#(which is what I would traditionally do upon drawing something awful)

[problemswithbooks]

why did some people get mad at all might when he called dabi crazy? /gen

A while back I read a post suggesting that All Might gets more negative attention from people due to ableism. As in people see his disabilities and have an inherent bias against him. To an extent I think there is some truth in that, but I also feel like it's a bit more complex of a situation.

Many of the people who criticize All Might have favorite characters, like Dabi, Shigaraki, or Aizawa who are similarly injured and disabled. They will get mad at people who take away scars and are quick to call out ableist behavior. So, I don't think it's pure ableism that causes them to dislike All Might.

Instead what I think what happens is that All Might's disabilities more affect his appearance then other's in the Manga. His Small Might form is based on a skeleton and he is draw far more cartoonish then others. His character model is not traditionally attractive, which doesn't make people out right hate him, but does maybe reduce the number of people who would have him as a favorite character.

People are far more willing to understand and go to bat for their favorite characters. For whatever reason their mind has latched onto that character and they spend hours thinking about them and their stories. What makes them tick, why they act the way they do, inferring things about them that canon doesn't specifically state, or isn't even in the original material. I know I do this myself.

Also, if a character does something that can be seen as a slight against someone's favorite character, it's doubtful that offending character will get similar levels of understanding and thought as the fav. The less liked of the two, who the person hasn't spent hours upon hours thinking about will instead be viewed in a more negative light.

All Might is a pretty important character in this story. He has effected almost everyone, even if he hasn't personally met them. Because of this he has far more opportunities to end up slighting someone's favorite character, even if it's in a really minor way. People who love Izuku will dislike him for how he endangered him by giving OfA (even though they also say AM is bad for telling him he couldn't be a Hero without Quirk which would have been equally as dangerous). Bakugou and Shoto, or really any 1A fans dislike him for ignoring them in favor of Izuku. The Villain fans dislike him because his time as #1 is seen as the cause of them not getting saved and becoming villains in the first place.

All Might, due to his relevance/ perveance in the story can be blamed for, or seen as being an asshole to almost anyone's fav. With his less conventionally attractive body, he was less likely to become people's favorite character, so people are less inclined to spend time diving into his character. So in the end he gets very black and white criticism for things that aren't even that big of a deal, like say calling Dabi crazy, which was not in anyway shown in canon to be a flaw of his character. Yet in fandom spaces is held up as All Might's refusal to get with the program and sympathizing with all the villains. Or as him hurting Shoto's feelings, even though Shoto didn't care at all.

And I'm not saying that All Might hasn't made mistakes--he has, that's kind of the point of his character. But I do think his flaws and mistakes are seen through a much harsher lens when he's not someone's favorite character. I have seen countless people defend and explain in excruciating detail why Shigaraki is killing people, but still needs to saved. Why Dabi being racist to Spinner is actually Endeavor's fault, so you can't really blame him. How Aizawa might want to kill the LoV now, but he's just traumatized/ brainwashed by Hero society and will come around eventually and be adopting the LoV as his kids by the end.

Meanwhile, people either want All Might to die, or have Izuku scold him about how awful a person he is once he's saved Shigaraki (and for him to stay as far away from Shigaraki as possible because Shigaraki is just to traumatized by him). In some ways All might's possible endings are as harsh as Endeavor's even though he is by far a better person, and despite his mistakes has helped a lot of people. Plus, the narrative by no means condemns his actions the way it does Enji.

So, simply put All Might having less attractive disabilities -> Less people choose him as a fav -> less thought goes into his charter -> his mistakes are seen as personal slights on the readers favorite characters -> he gets hate for calling Dabi crazy one time, where the narrative doesn't even imply this is bad.

And it's not as if I'm saying those people have to love All Might. My main issue with the hate All Might gets is similar to how I feel about Endeavor or Hawks hate--that it generally is from people who will talk about how other character's bad actions have deep complex reasons, which means they deserve sympathy, but for the characters they don't like, that same understanding is thrown out the window or presented in as negative a light as possible. Or any little thing is blow way out of proportion, like All Might calling Dabi crazy means he's a terrible person actually.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: hi!! i know i have been pretty consistent about updating this fic every other day but i’m starting a new job in addition to school so the updates may be a little bit slower. my apologies!!

Masterlist

Chapter 18

Emily was the first to clock it. She whispered to Derek who told Penelope and then it was game over. Everyone knew about the mysterious ring that appeared on Spencer’s finger over Christmas break.

Spencer was in the break room, refilling his coffee mug, when they began to discuss theories.

“You think they got engaged and married in the week we didn’t see him?” Rossi asked.

“If they did, I’m going to kill him for not telling us let alone be there,” Penelope huffed, stomping her high heel.

“But the ring isn’t on his ring finger,” JJ pointed out.

“Maybe the kid doesn’t know,” Derek offered.

“You think a genius doesn’t know which finger a wedding ring goes on?” Hotch asked, amused.

It was clear it was big news because even Hotch and Rossi had come out of their offices when Reid got up from his chair.

Spencer walked back into the bullpen, stopping when he noticed everyone’s eyes on him.

“Do we have a case?” Spencer asked.

“What’s with the ring on your finger, Boy Wonder?” Penelope questioned.

“Oh um that,” Spencer looked down at his hand wrapped around his mug, “Y/N and I have matching ones.”

He thought that cleared everything up so he continued to walk over to his desk. Once he was seated, he looked up to see everyone still staring at him.

“Did you elope?” Emily asked.

“No. This is on my index finger, not my ring finger,” he held up his hand, “The wedding ring is traditionally placed on the ring finger because it was believed that the finger had a vein that connected directly to the heart but that’s actually untrue.”

“So why the rings?” Rossi chimed in.

“I don’t know. I just really love her and I wanted to have something connecting us whenever we’re apart,” Spencer shrugged.

He blushed at the sounds of the team ‘awww’ing and ‘ooh’ing.

“Also I guess since everyone needs to know everything about my personal life, Hotch already knows but I’ll be out next week. Jo, Y/N, and I are going to Disneyworld,” Spencer smiled.

“Oh Henry loved it when we went but you’re going to be dead on your feet at the end of each day,” JJ said.

-

Jo was most excited for Animal Kingdom so that was the park you were starting off with.

You all waited in line for the safari ride. Spencer was adamant about all the germs festering at amusement parks so he had a backpack full of hand sanitizer, disinfecting wipes, and other essentials. He was carrying Jo on his shoulders and holding your hand.

Once you loaded into the safari vehicle, the tour guide introduced himself and the ride began.

Jo looked at the huge elephants grazing in amazement.

“Elephants live in groups called herds made up of only females. The matriarch is the oldest female in the herd and she is usually in charge,” Spencer whispered to you both.

The tour guide was spewing off facts about the animals as well but I think it was safe to say you and Jo preferred your own personal genius.

Zebras were drinking from the watering hole as you passed by.

“A group of zebras is called a dazzle and their stripes act as a way to cool themselves as well as avoid bug bites,” Spencer stated.

Next was the Expedition Everest roller coaster. Jo barely made the height requirement, cheering when the ride operator gave her the all clear after bringing out the measuring stick.

Immediately after finishing the ride, Jo demanded you ride it again. She was definitely a thrill seeker, alright.

After you took a lunch break of chicken tenders and fries, Spencer insisted everyone wash their hands twice and reapply sunscreen. It was nice to have someone even more responsible than you.

Then, you caught the Lion King Festival stage show to take a break from walking for a bit. It seemed fitting since one of your first memories as a family is singing along to that movie.

Jo seemed to be enjoying it but you and Spencer were trying your best to not doze off. The show was interesting enough, there were animatronics of the characters and acrobats and dancers but you and Spencer were both just so tired after running around to keep up with Jo all day.

Jo tapped Spencer awake after the show ended and the audience was clearing out.

“Daddy, dinosaurs!” she reminded him.

Your final ride of the day would be the dinosaur ride where it simulates traveling back in time.

The three of you got buckled up in the front row of the ride. It started out peaceful and Jo was watching the animatronic dinosaurs in awe.

However, things quickly went south. The ride was designed to seem like it was going out of control. The flashing lights, fake smoke, and hissing big dinosaurs soon began to overwhelm Jo. She curled up in a ball in between you both.

You were bent over, whispering reassurances into her ear that it was all just pretend and she would be okay. Spencer was stroking her hair and holding her hand.

Jo exited the ride with her face in Spencer’s shoulder.

“Jo, did you know that stegosauruses were herbivores? That means they only eat plants. In fact, the majority of dinosaurs were herbivores,” he softly spoke.

You really hoped this ride hadn’t squashed her love of dinosaurs. Maybe she just prefers to admire them from afar.

-

On the last day of your vacation, you were standing in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle at the Magic Kingdom Park. Jo seemed to have recovered from the dinosaur incident and was sporting her dinosaur converse today.

The fireworks you were waiting for soon began. It was the perfect way to end your last night.

“Woah,” you exclaimed after a particularly pretty firework burst into red streams in the air before fizzling out.

Jo was on your hip and Spencer was behind you with his arms wrapped around you both.

“I love you,” you looked to the side where he was leaning his head against your shoulder.

His side profile and perfect jawline were being illuminated by the colorful flashes of light in the sky.

“I love you too,” he turned to meet your eyes with a grin, kissing you.

-

The whole team was gathered around Penelope’s computer, looking at the email that Spencer had sent out to the entire team.

Subject: Having Fun

We are headed back tonight. JJ was right about being dead on your feet. I have to get my two sleepy girls to the airport somehow. Hope all is well with you guys.

-Spencer Reid

Attachment: 3 Images

The images consisted of a photo of the three of you in front of the Disney Cinderella Castle, Jo high-fiving a person dressed up in a Mickey Mouse costume, and a picture of Jo and you cuddled up on the bed of your hotel room.

“I didn’t even know Reid knew how to attach photos to emails,” Penelope stated out loud.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Reid willingly send an email,” Emily smiled.

In typical Penelope fashion, she printed the photos Spencer had sent and put them into a collage frame and displayed it prominently on his desk for him to find upon his return.

Spencer’s desk had changed drastically over the past few months. A once well-organized desk lacking a personality other than the piles of books now had a random assortment of photos, Jo’s drawings, and sticky notes marking up his calendar for important family events.

[imreallyhereforkataang]

I'm unsure about how's the best way to articulate this, but I'm kind of surprised there's not more fan content highlighting the otherworldly aspects of Kataang, and a part of me wishes we could see a bit more of that.

I'd expect that most if not all fandoms frequently have an affinity for glamorizing aesthetics of characters and ships, and content creators who I know often look for ways to convey that sort of thing. I've also witnessed lots of people on this site claim that they first became attracted to a ship for its aesthetic because they saw embellishing artwork that didn't really highlight much about the characters' personalities, but was still gorgeous and impressive to look at.

And yeah, it makes sense that content creators and consumers in fandom engage with works that make epic an idea that may be primarily based off the “what” of the characters, or the situations they find themselves in, rather than the finer details of the “who.” The resulting creation is similar to what happens when the personal elements of a legend get lost over time, while the sensational aspects continue to be retold and glorified. That sort of thing makes for extremely intriguing depictions of the original source material, even if it’s at the expense of some of the subject’s humanity. Though, even when that depiction becomes so far removed from the original that it's totally unrecognizable, I do think it's often still fascinating and creative, and maybe should be its own celebrated thing altogether.

It's just surprising to me, and kind of disappointing if I'm honest, that, based on the relative lack of fan content doing this, many people seem to either not recognize or not act upon how Kataang has that exact aesthetic potential.

If you were to keep the basics of their story intact but tell it through a different lens or genre, maybe dramatize it a bit, it would be so easy to emphasize how Kataang is literally like a demigod and a mortal falling in love. That on its own to me sounds like the premise for the epic love story fandom culture would traditionally find appealing. And it's really not much of a stretch -- that is one legitimate way to look at the pairing if you broke it down to its objective pieces, even if it's not the most focused-on part of their relationship in the original material (though it certainly is alluded to). The source material is much more detailed and personal, like watching a show where Oma and Shu are the main characters versus hearing the major beats of their legend.

For Kataang, we can definitely take it further with drawing out their major beats. The mortal comes into her own and is shown to be a force of comparable measure to the demigod, as she is his self-appointed protectress. She releases him from dormancy, bringing him back into the world to fulfill his grand destiny, and on their quest, she would become his teacher, both in training and in reacquainting himself with the new era. At one point she would even revive him and his line of divinity after watching him be struck down and killed. This mortal is his first devotee, and his personal connection with her makes her his attachment to the world and, in extension, the mortals he protects.

Meanwhile, the demigod is the personification of the mortal's faith, a vessel of the compassion she feels so deeply for others. He takes her places, literally and metaphorically, she never could have gone before, teaching her in turn about lost practices and new perspectives. He can legitimately bring her to the skies with a unique ability that no one else in the entire world possesses -- an ability that also defines much of what he stands for and what her world has been missing in his absence.

Not to mention how the mortal was one of the only people who believed this demigod would resurface, and the only person by his side from the start of meeting him in their warring environment. The two were born nearly 100 years apart, yet their connection and love is shown to transcend both time and space. Their elements and roles to the world and to each other can be represented by synergistic air and water, which are associated in canon with freedom/peace and change/virtue, respectively. And if one were going to dramatize Kataang's relationship and what it stands for, their exchange could reasonably be depicted as the bridge between the heavens and the earth (moon and ocean).  

Like, truly, their story is so mythical. The pieces are there. Think about how their theme is called "The Avatar's Love" and segments of that theme are reused for LoK, pointing to Aang's reincarnation cycle and how the love he feels transcends so many lifetimes, but he chooses Katara in this particular one. Think about what Yangchen says to Aang about the reason the Avatar is born a human and not a spirit, that the Avatar must live amongst humans and experience human emotions to recognize how precious the life is that the universe entrusts him with protecting. Think about Aang's chakras in The Guru, and not just the Love and Thought Chakras but nearly all of them, and how truly tied Katara is with his energy, his spirit. That can't be faked -- that's real, genuine influence, her touching his life in ways that highlight his humanity. Think about how Aang has a real-time vision of Katara without even intending to, and the only other being we see Aang do something similar (but intentionally) with is Appa, to whom Pathik says, "You and the Avatar's energies are mixed. You have an unbreakable bond."  

Think about the Pietà pose in The Crossroads of Destiny and all that symbolizes about Aang and Katara (honestly that alone should be enough because it speaks volumes), including their world savior/first believer dynamic. How Katara brings Aang back to life and says, "I don't know what I did exactly," thus giving fuel to the idea that saving him didn't just constitute normal healing on her end. Think about the visual parallel between her resurrecting him and her releasing him from stasis in the first episode. Think about Katara's extended opening narration in the pilot and how it evolves to when she meets Aang, with just as much trust in an idea as in what ends up being the real thing.  

Think about their relationship when Aang goes into the Avatar State, embodying his most divine form. How Katara is able to speak with and approach him, and how he can hear her and respond to her while in that state, honing all his past lives. Think about when Aang deals the heavy attack at Fong's base that would continue to haunt Aang for so long afterwards, which showcases how out of control he is here, yet his blow from all Avatars completely and deliberately avoids Katara while targeting everyone remotely near her. Think about how Katara is so unafraid of a raging demigod, even when the person underneath hasn't been acting like himself lately, that she doesn't flinch at the output of his anger and just goes to him as everyone else runs. Think about that visual where she grabs onto his arms and pulls him from the air that only he can bend to the ground she's tied to and into her arms. Think about how she always tries to catch him when he falls, because she is adamant about being his cushion to the earth.

Think about how Aang is the reason Katara gets to touch the heavens. Think about how he takes her on an epic journey across the world so she can learn waterbending and make the difference she's always wanted. How being with him, the one person with a divinely granted duty to the world and who will always choose her, puts her right on the foreground for making that difference. Think about how they can still waterbend together even if Katara can't airbend -- no one can besides Aang. Think about their push and pull of the water and how it highlights their equal footing, and that although, as the demigod he is, Aang can master all the elements, Katara is the mortal who teaches him mastery in the one they share between them.

I don't know, to me it's all so cool and awe-inspiring. Obviously the most important part of Kataang's relationship is how their personalities play off each other and how they treat each other, but in terms of this kind of grander depiction, I think of it more like Oma and Shu. We don’t know the details of how Oma and Shu acted towards each other, yet we hear the story about the power of their love and take inspiration from it.

So yes, I unfortunately don’t see this pronounced demigod/mortal iteration of Kataang very often in fan works, but it makes for a pretty dang fascinating legend to contemplate anyhow.

[sometimes-i-right]

Was digging through my notes and found this discarded scene from Mand’alor bal Kaysh Vod’ika. Obi-Wan’s verd’goten was originally a single chapter featuring a hunt on Mandalore, but I scrapped that in favor of the Xanatos hunt published on AO3. Of course that decision was made after I had already written 3k words, so enjoy the scrapped scene after the break. (The original arc also involved a completely original mission where Obi-Wan crossed paths with Luminara and her master. I may use bits and pieces of that mission in a future arc.)

This chapter originally had another 500 or so words where Obi-Wan is adopted by a strill puppy. I think those words got deleted, since the only evidence is a pro/con list and the single “protect” emotion from the strill parent.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure what he expected Mandalore to look like, but it wasn't this. Large swathes of the southern hemisphere had been bombarded from space, leaving enormous puckered black scars across a golden desert. The desert was relatively new, or so Jango said, a result of the bombardment destroying the natural ecosystem and leaving the area uninhabitable without sophisticated environmental domes.

The northern hemisphere had been miraculously spared - and that alone had probably kept the planet capable of supporting humanoid life - leaving a glimpse of the Mandalore of old. Forests and mountains blanketed the area, making it difficult to carve out enough space for a single clan, let alone a city or proper landing pad.

Jango guided Jaster's Legacy in for a lopsided landing between an evergreen forest and the start of yet another mountain range, a feat Obi-Wan was glad he didn't have to perform. "Wayii," he exclaimed softly upon exiting the ship, eyebrows rising in awe at the way the Legacy was perched atop three boulders like a giant bird of prey.

"It just takes practice," Jango assured, voice modulator hiding most of the amusement Obi-Wan could feel from him. "Now, your verd'goten," he started and Obi-Wan snapped his attention over. "Traditionally, the two of us would disappear into the wilderness while the rest of Clan Fett tried to catch and defeat you. Seeing as that's not an option, we'll have to test your warrior skills another way."

Obi-Wan swallowed his nerves and nodded seriously.

"In these forests are a number of dangerous predators. Your task is to hunt a strill," he stated and Obi-Wan tilted his head in question. "They're an apex predator native to these forests. Highly intelligent, mammalian, with an unmistakable stench and six legs. Tend to pounce from high trees," he warned, grinning when Obi-Wan nervously glanced at the tree line.

Those were some very tall trees.

"I'll be with you to make sure you don't die, but this is your hunt," Jango finished. "Be sure to take whatever you need from the ship."

"I don't suppose there's a strill tracker?" Obi-Wan quipped before studying the forest. He had taken the basic survival courses all Initiates took. He had the Force. If things went to absolute bathashit, he had Jango.

He could do this.

He set off into the forest with a light pack, a single blaster, and a survival knife. He had contemplated grabbing more supplies - enough provisions for a week, more weapons, a full temporary shelter and bedroll - but had ultimately decided against it. This was a test. He wouldn't take the easy way out.

The forest was eerie and peaceful at the same time. Insects chirped and screamed all around him, blocking out the softer padding sounds of small prey animals and his own two feet. Branches snapped and shook from the breeze and various creatures going about their lives. The scent of pine and rotting foliage sat heavy in his lungs.

He trudged on.

The sun filtered through the sturdy veshok trees and warmed patches of undergrowth. Obi-Wan paused in one, absorbing the heat and breathing out his tension. Breathed in peace, and exhaled his uncertainty. Inhaled fresh air and exhaled his nerves.

He stretched out his senses.

Jango stopped fifty yards away, preternaturally still in the way all predators were. He was calm, patient, warm, but ready to spring into action at the slightest signal. His own senses - and likely his sensors - were on high alert, searching for any indication that Obi-Wan needed his help.

Obi-Wan would not need his help. Not for this. He would make Jango proud.

A rapid heartbeat and softly padding feet off to one side, a flicker of life just as wary and alert as Obi-Wan was. He brushed against that dim light, identifying it as a small herbivore. A prey animal, calculating in its own simple way whether it wanted to flee or continue munching the sweet vorpan berries.

Another flicker of life overhead, this one sleeping. A good thing, too, since there was an aura of danger and barely leashed violence tucked behind those brown wings. Obi-Wan would not put it past this particular creature to attack, and possibly kill, humans if it felt the desire. He sent a soft sleep suggestion to it and warily turned his attention elsewhere, though part of him kept it firmly in mind.

Something nudged his arm, and Obi-Wan's eyes snapped open. A cold black nose attached to a long triangular face nudged his arm again, and Obi-Wan huffed a soft laugh. He slowly, carefully reached up to pet the shatual's head and scratch the base of the wide antlers, gaze flickering over the herd that had decided to come meet him.

"Hello there," he greeted quietly, belatedly realizing he had been projecting peace into the Force in his attempts to keep the predator bird overhead asleep. No wonder the herd had come up to him. "You're a brave little fellow, aren't you?"

Jango shifted, and the shatual herd stiffened, heads all swiveling to stare at the Mandalorian. Obi-Wan jerked back to avoid getting clocked by his new friend's bony crown.

The largest shatual made a guttural sound, and Obi-Wan scrambled away as the herd abruptly fled.

A mix of exasperation, disbelief, and humor prompted Obi-Wan to turn, a bemused if chiding look on his face. "Thanks for that," he snarked, staring pointedly at the blaster Jango had drawn.

"This happen a lot?" Jango asked evenly as he stowed the weapon.

"Not generally. I think I was projecting and they got curious," Obi-Wan admitted. "We should move on. I think that's a shriek-hawk overhead, which means a strill wouldn't be welcome here."

There was a brief pause as Jango consulted his HUD. "Good eye," he confirmed.

Obi-Wan smiled as he wandered deeper into the woods, the Force guiding his steps.

 They stalked through the forest for hours, Obi-Wan picking out what plants he thought were safe for foraging and Jango verifying their safety. Whether that was cheating, Obi-Wan didn't care to examine too closely. He knew how to test whether a plant was edible. Using Jango's knowledge simply kept the man from worrying at Obi-Wan's naturally small appetite.

There were no repeats of the shatual herd incident, though Obi-Wan may have used a small Force suggestion to lure a rabbit for latemeal. He only felt mildly guilty about using the Force in such a way as Jango helped him field dress and roast the animal.

Camp was a simple affair; a pile of dry leaves, a small fire, and a blanket to keep the morning dew off. Jango didn't even bother with the blanket, relying instead on his beskar'gam to keep him warm and dry. Part of Obi-Wan was jealous, the rest of him knew he would get his own suit soon.

The next day came bright and early, complete with Obi-Wan gasping from a half-forgotten nightmare and Jango groaning about a night on the hard ground. Obi-Wan rolled his eyes and would have thrown a pillow if he had one; the ground was not that much harder than the shared blanket pile they were experimenting with on the Legacy.

They wandered onwards, Obi-Wan following the vague currents of the Force as best he could. It was difficult to tell where exactly he was meant to go. The Living Force had never been his strong suit, and the Force felt especially elusive in this old, scarred forest. This was a place teeming with life tempered by a looming expectation of danger; these were survivors, determined to eke out a living among the jagged rocks and scraggly trees and the heavy weight of death.

He shivered as he crested another boulder.

The vague feeling of alarm and the sound of rustling trees alerted him to animals fleeing something. He turned, stretching his senses out.

A breeze ruffled his hair, and Obi-Wan nearly gagged at the stench it carried. Like rotting meat and Vos's training tunics and unwashed bodies all mixed together. He hastily switched to breathing through his mouth, and nearly gagged again as he realized he could taste the stink.

He glanced back at Jango, a disgusted look on his face. 'Is that what I think it is?'

Amusement spiked, and Jango inclined his head. 'Yes.'

Obi-Wan scowled and crept towards the strill, drawing both his vibroblade and blaster. He reached out with the Force, recognizing a spark of animal intelligence just ahead, mind bright with happiness and victory at a successful kill.

The strill was just as ugly as it smelled. Short gray fur bristled across its flappy skin as it tore into the downed shatual. Its front four legs held the shatual in place as it systemically tore the beast into shreds, blood and viscera spreading from the corpse in a gory puddle.

Obi-Wan swallowed roughly and raised his blaster.

Something - the wind, maybe - alerted the predator of his presence as its head snapped up, snarling. The Force barely had time to flare in warning before the strill pounced, fangs and claws extended.

Obi-Wan shouted in surprise and thrust one hand out, catching the strill with the Force, pushing it back, and buying him precious seconds to scramble to his feet.

The strill snarled as it landed, prowling around him in a wide arc. Obi-Wan raised his blaster and aimed for the creature's center of mass, Force at the ready for any unexpected surprises. The Force trilled right as the strill leapt, and Obi-Wan twisted to one side, blaster landing a fiery score across the loose skin of the strill's underbelly.

He cursed under his breath. That would only make the animal angrier.

The strill snarled as it landed and immediately bounded up a nearby tree. Obi-Wan shifted closer to the shatual body, tracking the strill as it jumped from tree to tree around him.

He dove to one side as the strill fell almost on top of him, blaster snapping out three quick bolts. The strill whimpered as it landed, and Obi-Wan frowned as he realized he had only caught one of the six legs instead of the animal's vulnerable chest.

It would hurt, but it wouldn't incapacitate.

Apparently it hurt enough, as the strill picked up its injured leg and fled into the forest. Obi-Wan grit his teeth and followed, eyes scanning everywhere for disturbed foliage and blood.

Despite the injury, the strill was fast, quickly disappearing among the veshok trees. Obi-Wan reached out with the Force, searching for that combination of intelligence and anger/hurt/fear/hunger that was the strill among similar animal minds.

He scowled as he felt the strill escape to the edge of his awareness. If he were better with the Force - if he were a real Jedi - he would be able to feel it out from across the planet. He picked up the pace, using the Force to vault himself over a downed tree and enhance his speed.

But it was no good. The strill was clever and knew the forest better than Obi-Wan did. He drew to a stop, panting, as he recognized that his target had escaped.

As he caught his breath, he realized Jango was nowhere to be seen. He frowned, reaching out with the Force for the familiar presence, but only finding the relatively dull glimmers of animals instead. He reached for his commlink and paused.

He wasn't asking for help. He wouldn't. Not for this.

He could do this. Jango thought he could do this, so he could do this. He would not let Jango down.

He flipped a switch on the device allowing it to broadcast his location, and tucked it back in his belt pouch. Whether Jango needed the tracking signal or not, it settled something deep inside knowing Jango would absolutely be able to find him.

And if the strill did kill him, at least Jango would be able to find his corpse.

With that cheery thought, Obi-Wan carefully examined his surroundings. There, off to the side and high in the trees, were what looked like claw marks, and lower on the trunk were a few spatters of blood.

He followed those signs for some distance, trusting the Force to keep him mostly pointed in the right direction and his own eyes the rest of the way, and emerged in a small rocky clearing. He scoured the lichen covered rock for the telltale blood spots he had been following, and headed back into the forest.

As he came upon a small rocky clearing, he was forced to admit the strill was far more clever than he had given credit. He drew his knife, marked the false trail, and tried a different path.

The third time he entered the small rocky clearing, Jango was waiting for him.

"Not a word," Obi-Wan demanded, finally locating what he hoped was the real trail.

Jango didn't move, but he also didn't say a word, so Obi-Wan counted that as a win. He determinedly ignored whatever emotions Jango was bleeding into the Force.

The third path led him into the foothills of a mountain and down into a shallow stream. He scowled at the cheery water feature, just knowing the strill had used that to well and truly lose him.

"Do you have a plan?" Jango asked as he drew close.

Obi-Wan sighed, releasing his frustration to the Force, and took a seat on a conveniently flat rock. "We weren't taught more than basic tracking skills," Obi-Wan admitted, "but I did spend a lot of time hiding from and chasing down my friends in the creche. Whenever someone got really good at hiding, we could generally locate them if we meditated and really focused, so I'm going to give that a shot."

"Does that work for anyone?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "The better you know who you're searching for, the easier it gets. I got a decent feel for the strill while we were fighting, so with some luck I should be able to find it. At least, I should, as long as it hasn't gone too far away," which they both knew was unlikely given the strill's injury.

Jango didn't have anything to say to that, so Obi-Wan closed his eyes and drew the Force around him. Energy swelled, and Obi-Wan concentrated, dragging his attention away from Jango's bright light to pick through the dimmer threads surrounding them.

His attention slid to a knot of threads vaguely resembling his target and a herd of shatuale. The strill-thread watched closely, its focus on the runt-thread at the back of the herd with the gimp leg, as the herd gathered at a sizeable bush. The runt dropped its head to gather some berries, and the strill pounced, air catching the gliding skin between its legs and depositing the predator's claws on the shatual's neck.

The shatuale-threads panicked, bolted, and fled, leaving the strill-thread and the dying shatual-thread behind but not forgotten. As Obi-Wan watched, the shatual-thread frayed and split, the pieces carried away on some indiscernible breeze to tangle themselves with the shatuale herd and the strill ripping strips out of an empty shell.

And those scattered threads suddenly contracted, bright and solid and demanding, dragging the herd and the strill-thread, now frayed in places, together. He watched as the mess of threads collided and tangled, forming some knotted mess he could hardly pick apart before it suddenly dispersed, leaving only a few frayed remains behind.

He frowned at the unhelpful vision. Something - the Force? - frowned right back.

He prodded at the frayed remains and felt a flash of very animal alarm/protect/hunt in return.

He kept that thread firmly in mind as he carefully eased himself from the Force.

"Find something?" Jango asked evenly, though after his latest deep meditation the man might as well have been screaming his worry, curiosity, and fascination to the galaxy for all he was masking the emotions.

"I think so," Obi-Wan answered, rising to his feet and nearly tumbling to the ground as his vision temporarily blacked out. "Whoa. How long was I out?"

"Four hours," Jango answered, stowing the blaster he had been cleaning. He fished a nutribar from one of his numerous pouches and threw it at Obi-Wan. "Eat and drink. The water is safe."

Obi-Wan scowled but obediently bit down on the dry bar before chasing it with water and venturing back into the forest. The strill-thread felt different outside that plane of deep meditation, but he had a direction to follow and he wasn't about to let it slip away again.

He almost wished he had waited to finish the nutribar before chasing the strill. His mouth felt sandy, and he hadn't thought to fill a canteen before leaving the stream behind.

The strill-thread remained steady in his mind, and he couldn't help the slight increase in pace as he caught the first pungent whiff of the beast. He cloaked himself in the Force as if he were hiding from Quin and approached slowly, senses straining for any sign the strill knew he was approaching.

He heard growling and an answering whuff just ahead. He ducked down, drawing his blaster and checking the Force. Jango was still several meters away, and it felt like the strill was distracted by a sizeable herd of angry shatuale.

Angry herbivores. That was not something he would have expected.

The lead shatual ducked its head, antlers pointed straight at the strill, and whuffed another warning. The strill growled and darted forwards, forward paws raised to slash.

Obi-Wan could only watch as the shatual charged, caught the strill in the points of its antlers, and tossed it aside like trash. The other shatuale dropped their heads and followed suit, hooves trampling the strill into the dirt. The lead shatual stopped long enough to study its target, whuffed and pawed at the ground, and tossed its head in victory as the strill whined pathetically.

He sat stunned for a moment, not sure what he was supposed to do as the shatuale proudly left the area. He was supposed to hunt the strill, but a herd of prey animals came and did the deed for him. Did it count if he tracked it, fought it, and ultimately didn't kill it?

But no, the poor animal wasn't dead yet.

He could feel the creature's pain, see how it struggled to breathe around a crushed ribcage. Its limbs were shattered in multiple locations, the grey fur already matted with blood where its thick skin had burst. The shatuale hadn't killed the strill, but there was no way the strill would survive much longer.

He felt a swell of pity for the thing as he approached. There was no way he could help it; even if he had enough bacta on him (which he definitely didn't), the creature would sooner kill him than let him approach.

He met the animal's gold eyes, unfocused and cloudy though they were, and tried to press peace and comfort on its mind. Something stirred and weakly nudged against his mind, leaving an impression of pain/sad/hungry.

The strill released a wet whine and blood burbled past its lips. Obi-Wan closed his eyes in mourning, pressed a suggestion to sleep on the rapidly weakening creature, and shot it clean between the eyes.

It really was a mercy this time.

He rose to his feet as he heard Jango approach. "I killed it, but a herd of shatuale did most of the work first," he blurted out, stowing his blaster.

Jango came to stop next to him, staring down at the corpse before turning his helmeted face towards him. "That's okay," Jango said. "I told you before, the verd'goten is traditionally a hunt between clan members. This was a test to see how advanced your survival and fighting skills were, and based on what I've seen, you're more than skilled enough." He smiled behind the helmet, one hand resting proudly on Obi-Wan's shoulder. "Congratulations, verd."

Verd. Soldier. Warrior.

Jango's smile became tender as he squeezed Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I'm proud of you, vod."

Obi-Wan beamed.

[neon-dynasty]

Kamigawa was a failed endeavor. Released in the autumn of 2004, Champions of Kamigawa promised some new things for Magic the Gathering, and the return to some old things as well. Most importantly, in my opinion, it showed that Wizards was paying attention to what fans were interested in (outside of Magic) and wanted to provide a way of relating to the fans. However, just about everything they did with the setting and game either couldn’t live up to expectations or outright failed. Here’s why I think the original Kamigawa block failed, and why I think a return would be a resounding success.

This came out much longer than I’d expected, so hit the jump.

For its entire existence up until 2004, most of Magic’s settings were a hodgepodge of fantasy tropes, and the storyline had been following or tying into a single thread for years. Kamigawa was the first setting to truly be free of the ongoing Magic story. Nowadays, however, Magic is known for its settings based on real-world places and cultures. Just this past year, we’ve visited Eldraine (Arthurian Britain), Theros (ancient Greece), and Ikoria (less a real culture and more about giant monster tropes). Back in 2004, however, visiting a clearly defined theme world like this was something that hadn’t been done in a long time. In fact, it’s something the franchise traditionally shied away from. 1996’s Mirage block took place in Jamuura, a continent on Dominaria based on sub-Saharan Africa.1995’s Ice Age was set in a Viking-inspired Terisiare. (You could say that Arabian Nights and Portal Three Kingdoms also count, but those were more wholesale copies than homages.) Based on ancient Japan, Kamigawa was the first herald of a new worldbuilding philosophy for Magic, one that would see the creative team at Wizards of the Coast put their own spin on familiar cultures and mythologies, while still keeping them distinctly their own. Kind of like Disney movies.

The mechanics also promised to shake things up. While I don’t remember any of the card announcements, Kamigawa block introduced many new pieces for the game. Samurai and ninja had their own keyword abilities in bushido and ninjutsu, and most of the sorcery and instant cards dealt with arcane and spirits. Legendary had its own theme as well, with 138 unique creatures (139, if you count the other Yamazaki brother) and 39 other permanents, with a number of cards that cared about the supertype. Finally, there were flip cards, a mechanically and visually interesting way of getting more value out of those creatures and introducing a sort of sidequest to your game. 

Kamigawa was gearing up to be something special in Magic. But as I said at the very beginning of this piece, it failed.

The mechanics were kind of a disaster. Splice onto arcane was parasitic and to get any value out of it, you’d need to go all-in on overcosted cards. Bushido, sweep, offering, and most of the rest of the keywords were similarly underwhelming, either providing minuscule value or actively getting in the way of what you wanted to do. Putting the legendary supertype on a card is a downside when Commander doesn’t exist and singleton formats are not a popular way of playing. It doesn’t help that having too many legendary creatures in a set thend to make them feel less special, as well. Flip cards, while cool in theory, wound up being a logistical mess that didn’t add much to the enjoyment of casual games, and barely saw tournament play. All of this meant the cards didn’t really impact Standard, and Limited was a clunky ordeal more often than anyone would have liked. Following Mirrodin block, the most powerful three sets since Urza’s block, was also a tall order, and one that almost no set was equipped to fulfill. 

Admittedly, while I love the card game, I absolutely adore everything else about Magic. The storyline intrigued me when I started playing during Onslaught block, and knowing that there was this vast body of lore kept me hooked. Hearing that there was a Japanese-inspired setting coming up was pure hype for someone who’d also been into anime for years and video games for years before that. The early 00s were an interesting time for entertainment, as Japanese animation had finally infiltrated American mainstream media. Pokémon had been a successful card game for years (another story for another day), and Yu-Gi-Oh had just hit the scene in America after doing well in Japan for a few years. With all this and a burgeoning internet, fans of anime, video games, and Japanese culture had certain expectations. To say Kamigawa did not meet them would be an understatement. 

The general setting was based on an older Japanese culture, one which didn’t see much representation in media. Samurai, ninja, youkai, along with other popular figures and tropes were either later inventions or had a more solidified image hundreds of years after the source material took place. While I remember many Magic the Gathering fans being worried that the game would take on an anime aesthetic to capitalize on what was popular with the wider geek audience, they actually took it in the opposite direction. Instead of bright colors and bold outlines, Kamigawa was a dark and gritty place, which was made even more evident by the increasing demand for realistic detail in the art department. The kami themselves, one half of the conflict, were alien and foreign to behold. These weren’t based on images that otaku would have been familiar with, Japanese or Western, but based on much older stories that had been phased out of the public consciousness.

In short, there is no “in short.” There are many reasons why it didn’t succeed, but ultimately, it came down to being something that no one really expected or wanted. Instead of taking the cheap, easy, and profitable route by leaning into anime culture, Wizards bucked the trend and used a setting that most Magic fans would not have been familiar with, forcing it to fit within the franchise. They also filled the block with parasitic mechanics that were clunky and actively detrimental to play. And yes, I’m leaving out dozens of other reasons why Kamigawa failed, but those are the main ones that I personally feel hurt the setting. 

Sadly, as public-facing employees remind us constantly, Kamigawa is a very difficult sell to the higher-ups. It was one of the company’s biggest failures, and they can’t use tweets and Tumblr asks from enfranchised fans as justifications for its return. And yet, the requests still pour in. I believe that the reasons for this desire are the key to a new set based in Kamigawa. 

Let’s start with the biggest one: Commander. In many ways, this format is kind of the anti-MtG. It’s a long, drawn-out process that uses decks built with your whole collection, rather than the newest releases. Cards that are awful in most other formats are amazing in Commander, and one of the biggest drawbacks a card can have - the Legendary supertype - is a major boon here. It’s also the current most popular format for old and new players alike. I think that more than anything else, Kamigawa’s legendary theme is what draws new players, as Commander enthusiasts will inevitably find some interesting cards that would never have worked well in the old days.

I also think that Wizards of the Coast has learned a lot since 2004 (and whenever they started work on the original block). Remember, Kamigawa was the first of its kind: a real-world inspired setting completely separate from what the entire franchise had been doing for years. There were bound to be mistakes, and they’ve clearly learned how to rectify them. The following setting, Ravnica, used an Eastern European city aesthetic to compliment its two-color guild theme, but was still constrained by the block structure. Upon our return there, they changed the block structure to better fit what the themes and story wanted. On the other hand, Zendikar, their D&D-inspired adventure world, was beloved for its fast and fun mechanics, as well as the feeling of exploration on the cards and in the media. The return, however, involved destroying all of that in favor of an extradimensional war setting. Guilds of Ravnica and Zendikar Rising each supplied what the fans wanted out of those settings, to varying degrees of success. 

Wizards also keeps showing us glimpses into Kamigawa through Core Sets and supplemental products. Tamiyo showed up on Innistrad and Ravnica. They printed new shrines (compatible with the old Honden) in Core 2021. Yuriko, the Tiger’s Shadow, is one of my favorite commanders of all time, and she’s from the 2018 Commander set. They still value the setting, and don’t seem to be interested in ignoring it to the point of obscurity (like, for example, Mercadia). 

And, obviously, there are the rumors. With a blog name like mine, you have to have known this was coming. The three planeswalker concepts from surveys could point to anything: Commander products, supplementary sets, etc. However, I think that the web domains for Kamigawa Neon Dynasty point to a full set of some kind.

Interestingly enough, the events of the original Kamigawa block take place in Magic’s very distant past, so it’s been a tantalizing prospect to see how the place might have changed in the past few thousand years. Skipping over medieval fantasy and bringing it past the present into a cyberpunk future might be an excellent way to go about it. Aesthetics from early 90’s anime could still be stylistically unique in Magic, while keeping elements from the old setting would root us to the original block. I could see the new story centering around a conflict between one faction clinging to ancient traditions and another pushing magical technology to its futuristic limits. After all, Tamiyo still dresses in old-fashioned robes and reads from scrolls, and the moonfolk were known to be almost completely isolated from everyone else. I wonder what the kami would look like, if we even saw them at all.

Ultimately, I think that Wizards is in the perfect spot to try Kamigawa again. Between their worldbuilding experience, the rise of the Commander format, and a willingness to push the aesthetics of their game in different directions, there’s a lot of reason to hope that we’ll be heading back sooner or later. 

Please feel free to let me know if I missed something or got any details wrong. And please discuss what you’d like to see in a return to Kamigawa, either new stuff or old. 

[pamphletstoinspire]

Listen to the Thunder of God’s Voice

The only thing that might have been scarier than the size and appearance of the giant angel of Revelation was what he sounded like.

[A]nd then he cried out in a loud voice as a lion roars. When he cried out, the seven thunders raised their voices, too, (Revelation 10:3; all translations NAB, Rev. Ed. unless otherwise noted).

The seven thunders are closely associated with the lion’s roar of the angel—they could be interpreted as a sort of echo, as one commentator understands them, or as a kind of response to the cry of the angel. The thunder of heaven is almost entirely unique to Revelation—appearing in eight other chapters and almost nowhere else in the New Testament. It is sometimes associated with a specific being. Here is another example:

Then I watched while the Lamb broke open the first of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures cry out in a voice like thunder, “Come forward.” I looked, and there was a white horse, and its rider had a bow. He was given a crown, and he rode forth victorious to further his victories (Rev. 6:1).

We know from Ezekiel that the living creatures are also the cherubim, a type of angel associated knowledge of divine things and intimate nearness to God. So it is fitting that the living creatures—who are angels—speak in thunder just as the giant angel of Revelation 10.

But other times the thunder is not connected to a specific visible being and instead is a kind of omnipresent phenomenon associated with visions of heavenly worship and the throne of God:

Then God’s temple in heaven was opened, and the ark of his covenant could be seen in the temple. There were flashes of lightning, rumblings, and peals of thunder, an earthquake, and a violent hailstorm (Rev. 11:19).

The thunder has a specific meaning that draws upon the Old Testament. It often accompanies God’s judgment and punishment of His enemies, such as in 1 Samuel 7:10 when God “thundered loudly” against the Philistines, leading to their defeat by Israel. But it is also more generally associated with His glory and power, as in Psalm 29:

The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord, over the mighty waters. The voice of the Lord is power; the voice of the Lord is splendor. The voice of the Lord cracks the cedars; the Lord splinters the cedars of Lebanon, Makes Lebanon leap like a calf, and Sirion like a young bull. The voice of the Lord strikes with fiery flame; the voice of the Lord shakes the desert; the Lord shakes the desert of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord makes the deer dance and strips the forests bare. All in his Temple say, “Glory!” (Ps. 29:3-9).

Thunder then signifies God in all his majesty. It represents the manner in which God’s omnipotent and absolute holiness out to inspire awe and a kind of holy fear in us.

What is happening here is akin to how mystical theologians sometimes speak about the ‘appearance’ of God. His true brightness would overwhelm our eyes, blinding us. St. Gregory of Nyssa calls this the ‘dazzling darkness.’ This is why the angel, who some commentators see as Christ, has a face like the sun. So also with the voice of God: it is a deafening thunder.

The thunder thus represents God’s simultaneous presence to us and His incomprehensibility. As Job puts it,

Listen to his angry voice and the rumble that comes forth from his mouth! Everywhere under the heavens he sends it, with his light, to the ends of the earth. Again his voice roars, his majestic voice thunders; he does not restrain them when his voice is heard. God thunders forth marvels with his voice; he does great things beyond our knowing (Job 37:2-5; notice how thunder is paired with light).

But the thunder of God is not meant to only inspire reverence among us. It is something to which we should feel drawn. We should not only bow before the thunder, but we should listen to it.

Now, how can we do this?

The same way we grow spiritually in order that we might one day ‘see’ God, what is traditionally called the beatific vision. Matthew 5:8 tells us we do this by becoming ‘pure in heart.’

We also do it by preparing our vision, in a way: by contemplating Christ on the cross, we are drawn up to the vision of the invisible God. In the same way, by listening to the words of Christ in the gospels we are prepared to hear God in all His thunderous glory. As Christ says in John 10, speaking of Himself as the shepherd,

When he has driven out all his own, he walks ahead of them, and the sheep follow him, because they recognize his voice (John 10:4).

We know that is possible to hear the divine voice because John heard it and so did Job, even as he conceded God was beyond his comprehension (see Rev. 6:1, Rev. 10:4, and Job 37:6). And two chapters later, in John 12, a voice speaks from heaven that sounds like thunder, but some in the crowd around Jesus are able to discern its message:

“I am troubled now. Yet what should I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it and will glorify it again.” The crowd there heard it and said it was thunder; but others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” Jesus answered and said, “This voice did not come for my sake but for yours (John 12:27-30).

So let us meditate on Christ’s words in the gospels that we may learn to listen to the thunder.

BY: STEPHEN BEALE

[sharktoraptor]

Linkeduniverse Daemon AU

So uhh I posted it on the Discord and thought I may as well share here too. I put a lot of work into this one, beware that there’s a LOT of text beneath the cut!

If you’re unfamiliar with daemon AUs (referring to daemons from the His Dark Materials series), the basic concept is that your soul lives outside your body in the form of an animal that represents your personality. There’s a whole lot of character exploration involved in making a daemon AU!

If you’re unfamiliar with Linkeduniverse, it’s a Legend of Zelda AU where all the different incarnations of the hero meet and are on a quest. This daemon AU should be understandable with just a basic working knowledge of what the Legend of Zelda franchise is, this is all character/daemon stuff and no plot!

Again, a whole lot of text incoming. You might want to get comfortable. Enjoy!

Time: Wolf (white/gold)- Faekuri [fay-KYU-ree] (Kuri)

From Farore, fairy, Deku, and Kokiri.

Hyrule: Wolf (brown)- Fernwai [FURHN-why] (Fern, or just Fernwai)

From ‘fernweh’ (German for wanderlust) and fairy.

Twilight: Wolf (dark grey)- Aiyvona [eye-VOE-nuh] (Vona)

From ‘ayna’ (Turkish for mirror), Navi, Fai (Fi), and Ordona.

Warriors: Wolf (light grey)- Audelfi [awe-DEHL-fee]

From ‘audax’ (Latin for bold/reckless), ‘bellum’ (Latin for war), and Fi.

Wild: Field Mouse- Firielore [FEE-ree-uh-lore] (Firi)

From Farore, Fi, and Ciela.

Four: Field Mouse- Emper [EHM-purr] (no nickname, sometimes Em)

From temper, as in to temper a sword.

Sky: Blessed Butterfly- Lydivia [lih-DIH-vee-uh] (Lydi)

From Hylia and ‘divum’ (Latin for heaven/sky/open air).

Legend: Hare- Faistina [FY-stih-nuh] (Fais, rhyms with ‘vice’)

From Farore, ‘aisling’ (Irish for dream), and ‘obstino’ (Latin for persist).

Wind: Seagull- Marumi [mah-ROO-mee] (no nickname, sometimes Umi or Rumi)

From ‘mar/mare’ (Latin for sea), Ruto, and ‘umi’ (Japanese for sea).

The heroes traditionally settle when they first are draw/touch the Master Sword. This is true for Time, Legend, Wild, Warriors, Wind, and Sky (when the sword was completed). It doesn’t matter how old they are when they get the sword- Wild and Wind were both quite young, and Time technically settled when he was 9 years old, just before going into his seven year sleep. The exceptions are:

Twilight- Was already settled when his adventure began, he and his daemon merged upon entering the Twilight realm to create their wolf form.

Hyrule- Settled upon receiving the Triforce of Courage. Of the Links, Hyrule settled the latest in his journey.

Four- Officially settled upon restoring the Four Sword; however his daemon was already close to settling and was a mouse for the vast majority of his first adventure.

~Form Explanations~

A lot of the forms here aren’t necessarily exemplative of the Link’s personalities like a real daemon is, rather more of a symbolic representation of the character.

...Or something I thought would be cute because my city now.

The Wolf Pack (Time, Twilight, Hyrule, and Warriors)

All of these together, because the forms are the same. Because “Link” is the spirit/soul of the hero reborn again and again, it makes sense that there would be some overlap with forms. Each Link is their own person, but having legends of the hero with the wolf daemon as one of the most common depictions of the hero sounds cool and makes sense lore-wise. Right off the bat we have Time as the Heros Shade as the Golden Wolf, and Twilight following him with Wolf Link, the divine beast of the Twili.

Analysis/personality-wise, the form doesn’t fit all four of them as well as I’d like it to, but aspects of it do and like I said, we’re going more Pullman form/lore/symbolic here (not Pullman’s ‘wolves = evil’ though, that sucks). Wolves are hierarchical (Warriors), cooperative (all), social (Twilight, Warriors, the others to lesser extents), hard working and loyal (all), etc. All traits that would fit most of the Links well enough, but I like it for these four especially.

Important note, though: though all of their daemons share the same form, they’re still incredibly different. The differences in color is the first thing they all noticed, but their personalities are their own- not just the “soul of the hero.” That goes for all of them, of course, but it’s especially important for these four.

Mouse Friends (Four and Wild)

My reasons for picking mice for Wild and Four are so, so superficial. The analytic form actually fits both of them somewhat (again in different ways)- some of the core traits are things like independent, adaptable, observant/aware, defensive (physically and emotionally), but here are the real reasons.

Picture this okay. Four shrinks down to the size of a Minish, but his daemon doesn’t (or maybe she does but just a little bit). Now they’re like the same size. He can ride on his daemon and it’s adorable what’s not to like?

I made a big post about my botw daemon AU already here (disregard stuff about the other Links, I made this post before I’d really gotten into LU or any of the other games). Part of it that I don’t think I mentioned is logistics of the way Wild gets around, climbing and paragliding and swimming and stuff. He needs a daemon that is small enough to cling to him and stay safe when he’s doing stunts and shit.

Pink Bunny (Legend)

The Dark World in ALttP picked Legend’s daemon for me… I can’t give him a literal pink bunny though, so I took liberties. He’s much more of a hare personality than a rabbit, with hares being bigger and wilder, more independent, and having coats that change in the winter (get it? Oracle of Seasons, get it?). Not much else to say here, again more so picking a form to match the existing lore rather than doing an in-depth character study for it.

Butterfly in the Sky (Sky)

Alrighty, Sky was kind of hard because of his setting. What I chose eventually for him is the (fictional) Blessed Butterfly from SS, for a few reasons. It makes sense to me that daemons of people in Skyloft have to fit a couple of criteria: 1) small or fast enough at flying to ride a loftwing and 2) only take forms native to the sky, because it’s all they know about. Blessed Butterflies are one of the only animals in the game (according to the wiki- I’ve never played it myself) that are found on the ground and in the sky, so it works symbolically for his character.

I used the Monarch butterfly analysis as reference to make sure it wasn't totally off base, and it works for Sky surprisingly well from what I know about him. They're adaptable and adventurous (as a migrating species), and value group cohesion and teamwork (again because of the migration swarms). Lots of liberties being taken here, but the Blessed Butterflies in game apparently appear mostly in groups, so I'm willing to roll with it.

*Inhale* (Wind)

Wind has a seagull daemon because look. Have you seen Wind. Have you seen a seagull. Yes.

In all seriousness, there are some obvious reasons. Most of Wind’s adventure(s) take place on the ocean, so he needs a form that’s either adapted for that or small enough to fit on a boat, or both. You can literally take control of a seagull in WW.  Plus she can nest on his head like the doves do in Spirit Tracks!

Personality-wise, I’m going to just copy from the ring-billed gull analysis because this one probably fits the best of all the Link’s, analytically. The form is listed as chaotic neutral (I’d say Wind is probably chaotic good but it’s the chaotic here that counts). Seagull souls value social interaction, cooperation, courage, confidence, and duty, and are stressed by lack of control, boredom, lack of purpose, and dishonesty.

~Individual Links and their Daes~

Time and Faekuri

Faekuri settled when Time drew the master sword as a child. He settled the youngest of all the heroes at 9 years old, and she was still settled even when they traveled back in time. Time is bitter about that; another aspect of the childhood he never had, stolen from him.

Before settling, Kuri mostly took forms traditional of the Kokiri ( small woodland creatures and fairies, though fairies are still separate entities). When they set out on their first adventure her repertoire expanded and she took bigger forms, but never left her forest shapes for long. Settling as a wolf was unexpected and jarring for both of them, especially the experience of waking up in an unfamiliar, war torn world in shapes that neither of them knew how to deal with. Going back in time to be a child again didn’t help- Kuri never changed again, and Time had to live with that.

Kuri isn’t quiet, exactly, but she’s not generally conversational. She’s fairly blunt with scolding or encouragement if it’s needed, but if something is important enough for her to talk about, the others listen. However, she’s the most physically affectionate of all the wolf daemons, often nosing at, walking alongside, or even playing/rubbing up against the other wolves. She and Time are usually touching during downtime, but not as openly cuddly with one another as some of the others. With age comes a deep understanding of one another, and that’s enough for them.

Hyrule and Fernwai

Hyrule, by contrast, has one of the oldest settling ages of the Links at around 16. Fernwai’s settled form (which she took when they received the Triforce of Courage) was somewhat of a surprise to them both, but not as shockingly out of left field as it was for Time. It was a form they had taken before, just infrequently. They settled towards the end of their adventures as the Hero, and because they didn’t have to navigate their journey in unfamiliar skin, it feels wholly right and natural to them now. Before she settled, Fernwai preferred bird forms over landbound ones. They knew that the Hero of Time had a wolf form, so they’d tried it before, just in case, but the Hero of Legend didn’t, so maybe it was a one time thing…

Fernwai is a little more pragmatic and cautious than Hyrule, but aside from that, they’re basically the same. She doesn’t often initiate conversation with the others, but is very chatty to Hyrule.  She’s less touchy with the other wolf daemons, though she’s become the most popular perch for the smaller ones while traveling, but she and Hyrule are the most openly affectionate with one another. It’s common to see them sleeping on top of each other, not just next to or touching like most of the others do. Their tight bond comes in part from the lucky timing of their settling; they had time to work through it without much distraction after, while most of the others weren’t so lucky.

Twilight and Aiyvona

Twilight was the only Hero to be settled at the start of his adventure, which he’s sometimes hyperaware of. Aiyvona settled when he turned 15, about a year and a half before meeting Midna. People in Ordon village joked about his being the ‘lone wolf’ of the village, but he was a member of a pack then (the village and the children), and he’s a member of a pack now. It’s always suited them, and it had the bonus of being a good, mobile form for herding.

The Twili don’t have daemons, and the spirit people in the twilight realm don’t either, which is horrifying from Twilight’s perspective. But that’s why when they were taken into the twilight realm, Twilight and Vona’s forms merged into Wolf Link, a combination of both of them. Both of their minds are in Wolf Link and they can both control the form, but they’ve only ever fought for control once, when Vona tried to stop Zelda from sacrificing herself for Midna and Twilight won out, holding her back.

Despite the obvious similarities between Vona and “Wolfie,” the Links that don’t know about their secret haven’t figure it out. It’s a pretty big leap of logic- besides, Wolfie has all those strange markings, and a shackle around their paw. Wolfie doesn’t mind if the others touch them, even if Vona is in there too- it’s a magical form unique to them both, and it’s neither of theirs completely. Vona is as mature as Kuri is, but more talkative with the others, less touchy, and far more willing to tease and rile the younger daemons up. She doesn’t actually talk to Kuri much- the two wolves recognized each other as soon as they met, and they have an unspoken understanding. She talks to Twilight the regular amount, but they don’t need physical contact as much as the others do- they can share a body whenever they want, and nothing feels as close anymore.

Warriors and Audelfi

Audelfi settled when Warriors drew the Master Sword, but she’d been taking a wolf form on and off for some time before that. It was a noble form to take and common among the unsettled soldiers; the legendary form of the Hero. They were both quite happy with the form, though settling in the middle of a conflict is never easy.

Despite her name, Delfi is absolutely Warriors’ voice of reason and caution. It’s not a mostly even split like it is with Hyrule and Fernwai, she got just about all of it and he got almost none. She’s the one to talk him down from his most reckless decisions, or to sit by exasperatedly when she can’t. It’s sometimes caused noticeable friction between them; every rare once in a while it gets so bad that they flat out won’t speak to one another, and Delfi has actually pulled at their bond to try and drag him away from a dangerous situation before. They (obviously) always apologize and make up, but it’s a cycle that keeps repeating.

Delfi sees herself partly as her Hylian’s protector (she’s not entirely wrong), so it took her a while to relax around the other daemons and interact with them instead of Warriors, who was the exact opposite and warmed up to the other Links very quickly. She’s the only daemon that will talk to the other Hylians uninvited, which they don’t mind, exactly, but find a little bit… forward. Her ego is definitely smaller than Warriors, but Delfi was the Greek center of the world, after all.

Wild and Firielore

Wild settled young,  drawing the Master Sword when he was 13. Firi settled as a field mouse, which was a cause for concern at first. Scholars quickly reassured the King that everything was fine; the Hero’s daemon was most often a wolf, yes, but there was at least one other in the ancient texts that took the shape of a mouse.

Wild and Firi have the longest bond distance of all of the Links, because of the painful pulling that they frequently put themselves through as a knight and as Zelda’s guard. Every once in a while she’ll climb a rock or something and Wild will go carefully still, automatically pretending not to be fazed- old habits die hard. Everyone has noticed, but no one brings it up. It’s none of their business, even when any one of them would be doubled over with the pain of the distance while Wild stands outwardly unaffected. Twilight tried talking to him about it once, and Wild didn’t respond but ignored him for the rest of the day, Firi like a statue of a mouse on his shoulder.

Firi is and always has been a quiet daemon, but she got even quieter as the weight of her and Wild’s responsibilities settled over them Pre-Calamity. She never speaks except to Wild, and even then, only softly and occasionally. She’s opened up considerably since their awakening in the Shrine of Resurrection in that she’ll leave Wild’s shoulder and interact with the other daemons for longer and longer periods of time, often riding with Emper on Fernwai’s back during long days of uneventful travel. The others have only heard her voice once or twice, and she always pretends that they haven’t in case they make it a big deal.

(More on Firi pre-LU here)

Four and Emper

Emper settled when Four drew the completed Four Sword during his first journey, but she was taking the mouse form long before that. It was just always who she had been, and it was really a relief to settle, because they’d been wondering why they hadn’t already. Four loves her form for a multitude of reasons- he’s small, and she’s small. She can’t really help in the forge, but she can fit into lots of places that he can’t (when he’s big). She can ride on his shoulder, and when he’s the size of a Minish, he can ride on her back. They’re perfect for one another!

Emper doesn’t shrink when Four does, but she does change when he splits. It’s kind of complicated. There’s not four Empers the same way there’s four Fours, but they each have an aspect of her the same way they do of him. What form that takes I’m unsure of- there aren’t four mouse daemons, though.

Emper is one of the calmer social daemons, just like her Hylian. She's very friendly with all the other daemons, and she was a big part of helping Firi to feel at home in the group (meeting Four and having their form validated was actually very important for her and Wild). It's hard to be super cuddly with a mouse, but she and Four manage. They prefer to communicate silently rather than openly, but they have a healthy combination of both.

Sky and Lydivia

Sky and Lydivia settled later in their journey as well, when Hylia’s blessing completed the transformation of the Master Sword. The people of Skyloft didn’t have as much form variance as they would as the people of Hyrule, because of how deeply ingrained the loftwings were to their culture. Daemons only took shapes that were small enough to ride on a loftwing, be carried, or fly quickly enough to keep up with one; though only the the Goddesses themselves (and by extension all Zeldas) could settle as one of the sacred birds. Lydi always favored the butterfly form, and it was fitting that she settled as something found both in the Sky and on the land beneath the clouds.

Lydi is quiet, because even though her wingspan makes her larger than Firi and Emper, it’s hard for a butterfly to be loud. She does speak sometimes, just very softly, and mostly lets Sky voice her thoughts if she needs him to. It’s not uncommon to see her settled on one of the other’s daemons, either listening to them talk or just being near them for comfort or camaraderie. She’s content to just be, listening to the other Hylians and daemons (who learn what the different movements of her wings mean and include her in conversations when they can) and talking silently to Sky.

Legend and Faistina

Faistina settled when Legend drew the Master Sword, like most of the others, but they already sort of knew. The Dark World reveals your true self, and they had been a rabbit- he feels unspeakably lucky they didn’t settle that way, though he’d never admit it out loud. A hare is a better form, faster, bigger, and more capable. He is not a defenseless rabbit.

When they’re forced into the rabbit form in the Dark World, it’s sort of the same experience that Twilight and Vona have when becoming Wolf Link, except that it’s a weakening and incomplete merging and not an advantage. It’s more like Fais- all of Fais, not just the parts that they always share- is forced into Legend’s mind all at once, and he takes on her base physical traits, but softened; the ears, the fur, the face… it sucks for both of them. He’s so glad they didn’t settle as a rabbit.

Like Hyrule and Fernwai, Legend and Fais have similar base personalities- they just don’t get along as well as they maybe should. It’s not like Warriors, where he and his daemon have spats and then reconcile, more like they have some unresolved things they probably should have talked about long ago but most likely never will. Her form still makes him uncomfortable and self doubtful, and she knows it, though she’s long accepted it herself. Fais interacts with the other daemons in the same way that Legend interacts with the other Links; a little bit needling at times, kind of aloof, but able to see when she’s needed to be serious or kind. Despite their differences she and Legend do love each other, of course they do, but they don’t show their affection as outwardly, instead verbally sparring with one another or sharing exasperated looks at someone else’s expense.

Wind and Marumi

Wind settled when he drew the Master Sword at age 12, young even for a Hero. He’s never had any issue with Marumi’s form; seagull daemons are pretty common on the Great Sea, and he’s happy to represent that. It’s a good form for a sailor and a pirate, as long as she’s perched when the King of Red Lions goes fast, and she can even glide from traincar to traincar to check on passengers and cargo if they’re careful about it. They aren’t upset at how early they were forced to settle, either, except maybe for the fact that Marumi didn’t get to play with forms as much as most kids. Time is bitter about it on Wind’s behalf.

Wind and Marumi are young and have an innocent, open daemon-Hylian bond despite their mature experiences. They’re used to silent communication, because she’s in the air whenever possible and it’s hard for her voice to carry over the roar of the sea and the wind. Marumi helps to serve as the group’s navigator if they’re lost and she and Wind can get up high enough to not stretch their bond too badly (they have a larger than average bond distance, which is helpful for avian forms, but it’s natural and not forced like Wild’s is). She has a good sense of direction and the flight power that Lydi lacks to get a good view of their surroundings.

Marumi loves to talk to the other daemons, and she and Wind have reacclimated fairly well to talking to each other verbally. Sometimes Wind will still yell out non sequiturs to her, though, because they’re used to the one way communicating. She’s not flying that high, and he does not need to yell so loud and startle all eight of his fully armed travel companions, thank you very much. Marumi stays in the air most of the time during the day, but nests in Wind’s lap or hair at night.

~Other Stuff~

- All of the daemons call their Link ‘Link,’ and all the other Links by their title. It’s not as confusing as one would think. Everyone learns the other daemons’ voices very quickly, so that if one shouts out in the heat of battle they can identify who needs help.

- Listening to the daemons talk about their Hylians can be confusing. Not for the daemons themselves, though.

- Most of them know on some level that Legend is unhappy with Fais’ form, they just don’t know why. Sky, Wind, Four, and Wild have tried pep talking him about not having a wolf form, thinking maybe that’s the problem. It’s not.

- They all worry about the extremes to which Wild and Firi push their bond, and how often they do it.

- If they need to split up, the wolf daemons communicate long distance with an agreed upon system of howls. Most of the group is impressed with how quickly Wolfie picks it up too.

[alittlesliceofcucumber]

A Vision Of A Wedding

Title: A Vision Of A Wedding For: Katie @whynotcallitvanda Rating: G Word Count: 4,331 Warnings: None Summary: Wedding planning isn't as easy as it seems, as Wanda and Vision found out. A story about the events leading up to their big day.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048253 Fanfiction.net Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13071034/1/

Message for recipient: Hi! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope that you enjoy it! It’s set as if the events of Infinity War never happened, and (realistically) in 2020 but it can be imagined as happening whenever you like. 

Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!

A Vision Of A Wedding

It was a beautiful Hungarian summer sunrise.

The sky was layered pink and red, like streaks of paint on a canvas. The sun was emerging from behind the tall trees and shining between the leaves, illuminating the grand, floral arch and the tall figure who stood in front of it.

Vision was nervous to say the least. Not only was he about to marry the woman of his dreams, yet there was an unspoken tension in the gardens.

But their friends were all gathered here for their wedding and nothing else.

“Psst, Vizh! Stop messing with your tie!”

Vision swiftly spun around to face the table where Tony Stark was seated. He had, in fact, been fiddling with his tie for a while now. He wanted it to be proportioned perfectly, and since Wanda had insisted on him wearing a physical suit rather than one he’d phased himself, he found himself constantly adjusting it.

He then turned towards Thor who gave him an encouraging wink and a thumbs up. Although he looked very out of place in his large suit, there was hardly any other competition for the role of best man. In Vision’s eyes, Thor truly was the best man.

Next to catch his gaze was Steve. It was lucky that the super soldier was able to perform weddings; a skill he had been given back in his day. He was glancing at his watch. Steve was eager for the ceremony to take place the around dawn so that he didn’t draw too much attention to himself and his team.

The seating plan was arranged well. Vision and his fiancé had spent hours organising it together, hoping to avoid as much conflict as possible.

Sitting around the table closest to the altar were Tony and Pepper Stark, Bruce Banner, James Rhodes and Peter Parker. Vision believed that they were all somewhat family to him, and insisted that they sat together.

Next was Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes, with three places that were reserved for Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton. Wanda thought that these people would feel most comfortable with each other. With the one exception of Sam and Bucky, but that couldn’t be helped. They hadn't caused a scene just yet.

The remaining tables were filled by Asgardians (whom Thor insisted on bringing along for “educational purposes”) and another alien who appeared to be made of rocks. Vision knew better than to question it.

His fellow Avengers, however, seemed to glance back at one particular Asgardian. He had been informed that he was Thor’s (adopted) brother, Loki. So Vision had done his research and had soon found the reason for everyone’s uneasiness.

And consequently kept an eye on him too.

The sun had risen quite high when the car finally arrived. It was self-driving, provided by none other than Tony Stark himself.

First to exit was Clint. He looked surprisingly dashing in a suit, something he was presumably used to wearing as a family man. He probably attended many school events for his children and nights out with his...

Vision felt the world around him screech to a halt as Wanda emerged from the car.

She looked absolutely stunning. She wore a loose white dress with scarlet trim which fell down to her ankles. She wore a gold locket encrusted with a circular ruby (one Vision had chosen for her himself). The sleeves of the dress possessed a pink floral print, which Vision recognised as cherry blossom. Her outfit was beautiful whilst also practical, very much like Wanda herself.

She caught his eye, and the pair shared a look of pure joy.

Wanda felt a rush of happiness when she first caught sight of Vision. He wore a fitting suit which contrasted with the colour of his skin. In her eyes, he was the definition of perfection. His mere seemed presence begged her to approach.

As if in a trance, she felt her feet glide towards him. With her arm in Clint’s, she locked eyes with Vision, focusing on nothing but the man she loved. The man she was about to marry.

Once she reached the altar, she smiled at the (obviously quite nervous) Vision.

Upon admiring her once more, he stuttered “Y-you, er, you look…”

“Decent?” She prompted. “Beautiful.” He replied.

She allowed herself a small giggle. “Says the handsome man in front of me.” She said.

He grinned in return, and the pair turned towards Steve, who nodded at their signal to begin.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of two people who deserve all the happiness this world has to offer. They were burdened by our mistakes, and I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we were too blind by our own goals to even consider your lives. On behalf of everyone here, I’m sorry.”

“If anyone here knows any reason that these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Wanda looked at the guests anxiously, and was relieved to see only smiling faces.

Steve, too, was smiling. “All in favour for this marriage?”

The “Aye”s weren’t in sync, but they were loud enough to portray their point. Or that may actually have been just Thor.

“Great, in that case, are you two ready?”

“Yes.” The pair replied, without looking away from each other.

“Alright then. Wanda Maximoff, do you take Vision to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love and comfort him, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, and to be faithful to him at all times?”

She didn’t even register the words that tumbled out of her mouth.

“I do.”

Steve then turned to Vision.

“Vision…”

Steve glanced cautiously at Tony, who nodded back at him. The genius was beaming with pride.

“...Stark, do you take Wanda to be your lawfully wedded wife? Will you love and comfort her, through good times and bad, in sickness and in health, and to love and be faithful to her at all times?”

“I do.”

“Now it’s time for the exchanging of vows. Wanda?”

Wanda forced her eyes away from Vision in order to unfold the piece of paper hidden in her sleeve.

“Vision, from the moment I first saw you in that cradle I felt connected to you. At first I thought it was because of the stone in your head, but then I realised it was something more. As I got to know you I felt myself drawn to you. Every day you save the world. But you are my world, Vizh. And I promise to love you for as long as I am alive.”

Suddenly her vision became clouded and she felt the need to bite her bottom lip. Her lover brushed the tears away before they had the chance to fall.

“My darling Wanda.” Vision began, having memorised his vow by heart. “Whenever I used to see my reflection, I saw a servant for humanity. I saw myself bound by duty for this planet. But now, I feel as if I am bound to you. You helped me to accept who I am, and I can only hope I can help you do the same. If I were to look at my reflection now, I would see the luckiest man in the universe. I love you, Wanda.”

The two looked at each other, thinking about how far they had come to reach this point.

It was a very long journey indeed.

9 months earlier...

Paris was known throughout the world for being the city of romance, therefore the sight of lovers walking together on the streets was no spectacle to behold. On that particular evening, however, one couple didn’t quite fit in. To the ordinary eye, they were a normal couple enjoying the sights. But they were so much more.

Two troubled souls desperate to break away from their lives. Desperate to escape the seemingly never-ending conflict in the world. Desperate to be normal.

Wanda Maximoff was burdened with a traumatic past. Her twin brother was murdered by a robot. Her parents were killed by a bomb created by billionaire Tony Stark...

...who also happened to be her boyfriend’s father figure.

It’s funny, how life works its magic like that. If she had been asked if she had any interest in that awkward, purple synthezoid before she gained her powers she would have instantly denied.

But the more she got to know the Vision, the more she slowly felt herself be pulled towards him.

The way he was awed by everyday things. The way he attempted to cook for her. The way he would find activities to do together when she was sad. The way he was ready to sacrifice everything for her in a synthetic heartbeat..

Even then, in his human disguise wearing a casual shirt (which she had handpicked for him) he gazed with wonder at every little nook and cranny of the city. It made Wanda’s heart flutter every time she watched him.

Maybe that was what lead her to her crazy decision.

“Hey Vizh,” she said, dragging him to a corner of the sidewalk.

“Yes, darling?” Vision replied, smiling at Wanda’s enthusiasm.

“Do you know what day it is?” She asked with a cheeky grin.

Vision visibly contemplated the question, assessing whether it was a trick or a joke. It wasn’t everyday that such a trivial question would be asked to a man whose brain was literally made up of the internet.

“Today is Saturday the 29th of February. Leap day.” He answered. Upon seeing Wanda’s mischievous expression, he added “Why do you ask?” with an edge of playful suspicion.

“Do you know what happens today?” “I must admit that I do not. Should I?”

This is it! Thought Wanda, as she carefully planned her next words.

“Traditionally, today is the day that women propose to men. And if the man refuses, he has to buy her 12 pairs of gloves.”

The adorable look of genuine confusion on Vision’s face made Wanda’s heart skip a beat. Her plan was successful thus far.

Without giving him a chance to respond, she fell onto one knee. She felt adrenaline pumping through her veins. It was a pleasant feeling, not unlike her own powers.

Vision looked at her, his face a mixture of messages. She briefly skimmed his mind to try and solve his expression, where she found he was conflicted. He was overjoyed, yet begging her to change her mind. To rethink.

It was not going to happen.

“So Vision, will you marry me?”

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!”

Vision hadn’t even fully entered the lab when he was greeted by Tony. It was almost a routine at this point. Vision would turn off his transponder and Tony wouldn’t inquire about it. Unless there was an emergency, in which case Vision would come back immediately as instructed. That was the unofficial deal between them. Vision was entitled to privacy.

The lab was far messier than it had been when he’d left it. He would often clean up after the scientists when he was in the compound as he had little else to do. Bruce would usually try to keep things organised, but today was an exception.

Judging by the way Tony Stark was frantically typing on his keyboard, Vision could only assume that the pair had made a breakthrough.

“Mr Stark, please may I have a word?” he asked, taking care to phrase the question so that Tony would pick up the hint.

Luckily, he did.

“You’ve had eight, but sure. Bruce, would you give us a minute?”

Dr Banner turned around from where he was working and looked at Tony quizzically, before shrugging and leaving without a word.

“What’s up?” Said Tony, not looking away from his computer screen.

Vision felt his body tremble, but it was in fact as still as ever. This feeling was familiar. Nervousness. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He said

“I’m flattered, but I’m a married man. You’d have to talk it out with Pepper.” Joked Tony. After getting no reaction from Vision, he mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “tough crowd” and focused back on his work.

“Mr Stark, do you think of me as human?”

Vision watched as Tony tensed and slowly spun on his chair to face him. He was thankful for the sudden absence of the clicking of the keyboard so that they could have a serious conversation.  They looked at each other for a little while, before the man let out a sigh.

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you. No I don’t.” Tony said.

Vision’s limbs suddenly felt very heavy, and the world around him seemed to slow down. Was it anger? No, he would feel the urge to destroy something. It was more like... disappointment.

“But that’s only ‘cause I helped make you. I know your circuits and stuff, and you remind me too much of JARVIS. So no, I don’t think you’re human. Then again, I don’t think Thor’s human either. But he is a person, and so are you, that goes without saying.”

Vision found some comfort in his creator’s words.

Tony spun back towards his computer and resumed typing. It was now or never, Vision decided.

“So if I were to marry Wanda…”

This time, the silence was deafening. Tony froze and Vision braced himself for… something. Anger, shame, guilt- anything that would be directed at him.

Wanda had always mentioned wanting to swap powers so that she could phase out of awkward situations. She would literally let the floor swallow her up. Vision suddenly understood why this would come in useful.

“Say what now?”

The pause had been smaller than he had expected, lasting only a few seconds. “I mean, would you give me your blessing if I were to get married?” Vision repeated, suddenly thinking better of mentioning Wanda straight away.

Tony let out a sound akin to a snicker. Which grew into a chuckle. Which evolved into a laughing fit. He began to laugh so hard that Vision was genuinely worried.

It ended far too quickly.

“Wait- you’re serious?”

Vision, who’s expression hadn’t changed since his declaration, simply nodded.

The billionaire let out a sigh, and slowly rose from his chair to face the synthezoid. He placed a hand on his shoulder (Vision bent his knees ever so slightly) and smiled warmly.

“Bruce owes me $10.” “It was that obvious?” “You’re new to all this. And yeah, it was. Come on, turning off your tracker, coming back in a really good mood... Even Bruce could tell.”

Tony grinned up at Vision. Vision smiled briefly in return before his expression melted into a frown, and he stepped backwards.

“You know that you’re supposed to be happy, right?” Said Tony, quickly growing concerned.

“I don’t know.” “Come on, tell me what you’re thinking.”

Vision stood still and proceeded to look Tony in the eye. He rarely voiced his thoughts to the billionaire, as that role was reserved for Wanda. But there were some things that he simply couldn’t tell her. Some things that could only his creator could understand.

“It feels wrong. It feels wrong to marry her. You’re right, I’m not human and I never will be. She deserves someone she can love fully, someone she can spend her life with- create a family with. I cannot give her that. She will grow old and I will remain as I am. I don’t want her to have to go through that-”

Tony watched in silence as Vision listed numerous reasons why he shouldn’t marry the woman he loved. It was undeniable that all of his points were true and well thought out, but Tony couldn’t tell him that. They worked in a dangerous business, one where every day was a matter of life and death. It had taken him too long to propose to Pepper Potts, and he was not going to let the Vision make the same mistake.

“If you had this many doubts, then why did you propose to this girl in the first place?” He asked.

“...Actually it was Wanda who proposed to me.”

Tony snorted. He then sighed and outstretched his arms for a hug. Vision had only ever been offered a hug by Wanda, so he awkwardly shuffled into the genius’s arms. Their small embrace seemed to settle his doubts. He should have pulled away sooner, yet somehow he was satiated. Relieved. Soothed.

“You’ll be fine.” Said Tony firmly, stepping back. “You’re growing up, Vizh. It’ll be good for you.”

Without warning the lab door opened and Bruce emerged.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I just had to check if it the program synced yet.” He said apologetically.

Tony rubbed his hands together in sudden delight. “Forget it!” He said. “We’ve got a wedding to arrange!”

“Wait, wedding? Who’s wedding?”

Vision immediately turned to Tony to try and stop him from-

“Vision’s marrying the Maximoff girl.”

Telling Bruce.

If Dr Banner’s eyes had widened any further, they would have popped right out of his skull. “Wa-Wanda? Vision is getting married to Wanda? You’re getting married to Wanda?”

Bruce ran a hand through his hair.

“Great, isn’t it?” Tony smirked.

Bruce wasn’t amused.

“Oh no, no no no. Tony, are you sure this is a good idea?” He asked in a hushed voice, as if Vision couldn’t hear him. He could. Every single word. Each word was a stab to his synthetic heart.

Tony gave Bruce a pointed look.

“‘Course it is. Now come on, we’ve got to make some calls. This wedding isn’t gonna plan itself!”

Ring ring! Ring ring!

Wanda looked down at the crumpled bit of paper in her hand and prayed that the number was right. She had already encountered a wrong one and didn’t want to make the day any more awkward than it was going to be.

Her worries increased when a child’s voice answered the phone.

“Hello?”

She knew that Clint had children, so she thought there was no harm in continuing the call.

“Hi there! Please may I speak to your Dad?” “Sure!”

Wanda heard shuffling on the other side. And then the beautiful sound of children’s laughter. She couldn’t help but reminisce on the times she had played with Pietro when they were younger. A time that was ripped away from them far too soon.

She felt relief wash over her as Clint’s voice finally answered the phone.

“Uh, hello?” “Clint! It’s Wanda!” “Wanda? How did you get this number?”

She felt slightly guilty to be the cause of Steve betraying Clint’s trust. But her reason was important. Besides, it had been a long time since she’d talked to Clint and she had begun to miss him quite a lot.

“Steve gave it to me. I just wanted to ask if we could meet.” “Why? Has something happened?!”

His voice was suddenly drowned with concern. Classic Clint. Joking around one second, prepared to fight to the death in the other. He would do anything for his family, not all of which he was related to by blood. Wanda hoped that he would consider this when he answered her question.

“No, no. I just wanted to ask you something.” “If you just wanted to ask me something then you could just do it now, seeing as you went through all the trouble to get this number.” “No… I would rather do it face to face.”

Truthfully, she wanted to be able to skim his mind to see if his reaction was genuine.

“Look, you gotta understand that it’s not that easy for me to just drop everything and leave anymore. My kids are growing up, Nathan’s starting school… I don’t wanna miss out on anything else. I want to be the Dad they deserve.”

“Would you walk me down the aisle?”

“Yeah, eventually. When Lila’s old enough. Still got quite a while to go thou- wait what? Walk you down the aisle?!”

Wanda could hear the faint voice of a woman down the phone.

“What was that, Clint?” “Nothing honey!”

Wanda suppressed a laugh at his sudden change of tone. “I’m planning to married this fall.” She said.

“Wanda, that’s great! Who’s the lucky guy?”

This was the question that Wanda had secretly been dreading. The last time Clint had met Vision had been in battle, and that hadn’t been pleasant for either of them. The rest of the group had been slightly sceptical at first, but had soon warmed up to the identity of Wanda’s fiancé and were eagerly helping to plan the wedding.

But Clint’s approval was the most important one she needed.

“Vision.”

A painful pause.

“Oh uh… you did think this through right?” “Of course.” “And he can’t have s-” “I know.” “And he’s a… uh…” “He’s a what, Clint? A robot?”

She had heard the questions so many times that she was sick of it. She didn’t understand why her friends couldn’t see Vision the way she did. As a person.

“...yeah.”

“Well he’s not, Clint. I love him and he loves me. It’s as simple as that.” “Sure, whatever you say.”

“So?” “So what?” “Will you stand in as my father?”

“Wanda, what sort of question even is that? Of course I will.”

Vision stood at the top of the hill and gazed down at the construction below him. New Asgard was to be a temporary solution to the homeless citizens of Thor’s home planet, and would act as a shelter until a permanent solution was found.

Said Prince was striding up the hill was hailing him.

“Vision! It’s been a while! How are you?” He said, his booming voice stretching out for what seemed like miles.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Vision replied, much more quietly in comparison. “Wanda and I-”

“Ah, Wanda.” Thor interrupted. “She’s the reason you were born, you know.”

It took every single component of Vision’s mind to avoid overthinking that statement.

“...yes. Well, Wanda and I are getting married-” “Oh, congratulations!” “Thank you- and I was wondering if you would be my best man?”

To be entirely honest, when Tony had first mentioned finding a best man, Vision had no idea what the job entailed. So he had done his research, and Thor was the person who immediately popped into his mind.

“I would be honoured to be the best man!”

...Except he doubted that the Asgardian knew what it was either.

“Do I have to do anything, or…?” Asked Thor, confirming Vision’s doubts. “I believe you have to give a speech and protect the wedding rings.”

At least that was what the internet said, and he had quickly learned not to believe everything he read.

“Ah, yes. I knew that.” Thor most certainly didn’t. “Well, how hard can it be?”

“My thoughts exactly.” Vision replied. He felt relieved now that the matter was settled. As more parts of the wedding were gradually sorted out, he would be able to give Thor more details. Things were going smoothly so far.

“Is it alright if I bring a few friends?”

“Friends?” Vision couldn’t help the hint of exasperation that leaked into his voice. Time was running out, they only had a few months until the wedding and though it wouldn’t make a difference, he still wanted to return as quickly as possible.

“Just a few of my closest companions.” Said a beaming Thor. “I don’t see why not.” “Thank you, my Vision!”

Wanda sat in her temporary apartment, gazing in wonder at Vision’s shortlist of wedding rings. They had been at it for hours, because Vision had a very different definition of the word “short”.   

“Vizh, I trust you. You can choose whatever ring you like for me.” She said, after she had almost fallen asleep for the fifth time.

“I know, but I believe all of them would suit you.” Said Vision. “There are 1,742 rings on this list compared to the millions of…”

It was the one time that Wanda felt sympathy for Stark, who had apparently also sat through this list.

“Why don’t you just get all of them? I mean, it’s not like Stark can’t afford it.” Wanda jokingly suggested.

“How is it possible to wear that many rings?” Vision asked innocently.

Wanda let out a chuckle. “No, you can’t- nevermind.” She turned back to the screen.

“Wait, what’s that one?” She said, pointing at one ring in particular.

“That one? That’s a royal ruby. Why, do you like it?”

It was quite a large gold ring, with an oval-shaped red gemstone in the middle.

“It’s perfect.”

“Thor, the rings please.”

“Of course!”

A wet-eyed Thor handed the rings over to Steve, who whispered a quick thanks.

The couple had decided to have meaningful words engraved on the inside of their rings. Wanda chose a word for her ring that immediately made her think of Vision. “Humanity”. Vision’s ring was engraved with the phrase that made him first realise his true feelings for Wanda. “Spirits lifted”.

“Now, repeat after me.” Instructed Steve, as he gave the first ring to Vision. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

“With this ring, I thee wed.” Repeated Vision, gently sliding the ring onto Wanda’s supple finger.

“Wanda?” Prompted Steve, as he gave Wanda the second ring.

“With this ring,” she let out a breath of joy as she slid the ring onto Vision’s finger, “I thee wed.”

Steve smiled warmly at the pair, before announcing the words they had waited too long to hear.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss.”

The roar of applause and cheers were deaf to their ears. Wanda wrapped her arms around Vision’s neck and drew him closer for their first married kiss.

“I love you.” She said, as she pulled back.

Vision just smiled broadly, and stared at his wife, who stroked his cheek lovingly.

Even an android can cry tears of joy.

[tlbodine]

Writing Slasher Fic

These days, when you hear "horror," the slasher is one of the first things that probably comes to mind. That's most likely because slasher films absolutely dominated during the 1980s, when many of us were growing up and forming our opinions about the world, and then made a strong resurgence in the 1990s when the younger half of a generation as doing the same thing.

There are a ton of slasher franchises that pop immediately to mind, each centering on an iconic killer: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Ghostface, etc.

But the slasher genre has, primarily, been confined to the silver screen. You just don't see as many novels in the same vein.

Oh, undoubtedly you find novels about serial killers -- but they tend to be police procedurals and cop thrillers, not the same classic "teenagers getting chopped into pieces" format as we're accustomed to in the movies. What's up with that?

Well. Some thoughts.

What is a Slasher Fic?

Slashers are stories about serial killers who go on murder sprees and wipe out a number of victims one-by-one, often all of them members of the same social group. The most traditional format involves a group of teenagers who are mowed down systematically by a killer while the authorities are useless to intervene. There is generally a moral element wherein the victims "deserve" to die for various on-screen transgressions, whether it's being Too Stupid To Live (tm) or having premarital sex (a classic, but now largely outdated, plot device).

You survive a serial killer, these narratives suggest, through moral superiority rather than force or skill.

And that makes sense, in a way, if you consider that these Hollywood serial killers are really not very much like real serial killers at all. They are the personification of our baser instincts, our animalistic nature: unstoppable killing machines that seem to feel nothing, either physically or emotionally, and whose desire for destruction is relentless. They are all of the worst parts of our nature, and so it makes sense that defeating them would require calling upon the best parts of our nature.

So Why Are There So Few Slasher Novels?

I suspect that part of the reason you don't see the book equivalent of Halloween very often is that, from a technical standpoint, many of the things we find most satisfying about slasher films do not translate very well to print.

The first issue is the violence. Slashers depend on gore and jump-scares; they live firmly in the "shock" camp. Which, as we know, is one of the hardest to write. Seeing someone killed in some particularly gruesome way affects the brain differently than imagining them being killed that way. You can still write the blood and gore, but it won't be quite the same. It's much easier to pull off over-the-top, campy, gleeful-dark-giggles-inducing fountains of blood on the screen than on the page, because you have absolute control over what it looks like. Your reader, on the other hand, will supply the details themselves with their own imaginations, which makes your job a little harder. Not impossible! But harder.

The second issue is narrative structure. Traditionally, novels are told from a single perspective, or at least a single perspective at any given time. Their strength is the ability to get into the head of a character and feel what they feel. Film, by contrast, provides a third party objective view, where the camera serves as a voyeur. That creates tension by putting us one step ahead of the victims at any given time.

In other words, it's a lot harder to shout "He's BEHIND YOU!" to characters in a book.

Therefore, a slasher novel would need to have a more distant omniscient narrator rather than a close-third or close-first person perspective.

But what about first person from the POV of the killer, I hear you asking, and to that I say: Excellent, it can be done, but what you get will not be a horror story in the classic sense. By putting is in the head of the killer, we will inevitably sympathize with him, which makes him not scary. He might be doing awful, grotesque things, but we won't be afraid of him because if we're in his head we know he's not standing right behind us.

To be afraid, we need to be in a position of sympathizing with the victim, and feeling what they're feeling. Otherwise, you're looking at a thriller or a crime novel or a mystery or anything else that's not horror.

(Which is fine, of course, but this is How to Write Horror and not How to Write Gory Thrillers, which would need to be a book of its own)

Okay, Okay, So Does That Mean I Can't Write a Slasher Novel?

Nope! This totally does not mean that.

But you just said....!

I know. I totally did. But just because something is difficult does not mean that it can't be done! There are quite a few young adult authors in particular who have written some classic played-straight slasher novels.  

The trick to writing an effective slasher:

- Create a cast of characters who draw strongly on archetypes, but give them a little twist that makes them likable and unique. You want to do this because you'll have a large cast, by necessity (you need a lot of bodies to hit the floor), and you want those characters to be instantly relatable.

- Write from the perspective of your "final girl." You can deviate from this POV sometimes to provide a bit of drama (breaking away to see the killer in action elsewhere, for example) but most of your narrative space is going to be spent on watching the main character encounter the mutilated bodies of her friends and running from danger.

- Add an element of mystery. A slasher plot can feel a little thin. Bump up the cerebral horror by including a mentally engaging subplot or mystery to solve -- such as, perhaps, the killer's identity, or what he wants with the main character. You'll see this pop up time and again in most (but not all) slasher films: what seems to be a random attack turns out not to be so random after all, because the killer is actually deeply entwined in the Final Girl's life in some way. Unraveling that mystery puts some meat on the bones of the narrative.

And of course, remember to keep in mind the other tips and tricks we've discussed already in terms of building suspense, writing gore, handling shock, etc.

Some Required Reading to Get You Started:

I Know What You Did Last Summer by Lois Duncan (it's a child of its times, and has some really painful dialogue, but it's interesting to study alongside the film)

Some of R.L. Stine's Fear Street books are good. For our purposes, I'd recommend starting with Lights Out, The Prom Queen, and Silent Night. The Cheerleader series is pretty good too.

Some of Christopher Pike's novels are in the same vein. Try out Chain Letter, Slumber Party, and Weekend

Survive the Night by Danielle Vega is not strictly a slasher (the monster is an actual monster and not a serial killer) but the format is essentially the same, and it's worth studying.

The above are all young adult novels, because that's what happens when you're writing about teenagers getting carved up. Compare and contrast with these essential slasher-fic movies:

Nightmare on Elm Street

Halloween

Friday the 13th

Scream

Urban Legend

I'm probably missing some recommendations, so toss them in the comments!

[headstrongblake]

5) things you didn’t say at all (this one A LOT though in like every verse because he's too damn curious)

ASHLEY ATTEMPTS TO CLEAR HER INBOX | @trikrulinkon

THE BAND VERSE

1.    there’s not a specific moment in octavia’s mind that she can look back on and realize that that was the moment that despite whatever messy feelings were involved strictly between the two, lincoln had grown from bodyguard to family. and not just to her. there had been a time when she resented the idea of him and his job but now? could she even imagine a time when he’s no longer around? it didn’t seem possible. 

    emerald hues took in the scene below her as a towel wrapped around her shoulders at the top of the cliff the others and her had jumped from earlier. jasper, monty and harper swimming and dunking each other in the water. raven, lincoln and bellamy sat around the fire they’d built talking and laughing at the others in the water who were beginning to feel just how cold the water really was as it neared autumn. she couldn’t help the smile that appeared on her lips, growing until it almost touched her eyes at her best friend and lincoln’s banter back and forth. it felt right– like he’d been a missing piece from their lives all along. 

    octavia’s staring and a moment too long when her eye catches lincoln’s. there’s that softness in his features— the one that seems to be reserved for when he looks her way and it’s like a calm washes over her body. no, there might not be a specific moment in mind, but one day she looked at lincoln, much like today and noticed that having him around felt a little like home. 

   her smile shifted to a more devious smile as she dropped the towel from around her shoulders and took a few large steps back. without hesitation octavia got a bit of a running start before she leapt down from the cliff into the water beneath. 

MILITARY VERSE

2.      they’d been preparing for this day ever since lincoln returned the first time and explained his plans of attending school to become a medic rather than returning for deployment after deployment like bellamy. his graduation had come and gone, and octavia could honestly say that the two blakes and fox had never cheered louder than when lincoln walked across that stage. the day was filled with excitement and fun but the pinning ceremony was what lincoln had been talking about for years. octavia never anticipated being apart of it however and her nerves woke her up as soon as the sun began to creep into their room.

     it’s a quiet moment as octavia turned on her side and propped herself up with her elbow to watch the way his chest rose and fell with his breaths. it still baffles her sometimes. how they all ended up here. once upon a time it had just been the two blakes against the entire world. they were always unstoppable together. although if octavia was being honest it was confusing for her at first as their world started to expand. as she found fox and bellamy found lincoln suddenly her small world with bellamy wasn’t just for the two of them. but maybe it’s why she never imagined this. this moment of lying peacefully in bed with someone she loved ( could she ever admit that out loud? ). her life and plans had solely included bellamy and now it’s like she’s living in a dream land with someone filling her heart with a love she’d never felt before. did he know she loved him? could he feel that when they were together? did he know how proud she was of him for chasing after and obtaining his dream? god, she hoped so. maybe she’d tell him today.

    lincoln’s eyelids fluttered open and that sleepy smile formed on his lips as he met her gaze. what? she heard him say, but all she could do was smile, expelling a breath through her nose as she laid back down beside him to rest her head in her favourite spot, the crook of his neck. “nothing babe.” she sighed contently suddenly not ready to get up to face the day. octavia wanted this moment just a little longer.

FIND YOUR WAY OUT

3.       the worst of the physical symptoms have subsided but it’s one of those days her mind torments her with the hopeless feelings. the intense emotions like waves trying to drown her completely. though she’s been through this enough times to knows all she needs to do is refocus herself. move on to something else that could slay her demons and so when lincoln goes to leave for the tattoo shop, she practically pleads with him to let her go. besides, she needed out of his apartment or she was going to go stir crazy. it’s quiet in the shop and it doesn’t seem like there’s many appointments on the books for today which works in her favour. 

     “will you draw something for me?” she asked after standing in front of the desk he was already drawing on for more than a few moments watching his fingers move as he sketched. his furrowed eyebrows and confused expression was all she needed before her shoulders lifted into a shrug. “just… anything, you don’t look very busy,” she stopped a moment, hesitating to let him disagree with her but when he didn’t object she continued, “i’m giving you free range, anything you want to create and you can put it anywhere but my back.” not like lincoln needed reminding, he already knew her back was reserved for her father’s memorial tattoo she’d already gotten him to outline. “not too big, so i can actually pay for it.” she added with a smirk before turning to his chair. 

    octavia sat quietly in the chair, emerald eyes fixated on lincoln as he worked. there’s something about going under the needle, that anticipation of new ink that was so therapeutic to her that in her state of mind, she had to work hard to keep her mouth shut or else her demons might spill out. often she’s chattered to lincoln about mundane things. bikes. the gym. life in alexandria and the way it used to be when the clubs were all one but today she had to bite her lip or else mundane wouldn’t come forth.

   her eyes closed as lincoln came over to prepare the different colors of ink he wanted for the spontaneous piece. she tried to bask in the peacefulness she continuously felt in a tattoo chair, but that same feeling wasn’t there. just the anxiousness and sadness. the constant thoughts that octavia had used drugs to hide from. slowly her eyes opened and her lips parted to speak. i used to tell bellamy i wanted to die. i’d be sick in bed and beg the withdrawals to kill me because i didn’t want to do detoxing and recovery again but i also couldn’t live without the highs and then i did die…. i was really dead and the emptiness i feel inside… that gaping hole my parents left in me was still there. she blinked owlishly as lincoln finally turned to her with the drawing in hand. a small smile appeared as she nodded at the artwork. “it’s perfect— let’s do this.” octavia said instead of what rolled around in her head.

PARENTS VERSE

4.    no one said it would be this hard. okay… maybe bellamy had. but none of the books she’d read could have prepared her for the exhaustion, the way her heart suddenly felt like it lived outside of her body as soon as isabella came early. after they decided to keep her, they were supposed to have another five months to completely prepare for her. except she’d come a little over three months later. even though she didn’t have many complications and besides being premature was a fairly healthy little girl… it terrified octavia to see her in the incubation chamber to help with her slight jaundice. 

    the sight of lincoln at their daughter’s side, in awe of her and prepared to take on any pain for her though—… it wasn’t a feeling octavia could describe. when the test had come back positive she spent weeks preparing for the idea that lincoln would bolt the second she brought it up but to her surprise, he’d handled it better than she had. but trust is a difficult thing for her and even though he promised in the back of her mind she was always waiting for him to leave. she’d never known what it was like to have a real father but with each passing moment, she was more and more convinced isabella wouldn’t suffer that same fate. she’d never wonder why she wasn’t enough.

     octavia might not have said it but despite their circumstances of how they got here, she was glad to have lincoln to go through this with. glad that her child had lincoln for their father. isabella might not have been born traditionally to two people ready to be parents but she was born to two people who believed she was their whole world. and maybe that was enough. sure, the two of them were ultimately linked forever by the bond of sharing isabella but the friendship that had formed over the course of time wasn’t something that could be forced. parenting would be complicated but having lincoln in her life was easy like breathing.

    their casual relationship had needed something stronger to be parents and they seemed like they might do just fine. 

[shirlleycoyle]

It’s Time for the Eternal September to End

A version of this post originally appeared on Tedium, a twice-weekly newsletter that hunts for the end of the long tail.

For nearly 30 years, the internet’s culture has been defined by a corporation’s move that seemed to, without any care about what was left behind, ensure that a sense of order would never again drive the growth of this series of tubes.

This phenomenon is, in many ways, the central tension on which the modern internet is built. And it’s a tension that most people aren’t aware of, even though it is an undercurrent secretly framing our online interactions.

I am, of course, discussing the Eternal September, a 1993 move by AOL to allow its users into the free-for-all that is Usenet. In the decades since, the conflict that move created, although long forgotten today, lingers in the way that technical users and not-so-technical users interact.

And, in too many ways, it is the basis for digital conflicts that have nothing to do with back then and everything to do with right now.

It’s time to retire the Eternal September. Twenty-seven years is long enough.

“September 1993 will go down in net.history as the September that never ended.”

— Dave Fischer, a Usenet user, discussing the start of the Eternal September in 1993, the point at which the chaos created by mainstream interest in the internet began to overwhelm the early discussion forums that originally attracted technical users to computer labs on college campuses and pokey modem connections at homes.

At its root, perhaps we can blame AOL for all of this. Image: sarahe/Flickr

How the Eternal September set the stage for decades of online conflict

For decades, internet culture has struggled with the n00bs. For generations, as new people entered the digital gates, there was an inevitable sneer that awaited them as they hit the onramp.

If you’re not in the know, what do you know?

The internet is, of course, not alone in owning this dynamic. It plays out in all sorts of areas that traditionally have nothing to do with technology: High school, internships, sports teams, organized crime syndicates. The little guy knows nothing and has to work their way up. Most don’t. You get the idea.

But on the internet, we all technically should be on equal ground. After all, knowledge is at our fingertips at all times.

Yet tribalism has long defined the internet. We are built around subcultures upon subcultures, and these subcultures have only hardened over time, creating shells of insularity that have proven impenetrable.

And perhaps its most notable form came about in the mid-1990s, when the “Eternal September,” a concept involving the n00bs taking over Usenet, took hold. For those who don’t date back to this era, here’s the general gist: Each school year, thousands of new students would flock to Usenet groups for the first time, hoping to find community or learn from the folks already there. The problem was that they were green and didn’t really know much of anything, so they faced rejection until they got the gist.

In September of 1993, AOL added Usenet access, turning a controlled situation of steady ongoing community growth into something of a flood of never-ending n00bs. Suddenly, the social norms that the Usenet community was built around were broken at the seams, never to be repaired.

This was a major communal shift, and one that put early online users on the defensive. To put it simply, people were dismissive of their fellow users based on nothing other than the domain attached to their email address. It was an easy signifier; if you had an AOL.com email address, you were a dork, or beyond saving.

An essay on the commercialization of the internet, written in 1995 by MIT student Christopher R. Vincent, put the situation like this:

As accessing the Internet continues to grow easier for the novice user, it is inevitable that many of these social guidelines will fall to the wayside. This is not to say that new users should be denied access to Internet resources. It has been the first reflex in many newsgroups to flame any user who posted from an online service provider. Some of the larger providers, such as America Online have not received a very warm welcome to the network (note the formation of the alt.aol-sucks newsgroup). This reaction does not necessarily stem from elitism, but from a genuine fear that as more and more users appear, Usenet will fall apart. Indeed, this is a valid concern. The current system is not designed for the commercial-oriented direction the Internet is now taking.

Over time, the close association between AOL and lamers subsided, in part because our online access points evolved toward providers decided by local area, rather than consumer-oriented services.

So many flame wars fought over digital turf. Image: Anthony Cantin/Unsplash

But this dynamic of conflict and savvy emerged in other ways. When web-based communication alternatives emerged to replace Usenet, new types of turf wars appeared: Apple vs. Microsoft; open source vs. proprietary; Something Awful vs. Fark; Digg vs. Reddit; liberal bloggers vs. conservative bloggers; early adopters vs. technical laggards; iPhone vs. Android. You get the idea.

In many ways, these ideological battles of the digital age only found gasoline with the advent of social mediums, which helped to better connect people, but failed to account for the side effects that came with all that.

But the internet, early on, played into this tribalism in ways that allowed it to evolve into something dangerous.

“The newbies could not be forced to accept what we now understand as a central tenet of cyberlibertarianism: that cyberspace, too, was a place, separate from the world, and thus free. For it all to work, all the visionaries needed was for everyone to recognize a small set of self-evident truths.”

— Bradley Fidler, a researcher with the UCLA Computer Science Department, discussing in the IEEE Annals of the History of Computing the rise of what he calls the Eternal October—the understanding that “it is no longer possible to pretend (no matter one’s privilege) that cyberspace can circumvent the politics of civilization.” At the time he wrote this, it was October 2016, ahead of a U.S. election that helped bring some scary forces into the world. I can only imagine how Fidler must feel in October of 2020.

The calendar never stops. Image: Eric Rothermel/Unsplash

Why, in many ways, the Eternal September is still going strong

Look, I’m not going to tell you that we have a constant influx of newbies hitting the internet at all times. That certainly is not what I mean when I describe the Eternal September as an ongoing thing.

But I do think that the spirit that led to the Eternal September becoming a landmark in the first place is still very much there. It has simply taken new forms.

There’s a modern term for what this is called, in fact: Gatekeeping. The idea that, because of your identity or lack of experience, you shouldn’t have access to an online community.

Now, to be clear, there are lots of kinds of gatekeeping in terms of the internet—for example, the technical barriers created by large companies to shape the broader network, whether internet service providers like Comcast or Verizon, or major tech firms like Google or Facebook. Those figures deservedly need their callouts.

But in this case, I’d like to focus on a particular cultural kind of gatekeeping, the kind that leaves people out for reasons of elitism, fear, or simple “othering.”

Earlier this month, a great example of this type of gatekeeping emerged on Twitter when a user claimed that they assumed anyone who used a mouse to program was a junior programmer. That user (rightly) got criticized over it—though I’ll pass on linking the viral tweet, because who needs to add to that kind of drama? But examples that don’t get called out in quite that way abound online, and they represent the way that users tend to focus on their own tribes.

Back in 2017, before our world became even more divided, CBC News columnist Ramona Pringle wrote a piece about how digital tribalism has proven a nasty side effect of highly amplified online echo chambers:

In and of themselves, tribes aren’t inherently bad. We all long to be part of something bigger than ourselves, and tribes fulfill that need. But where we get into trouble is when we introduce borders, which separate my land from your land, and by extension, my tribe from your tribe. When borders are violated, we fight. This, in broad strokes is the root of all war.

The Eternal September, in many ways, was the opening salvo in decades of division on the internet. And in the years since, it has only gotten worse.

In many ways, we understand the people around us even less than we did a few years ago. We aim for the jugular instead of the handshake. And by the time the word “compromise” is thrown around, it’s already too late. It’s a sign of weakness.

It is perhaps sad to think about, considering the early internet was built around utopian dreams. But it’s where we are. I’ll let you draw the through line between ’90s programmer/IT elitism and some of the internet’s modern day problems, because ultimately all those programmers helped lay the foundation for today’s tech infrastructure.

I’m still idealistic that some of that utopian spirit is out there, if you know where to look. But I wonder if, in the big fight for protecting netiquette, the early internet set a bad example for all the people that came after, who jumped in not looking for help, but looking for a fight. The initial separation between the normal and the technical that the Eternal September fostered underlined the tribalism that other internet users follow without even thinking about it. It discourages people from taking part in communities—especially those underrepresented in STEM fields—and sows the kinds of division that attract users to misinformation.

And I wonder if the same types of users who criticized the n00bs way back when are the same folks who can help get us back—by setting an open-arms example that other communities can follow.

At a time when Godwin’s law is less an observation and more a genuine worry, perhaps there are bigger fish to fry than whether or not someone asked a technical question the right way … and those technical users might need to shift their plan of attack accordingly.

“We need to make sure that Rust is prepared to welcome people who are just learning about Rust today. We don’t want anyone to feel like they’re late to the party.”

— Tim McNamara, a software developer and writer who focuses on the Rust programming language, making a case for leaning into the Eternal September, as far as the Rust community goes. It’s a refreshing take from someone in a technical community, and an approach that others should follow.

So, you might be wondering: Why write about this topic, and why now?

Honestly, what got me thinking about it was one specific reaction to a recent piece I wrote about the mainstream demise of FTP. I aimed really broad with that piece, because honestly, that’s usually who I write for—someone who knows something about technology, but who doesn’t know everything and is curious about learning more.

Functionally, the point of my piece was that plain vanilla FTP is on its way out, a vestige of the past for the vast majority of people, thanks to its forthcoming removal from major web browsers. But there are people in narrow spaces who likely will never stop using it—or, who choose not to stop.

While I can get technical, I generally write for regular people who know a thing or two about technology but who, perhaps, aren’t engineers.

And well, this user was a technical user in a highly technical role. And they decided to mock it for not covering specific technical cases where it might persist, rather than spending five seconds considering that they may not be the target audience for this piece. Cockroaches are everywhere—you don’t have to tell me.

I’ve seen this with other things we’ve written as well. Last year, I ran a piece about OS/2’s continued use on the NYC subway system, and I spotted a reader who got upset because we focused on the obvious novelty of a vintage operating system being used in a high-profile way, rather than focusing on the low-level technical aspects that may appeal to that specific user but may go over everyone else’s heads.

I get it. You might get upset if you dive into this with the expectation that we’re going to talk about code or infrastructure on here, and that’s not what you get.

But the reason that technology content is often written more broadly is because, well, writers often want to open up the gates and encourage people to take a deeper look into tech. As much fun as it is to do a deep technical dive into the nuances of how a system is designed, there is a deep threat of losing people if you go too deep without explaining why they should care.

Tying back to our discussion of the Eternal September in this piece, I would also like to make a broader point: We have to figure out a way to bridge the gap between technical and non-technical users online. To pretend that there isn’t room to offer a helping hand, or that we can just focus on our own tiny bubble, just isn’t working anymore.

In September of 1993, well-established users who felt their territory was being encroached on by people who didn’t earn their place in the digital culture reacted by being inhospitable to those users.

It’s nearly three decades later, and in the years since, tech has very much won. Our world has been redefined by it, in ways large and small. And while technical corners can and should exist, we should no longer pretend that technical users have a monopoly on these stories.

And, honestly, given the way that technology has negatively affected the lives of so many, we need to do a better job explaining it to the average person, so they have a chance to grab a hold of the ways that algorithms define what we see online, or how automation might reshape our lives and careers, in ways good and bad.

The Eternal September is over. We’re well into October now. We need to open up the gates.

It’s Time for the Eternal September to End syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[volleys-chan]

No prob. How different would Zoro/Zolo's life be if he never went to the island that Rika lived in and continue hunting down pirates while training to be the BEST swordsman in the world? Also, do you see him fighting against Luffy someday to earn a BIG reward?

Aw man, whipping out some hard ones! Wow. This one is really tough! I mean, originally, Zoro was supposed to be a member of Buggy’s crew according to the preliminary character drawings Oda did, just like Nami was supposed to be a badass cyborg with a mechanical arm and a giant ax (I sorta wish he had done that just to break some common female tropes, but I still love Nami as is). But we aren’t here about the original ‘what ifs’, we are here about the ‘what if he never met Rika’. I mean, Zoro could have gone to that island, but if he had not gone to that restaurant to eat, the world would have changed monumentally.

But we aren’t talking about his effect on the rest of the world, we are talking about what would happen to him. Honestly, I think he would have probably kept doing what he had been doing. Wandering aimlessly and using bounties of local pirates and bandits to feed himself as he gets more and more lost. He said he didn’t travel off shore much as account of not having nautical navigational skills (he gets really, really lost) so maybe he would have eventually ended up somewhere relevant, but joining the Strawhat crew was what really pushed him forward on his quest. When you do something for someone other than yourself, like Zoro does for his crew constantly, it propels you forward faster than if you had just tried to do it for yourself. Yes, he had promised Kuina that he would become the best, but, no offense, the living often are a better motivation than the long dead.

Would he have joined someone else? I don’t think he would have. He had already been offered a place in Baroque before meeting Luffy and he ended up having to kill the agent because he turned him down.

How about the Marines? Hahahahahaha, no. Zoro is not someone I associate to following strict rules and regulations. He isn’t good at it. Most of his childhood flashbacks show him training alone and without much guidance. He makes attacks up on the fly throughout the show. I have a feeling he took the fundamental basics of what his master had taught him and filled in the blanks with his own ideas, seeing as there wasn’t another student practicing Santoryu. You see him fighting others at the dojo, but only once is his supposed master ever shown teaching him a technique, the cutting technique, and he did so only once. If he was a teacher that oversaw all of Zoro’s training, I am quite positive that Zoro would have mastered the technique sooner.

Not just that, but it showed that when he is down a sword or two, his abilities greatly diminished because he wasn’t traditionally trained to handle one sword or two. When he lost two of his swords in the fight with Black Cats, he could only turn things back around in his favor when Nami threw his other two swords at him. Since then, I think he started to work on those skills incase something like that every happened again, but I don’t think he really had real hands on training until Mihawk.

And there was even a whole mini-filler saga that showed what would happen if he didn’t have the bonds he had with the other Strawhats. He left to wander. He didn’t try to stick around to figure out if what was being told to him was true, he left. There was a reason Vivi liked to call him Mister Bushido. Because Zoro is a perfect example of a Ronin. He devoted his loyalty to Luffy because Luffy saved his life when a deal he had made- a deal what was supposed to be honorable- went sour.

Without Luffy and the crew, he wouldn’t have even met Mihawk when he did. He might have never met Mihawk otherwise. Yes, I will give him some sliver of chance with his uncanny ability to get lost in a straight line, but I also noticed his sense of direction, which possibly could have been Oda just making it more apparent for the continual gag, got horrifically worse when he obtained Sandai Kitetsu, one of three cursed swords to the Kitetsu name. And often he stumbles right into the people who would pose the most challenge to his abilities. But without Luffy, he wouldn’t have gotten that sword, or any other of his Meito outside of Wado Ichimonji.

So, in short, I don’t see Zoro really propelling forward without Luffy. Without Luffy, he would still be bopping around East Blue completely lost with very little growth to his skills.

So, would he ever end up fighting Luffy for a huge reward? No.

Not because of the reasons most would probably think though. Personally, I think that the Strawhats wouldn’t have even made it as far as they did without Zoro. Each Strawhat was specifically needed to further strengthen the whole of their crew. Ussop wasn’t apparent at first, but I like to think him a bit like a Magicarp- he only evolved into a kickass Garados with time, experience, motivation, and patience. 

In fact, without Zoro, if the Strawhats even made it as far as Thriller Bark, Luffy and the rest would have been killed by Kuma at that point, or at least Sanji would have been killed in exchange for Luffy’s life because Zoro is the second biggest tank in the crew with Luffy being first. 

But I don’t even think, without Zoro, they would have won against Kuro. Zoro held the damn line. He kept everyone there until Luffy arrived, caused a ruckus, then got himself hypnotized like the lovable simpleminded idiot he was, and left everyone else holding the line again until Kuro pretty much showed up. 

Zoro is, next to Luffy, MVP when it comes to taking out the hard hitters. I love Sanji, don’t get me wrong, and think him equally vital, but Zoro’s place in the crew is/was (recently he hasn’t had to be nearly killed to kick it into gear, which is a nice change of pace. He was like the one character throughout all of Paradise that was never, ever at full health. Or if he was, he didn’t get serious until he at least had one gut wound.) to take the brunt of the damage while Luffy fights off the head hancho. The Strawhats without Zoro probably would have never even gotten as far as Orange Island. Luffy trusted Nami too easily and if Zoro had come in like he had, the price, I believe would have been steep. Either it being Nami’s end at Buggy’s hands or Luffy’s. Possibly both.

BUT, if we are talking like Zoro reached those same levels of ability and skill like he did in his symbiotic relationship with the Strawhats and Luffy being successful as a pirate sort of ‘would Zoro go after Luffy’s bounty’ question- I’d still say no. Zoro never chased down bounties. He just happened upon the ones readily available to him, as shown in the flashback that Johnny and Yosaku had about meeting Zoro. Even Zoro admitted he never went after pirates for any intention than to get enough money to survive off of. The fact that he became so famous, probably was confusing to him, since he wasn’t even trying to make a name for himself like that.

Again, too many unknown variables of how things could have changed with that one butterfly effect. I presented you with the facts and observations I have made, but that doesn’t make it 100% accurate. I have a very different vision of Zoro than a lot of people because I don’t think he is as sexist as people assume him to be. But I hope my perspective proved to be interesting at the very least!

Thanks again for asking! ^_^

[emmaswanchoosesyou]

CSBB: Part of the Narrative (8/17)

Emma Swan just wants to write the follow-up to her bestselling debut novel, that��s all. But when she gets off to a rough start with her new editor, Killian Jones, she knows it’s not going according to plan. Then, an unexpected figure from Emma’s past reappears and life begins to mirror the crime thriller she’s penning. Suspicion and secrets abound–but love might too. A writer/editor AU with a thriller twist.

Rated E. Story warnings: sexual content, kidnapping, some gore, violence, and minor character death–not to mention salty language! On Ao3 here.

Chapter warnings: Profanity, discussions of past relationships and canon pregnancy-related issues, and some snogging.

I hope you all know that your comments and likes and kudos and reblogs have been cherished and squealed over. Thank you to all the wonderful peeps at @captainswanbigbang for all you’ve done to make this possible, and all the support you’ve given. Sophie @shady-swan-jones made the delightful banner and another photoset that I adore. Kayla @bleebug did some incredible art for the first and sixth chapters, which you can check out here and here. And all the love and thanks to Kris @sambethe for beta-ing this and making it a ton better.

[Ch. 1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Chapter 8

Emma comes clean to Killian about her past, and they bond during their second date.

Killian

Killian stared through the small window at the front of his oven, hoping the conversion to Fahrenheit hadn’t utterly destroyed his mother’s recipe for Lancashire hotpot. He stepped back and glanced out the window above the sink. Even through the dark, the grey of the clouds promised snow, and it was already colder than he’d like. So this would be perfect, provided it cooked properly.

In the meantime, this cooking adventure was distracting him from his nerves about the night’s plans with Emma. He knew they needed to talk--they truly did--but just the thought of seeing her filled his stomach with butterflies, in the best way. In a manly way, as he’d told Robin.

Aye, manly butterflies.

It had only been a few days since he had seen her, but he missed her. They had texted over the last few days, which had been pleasant--excellent, in fact--but it wasn’t the same as being in the same room as her, holding her in his arms or seeing the light in her eyes while she talked about the things she was passionate about.

He was just so…excited to see her again, to have dinner with her, to talk, to… snuggle. Or, perhaps more than snuggle. Either way, it would be good.

Obviously, they had a fairly heavy conversation ahead of them, but he was optimistic. In the days since their date, he hadn't heard from August. Nothing. Not a word. And, frankly, Killian was relieved. He was in no rush to hear from his current boss and former conspirator. He had actually emailed him the other day with an update from the next chapter Emma was working on. It was the exact sort of thing he should be talking to August about. The exact thing a publisher needed to hear in the earlier stages of developing a novel, and not what he had asked Killian to do.

And what a chapter it was! The story was starting to unfold, and Killian was hooked. They had finally met the protagonists, a social worker and the child she was trying to help get out of the foster care system.

He couldn't help but see the parallels to Emma's own life, and to Henry. And he was thrilled. Not only was Emma clearly drawing from her own experiences, but she was painting them vividly. It left Killian feeling he knew her a little better for it and knew it would draw others into the story.

A knock at the door interrupted Killian's musings, and he gave a sigh of relief. Not that he wasn't enjoying contemplating Emma and her story, but maybe the butterflies could actually settle down now that she was here.

"Just a minute," he called out, pulling the dish out of the oven. He straightened his vest over his shirt, ran a hand through his hair, and went to the door.

He opened it to find Emma's beautiful face, her small, crooked smile betraying how glad she was to see him too. She was carrying a bottle of wine and shifting her weight as she stood up on the tips of her toes, her nervous energy soothing him and putting him at ease even as his heart skipped a beat. At least he wasn't alone in this.

"Good evening, Swan. You look delightful," he said, brushing a quick kiss across her cheek and taking the wine from her.

Emma blushed, but eyed him hungrily. "You look good too." Then, her eyes drifted away from him as she sniffed at the air. "Okay, that smells fantastic."

He held the door open and motioned for her to come through. "Well, then come in and let's get us fed."

He watched her as she moved past him, her cream-colored sweater and figure-hugging pants making her look delectable. The style made her seem soft, approachable, while also unaccountably badass when coupled with her knee-high boots, and he couldn't wait to continue what they had started on Friday.

Killian shook his head and idly thumbed at his mouth, hoping he hadn't been drooling. He let his prosthetic hand drop to the small of her back, guiding her into his flat. "Would you like the tour, or would you like to eat first?"

She turned and offered him a smile. "Tell me what that delicious smell is, and then I want a tour. I know your tour of my place was interrupted, but I'm curious."

He smirked at her as she peered over his shoulder back into the kitchen. "Then all in good time, love. Our dinner will be a Lancashire hotpot. My mother's recipe."

Emma softened. "That's great--what's in it?" Stepping back and turning to stand beside him, she kept her eyes on him.

"Traditionally, it's made with lamb and local vegetables, but I used beef, as lamb… well, it takes a fair hand to cook, and I’ve only got the one. I also didn't imagine slaving in the kitchen for hours would fall under the terms of 'casual' we agreed upon for tonight."

"Well, regardless, I can't wait to try it. Now show me your lair," she said, grinning at him.

He raised an eyebrow and set the wine down on the counter. "Lair? Do you see me as the sort that would have lair?"

She waved his question aside airily. "Lair, berth, dwelling...whatever."

"For starters, my 'lair' has this kitchen, and a cozy living room," Killian said, gesturing to the room in question.

Emma smiled, eyeing his well-worn and well-loved chair, the one he had brought across the ocean in spite of--no, because of--its odd appearance.

"At some point I'll tell you about my chair, that is if you tell me about yours," she said, turning away from the chair to face him.

"Deal."

"Shall we continue?" she asked, starting down the short hallway.

"Aye, we shall. As you can see, this is the hallway, and the bathroom. And through here is my bedroom."

She followed him into the room in question, running her eyes over the grey and navy striped coverlet, the sea chest in the corner, and the anchor and ship painting on the wall, the room’s feel neat and organized. Emma looked around almost wistfully. "It's very… nautical. And grown-up."

"What were you expecting? A single bed with posters from popular films?"  His gentle tone belied the biting words a little.

"No, I just… well, my place stays fairly orderly too, but that's because I don't keep much there. And I totally drop my clothes on the floor."

Killian laughed. "Normally that might be the case here, but there's this lovely writer who promised to come over for dinner, so I may have put things in order."

She smirked at him. "Hmm, feeling hopeful, were you?"

"Always," he said seriously, meeting her eyes.

She didn't look away.

&&&

After they finished their meal, Killian poured them each another glass of the wine Emma had brought.

She smiled up at him and took a slow sip. "That was delicious. Your mom's recipe totally holds up."

"Doesn't it? I'm glad it worked out over here, even with the adjustments to American ovens and measuring systems," he said happily.

"Maybe sometime you'll show me how to make it?"

He paused, seeing the hopeful look on her face. His heart beat faster, the idea of working side-by-side with Emma in his small kitchen--in either of their kitchens, really--the very opposite of vexing. "Certainly, if that's something you wish to do."

"I...I really do," she said, reaching across the table and taking his prosthetic in her hand. He patted her hand with his and let her continue. "I...so, yeah, I really enjoy spending time with you. I also realized that I want to get to know my son, and it seems like a lot all at once."

"I would hope you wouldn't consider me a burden, love," he said, trying to keep his features schooled, not wanting to place any sort of expectations on her even as he felt a twinge of disappointment.

She looked surprised for a moment, then rushed to reassure him. "No--Killian, not at all. But I think there are things you should know before we make any decisions." Her brow was furrowed in concern.

“I’d be happy to listen to whatever you want to tell me.”

“I know you were upset that I hadn’t told you. I could tell the other night, and I--just, well--I don’t owe you my story just because you told me yours,” Emma said, her voice low and intense.

Ouch. He knew her words were harsh, but also fair. He considered his own before nodding, acknowledging his silent display of frustration from the other night. He lifted his hands at her in supplication. “You’re right. You don’t owe me anything, but know that I would like to get to know you, and your story. So when you are ready to share, know that I’m all ears.”

She smiled at him, accepting his unspoken apology. “I was sixteen. I’d been in the foster care system my entire life, and I’d just run away from my last home. The Dixons...well, Mr. Dixon was interested in me in ways he shouldn’t have been, and Mrs. Dixon didn’t believe me. So I ran.”

“Christ, Emma, that’s awful,” he said, reaching for her hand again.

She didn’t pull away, instead she threaded her fingers through his and took a deep breath before continuing. “I went to Portland. The one in Oregon, that is. It seemed as far away as I could get. And, well, I was a sixteen-year-old with no skills, so I stole. Usually just small stuff, but I won’t lie, I was stealing more and bigger things as time went on.”

Killian rubbed his thumb over her wrist and nodded at her, encouraging her to go on.

“So I saw a car. A yellow VW Bug...”

“The one you have now? You still have a car that you stole?!” His voice was incredulous but tinged with amusement, and his eyebrows skyrocketed up toward his hairline.

“I’ll get to that, Jones, but yes,” she said, the exasperation in her tone lightened by the smile she gave him. “Anyway, the car was old enough that I knew it wouldn’t have anything too fancy to deal with in terms of alarms or locking mechanisms. So I got in and got the car going.”

“Next time I need to hotwire a car, I know who to turn to,” he teased.

Emma smacked his hand in mock reproof. “Nope, you’d pick something new and shiny. It’d be awful, and we’d so get caught.”

“I’ll have you know that I was a very good thief as a twelve-year-old,” he said, smirking at her.

She shook her head in response before taking a deep breath and continuing. “Well, I got in the car, and then I got the shock of my life when some guy popped up from the backseat.”

“Ah,” he said, the pieces coming together for him, “Henry’s father?”

“Yeah. His name was Neal, and as it turned out he had just stolen the car.” A melancholy look crossed her face, but she pushed it away. “He was older and had that irresponsible, easygoing vibe that screamed bad boy. So, naturally, my sixteen-year-old self fell for him immediately.”

He nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“We decided to team up. There were a lot of cons that were easier with the two of us, and we made our way from Portland to Arizona. We were together by then, and I was crazy about him. He said he was crazy about me. We had even started talking about going straight together, doing the right thing somewhere with a nice view of the beach. We were thinking Florida,” she said, her lips turning downward with a wry twist at her youthful naivete. “We settled on Tallahassee, not realizing it doesn’t have access to the beach.”

“What went wrong, love?”

“Neal had some watches he’d lifted a while ago stored in a locker in Phoenix. We were going to grab them, sell them and use the money to start our new life. But when we got there we found a bunch of wanted posters with Neal’s face on them. So I volunteered to go get them.” She paused and he squeezed her hand. “We were going to meet up afterward and head out of town.”

Killian winced, imagining all the ways that could have backfired. He wondered which way it had.

Emma didn’t let him stew in his curiosity for long. “I picked them up without a problem and went to meet Neal. Only he didn’t show, a cop did. Said they’d gotten an ‘anonymous tip’ someone would be making a grab and running with them.”

“Bloody hell, an ‘anonymous tip’? He--” Killian cut himself off, heat blooming in his cheeks as fury bubbled in his chest at the man who had so betrayed Emma. He was so appalled that he pulled back, disentangling their hands.

“Yeah. I think even the judge felt bad for me. My sentence wasn’t as heavy as it could have been, and they made sure I got resources so that I wouldn’t turn back to theft when I got out,” she said, fiddling with her napkin and not meeting his eyes.

He reached for her again and squeezed her hand, overwhelmed at what she had gone through.

She looked up at him, smiling sadly, a bitter twist to her mouth. “Two months into my year-long sentence I found out I was pregnant. I had just barely turned seventeen, I was in jail, and I--well, I couldn’t even fathom being a mother. Even if it meant I had to do the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do to my own child, I knew he deserved better.”

“And so did you,” he whispered, his heart breaking for her.

“Does that make me selfish? It’s just that what was best for him was also best for me, or so I thought at the time.”

“Of course not. Or rather, if it is...it’s the most understandable thing I can think of in your situation.” He lifted her hand to brush a kiss across her knuckles, then furrowed his brow. “Did Henry say something?”

“He wondered about why I had given him up. I told him the truth, and that I don’t exactly regret it. But I also told him that I do want to know him.”

Killian smiled at her. “And hopefully he wants to know you. If not, he’s missing out.”

She blushed but returned his smile. “Thanks. We talked last night on the phone, and we had a good chat on the way to Portland. I think… I think it’s going to work out.”

He desperately wanted to pull her into his embrace. “Thank you, Emma, for telling me about your past.”

She looked at him, something shy and earnest in her gaze. “Thanks for listening. I don’t generally talk about this stuff with, well, anyone.”

“I’m honored to have your trust,” he said honestly, even as the guilt of his work with August knifing through him even as he smiled. It was an honor, even if it was one he didn’t deserve, but he would endeavor to be worthy of it.

She didn’t seem to notice anything was off, and Killian let out a silent breath of relief. She didn’t ever have to know about his past behavior, especially since it was no longer an issue. Killian leaned back in his chair, shifting his hand to lift hers, thumbing at the top of her knuckles as he did. “Well, love, would you like me to pour us another glass of wine? We could do that and watch something, if you’d like,” he said.

Emma slumped her shoulders in relief, clearly relieved to have the more serious portion of their conversation over with too. “That sounds great.”

They settled onto the couch, Emma sitting comfortably beside him, his arm draped over her shoulder, as they watched Parks and Recreation. He wasn’t entirely sold on the American comedy, but Emma assured him it would change his life. He was willing to give it a shot, especially with such a glowing recommendation, and if it meant it was something they’d have an excuse to continue to do together outside of the office.

Honestly, though, he stopped paying attention to the show about the same time Emma’s hand started caressing his thigh. He tightened his hold on her, the chamomile and sunshine scent of her hair bewitching his senses.

She turned to look up at him, and he wasted no time capturing her lips with his. His tongue traced along them, begging entry that she granted. Their embrace grew more passionate as she turned to face him, her legs straddling his. She pressed against him, her fingers cupping his jaw as his hands slipped under her sweater. He lightly traced nonsensical patterns up her back with his hand and his prosthetic, letting them slide against the softness of her skin and moaning against her mouth as he did.

Killian’s moan seemed to startle Emma, and she pulled back. He was gratified, though, to see she seemed to have trouble catching her breath. As she paused but didn’t pull back further, he pressed open-mouthed kisses down her throat to her collarbone.

She arched into him again and sighed before finally pulling away. “Hey, Killian--can we--can we stop for a moment?”

He closed his eyes but nodded, acquiescing. Lowering his hands and removing them from under her top, he looked up at her above him, her long hair flowing over her shoulders. She looked like a goddess of sunshine, he thought, his brain still somewhat fogged, not receiving all the blood flow it normally would.

“Sorry, I just… well, a lot is going on right now, and I want to see where this goes. But I also want to slow down a little,” she said apologetically, her cheeks red--with either embarrassment or arousal. Possibly both.

He smiled, and pressed a chaste kiss to her nose. “You have nothing to apologize for, Emma. We can take this as slowly--or as fast--as you’d like. Whenever you like.”

“I just… well, you’re my editor.” She gave a small shrug and looked away a moment before returning to look directly down at him. “I want this to work, I really do. But if it doesn’t, we still have to work together.”

“I understand. Truly, lass,” he said, beseeching any god who might listen to please help it work out. He reached out and touched her chin, kissing her again, trying to keep it from becoming too desperate a thing.

[allanwalkerit]

I did it my way. (With a Little Help from My Friends)

‘I planned each charted course Each careful step along the byway And more, much more than this I did it my way’ - Sinatra

Over the last three years, I’ve built out some proof-of-concept data visualization applications for some large scale Enterprise clients, across a multitude of vertical markets.

These have included, in no particular order:

Semi-conductor manufacturing

Wearable technology manufacturing

Pharmaceutical distribution

Financial

Oil & Gas

Retail

Consumer Hardware & Software

Mobile Communications

Energy Utility

Without exception, every Enterprise client presented similar challenges - namely, how to visually represent data at scale in an insightful, and actionable format.

Here is my methodology.

I adopted a Data strategy:

Data as a service,

ETL as a service,

Data Science as a service, and

Data Visualization as a service.

Data as a Service (DaaS)

Data Acquisition

Technology is making acquiring data in an more automated manner arguably easier and relatively cheaper, increasing the volume and velocity of data produced. 

SCADA (Supervisory control and data acquisition devices), Bank ATM’s, merchant credit card swipe terminals, website forms, and sensors - such as Infra-red, Radar and Sonar - even when you compose a tweet...all examples of data acquisition. 

With more and more IoT (Internet of Things) devices becoming available, automation of data collection is becoming more even more universal and ubiquitous.

Data Storage     

If a record has a time-stamp, it can be recognized as an event, or a transaction; i.e. something happened at this time, on this day, in this month, in this year.  These records are (normally) stored in a database.

That was my bread and butter, making sense of events that have happened - or, what was happening in (near) real-time.  In recent engagements, it’s the latter that seemed to be more pervasive - sustaining ‘live’ data connections that are capable of very fast refresh rates - sometimes on a per second basis (but more often than not, updated daily).

Data as a Service at the Enterprise meant I’d be connecting to a “Data Lake” such as Hadoop/Hive, a Teradata warehouse on-premise database, or a cloud database like Redshift on the Amazon Web Services platform. 

Alternatively (or sometimes additionally), I’d be connecting to ‘NoSQL’ databases like Mongo and Cassandra, while location data was held in GIS (Geo-spatial Intelligence Software) databases like PostGIS or ESRI. 

There were also databases that are designed to take advantage of in-memory technologies, and are suited to analytical applications; such as SAP Hana, Memqsl, and Snowflake. 

My preferred solution for the foundation of a Data as a Service based architecture is Exasol, because it is proven to be capable of performing analytical tasks at scale, leveraging massively parallel processing and in-memory technologies, enabling rapid responses to intensive queries over massive data sets.  

ETL (Extract, Transform, Load) as a Service

‘Extracting’ reads data from a source database (and potentially multiple other sources), ‘Transforming’ is the process of converting this data (joining, unions, performing calculations, cleansing and aggregating) and ‘Loading’ writes to the target database (or writing back to the source).

Business Intelligence applications such as Tableau, Qlik, and Microstrategy often require data to be ‘shaped’ or ‘structured’ in a certain way; usually in a columnar format.

This used to be an arduous task - involving writing batch scripts - but no longer.  There are a plethora of enterprise ETL solutions available such as AWS Glue, Apache Kafka and Informatica.

My preferred solution for the basis of an ETL as a Service based architecture is Alteryx, because it is proven to be capable of extracting data from multiple sources - including Hadoop/Hive, Mongo, ESRI and Exasol. 

Using an intuitive drag and drop GUI (Graphical User Interface) - it is possible to develop a repeatable, re-usable data transformation as an automated process (also known as a workflow) that can be run on a scheduled basis.

Data Science as a Service

Traditionally, Enterprises would refer complex analytical and statistical tasks such as predicting, modelling, forecasting and so forth to highly skilled data scientists.

It is now possible to automate some of these complex tasks - on Platforms like IBM DSx (accessing tools like Watson ML & Apache Spark), and AWS Domino (accessing tools like Python, Julia & Matlab) but my preference is again, Alteryx, because it is proven to be capable of generating highly accurate predictive models, simulations and forecasts (using the open source R) at scale, as an automated process.

Data Visualization as a Service

There are many Data Visualization tools and libraries available:  IBM Cognos, Plotly, Microsoft PowerBI - but here I have three preferences, and sometimes, depending on the scenario and use-cases, I’ll combine all three.

Tableau is proven to be capable of plotting huge amounts of data points on a HTML Canvas. The Server JavaScript and REST APIs (Application Programming Interfaces) allow integration with responsive design Bootstrap web applications and a consistent library of user interfaces.  Combined with an Exasol database connection, Tableau is capable of querying multi-million high granularity records - for example transactions - allowing for interactivity over multiple plots/charts.

D3 is my preference if I am using low granularity or summary data. Instead of a server responding to a query and returning that response, d3 downloads and processes data client side, in a browser.  D3 is capable of drawing elements on an HTML Canvas or rendering SVG (Scaleable Vector Graphics).  It is cross-browser, platform agnostic, and ultimately, the most flexible library which allows for full customization.

Mapbox is my preference if I am using location data.  It is capable of rendering multi-million data points using vector tiles, which can be queried client side in a browser.

User Experience/User Interface (UX/UI)

jQuery UI  is my preference for a consistent User Interface library. I use Bootstrap to develop responsive design web applications.  I typically use client CSS and style guides to comply with typography, color palette and brand guidelines for the application.  

Charts and graphs typically remain in a grayscale color palette, with chart types conforming with Tufte/Few guidelines.

Example #1

Scenario: Four Dimensional Seismic Survey

Use-case: Predict magnitude of seismic activity over time for the different formations (horizons) in the anticline, and compare with actual values. 

Example #2

Scenario: Fleet Credit Cards 

Use-case: Predict churn and retention over time for different retail sites and compare with actual values, making the last data point actionable (alert site manager upon difference to target and/or outside normal parameters).

Example #3

Scenario: Demand and supply of products over time for different markets

Use-case: Predict origin and destination locations of logistical assets and compare with actual values over time, to inform a forecast model of product supply and demand.

Of course, I was being my normal flippant self when I sang ‘I did it my way’.  I had more than a little help from my friends - you know who you are of course, because I’ve tipped my hat to you on many occasions in previous blog posts.

‘What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song I will try not to sing out of key’ - Lennon/McCartney

The communities

Over the last three years, I’ve learned a lot from developers in various communities: 

The twitter-verse of data visualization practitioners, 

The Tableau community forum, 

The Alteryx community forum,

GIS Stack Exchange,

Stack Overflow,

GitHub,

Behance,

Dribbble, and

Codepen

‘What would you do if I sing out of tune, Would you stand up and walk out on me?‘

The Tableau ‘community’ as of late 2017, seems to be going through a radical period of introspection.  When I say ‘Tableau community’ - I’m really referring to the ‘Tableau twitterati’ - not the community forum participants per-se, but cliques such as MakeoverMonday and Women + Data, and the ultimate Tableau coterie - Zen Masters.  

In fact, Tableau themselves referred to these groups as ‘tribes’.

A culture, or sub-culture, can form behaviors and attitudes that stem from attachment and perceived loyalty to that clique.  Sectarianism is synonymous with tribalism, and is often an consequence of division.

When I read tweets haranguing other practitioners about plagiarism, and read blog posts with political statements to underpin an opinion, or examples of promoting gratuitous and egotistical self promotion, it gives me great pause for concern, and it’s very tempting to stand up, and walk out the door in disgust at what the community not only regards as acceptable, but normal.

‘Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song, I will try not to sing out of key’

I recommend that Tableau shutters the Zen Master program, and instead, promotes and grows the Tableau Foundation Data Fellowship.

I recommend that the Makeover Monday leadership and participants re-focus their efforts by contributing to the Tableau Foundation Projects and develop towards meeting the Sustainable Development Goals, volunteering their time to the Tableau Service Corps.

I recommend that Tableau welcome Women + Data members on the board of their diversity committees and judging panels of the ‘IronViz’ competitions and feeder contests.

I believe that these recommendations would foster an inclusive, collaborative culture, rather than accepting and promoting sectarianism as a norm; and would re-energize the wider Tableau community. 

[textsfromumbridge]

Slytherin to your Chamber of Secrets (Rebecca x Nathaniel)

Or: five times Nathaniel was a gigantic Harry Potter nerd in front of Rebecca

AN: I’m a terrible person, but I’m into it. Sorry not sorry. I’ll drag you all into the trash with me. 

...

#1

How did she not realize before? Ever since the elevator, it had become so obvious to her. 

And she wasn’t talking about him being hot - that was definitely a before the elevator thing. 

She was talking about the myriad of Harry Potter related things she had discovered around and about her boss. And she hadn’t even been spying on him that much. Okay, not much for her was still a lot more than most people, but still. She hadn’t even followed him home - much. 

Yeah, she’d been a little bored since the engagement... since it ended. 

Dr. Akopian thought she’d been channeling her energy into something healthy. And it was healthy. For her. She was trying to draw out Nathaniel Plimpton’s humanity from underneath his robotic exterior. It was good for the firm, and it had nothing to do with her personal interest. 

Nothing at all. 

Which was what she’d tell Paula if she wasn’t so busy reconciling with Scott - which was super important, she understood that. She just missed the days when Paula was readily available to listen to all her issues. 

Heather wasn’t nearly as good of a listener. 

Wait, what was she thinking about? Right, Nathaniel Plimpton’s scarf. They were on their way to New York (damn Audra Levine), and since fall had made its approach everywhere but in California, warm clothes were necessary. 

But a green and silver-grey striped scarf? Obvious. To her, anyway. None of the other Muggles on their flight had made the connection. 

“Still evil,” she told him, with a pointed look. 

“Cunning and ambitious,” he corrected, before turning back to his files. 

She totally got points for noticing. She knew she did. 

#2

The office Halloween party was traditionally raucous - Darryl just really loved dressing up, and now that he and WhiJo could wear a nauseatingly cute couple’s costume, he was even more excited. 

The boss, however? Not so much. 

The party had to be held on a Friday, after working hours, because God forbid his employees were anything other than robot lawyers. 

And maybe her Hermione Granger costume wouldn’t exactly pass muster - McGonagall would surely give her detention for the amount of buttons she’d opened on her slightly too small blouse - she had the advantage of completely flustering Nathaniel. 

It wasn’t the entire reason why she chose the costume - but she could admit to herself that it was a part of the reason. A tiny small part that she was denying the second after admitting it. 

Because she could relate to Hermione. She was not the gorgeous one - she was the awkward one with the brains that most people didn’t know how to relate to. 

But Rebecca was a different person - she knew now that she could never be happy with Ron. 

The epilogue was bullshit anyway. She’s argued that point to everyone who would listen. No one ever seemed to agree. 

“Albus Severus?” she muttered angrily to herself as she went to grab herself another drink. “Now that’s worse than a Cruciatus.” 

There was a chuckle behind her, and she didn’t even have to turn around to know who was there. She knew that voice - had dreamt about that voice more than once, even after the damn wind went back to wherever it was supposed to be. 

“When a Weasley is better at naming children,” he started, and she knew this was going to be good. 

“You know Hermione picked the names,” she immediately interrupted. “Ron’s middle name is Bilius!” 

When Paula found her half an hour later, she was still extolling the ridiculousness of naming children after constellations. Seriously, Scorpius? 

Of course Nathaniel would defend the Slytherins on this. He was just so typical that she refused to tell him that she wrote Rose/Scorpius fanfic once upon a time. Someone had to fix canon. 

#3

They’d gotten more comfortable with each other since the Halloween... incident? What should she call a thirty minute conversation about wizarding naming conventions? 

Super unprofessional, probably. 

Now that she was completely free - except for her elaborate schemes to completely ruin Josh Chan’s life - Nathaniel was more overt about his interest. 

Obviously he still needed to get her out of his system. 

Which was completely fine with her, because she was in desperate need of some no strings loving. Just because she was busy making her ex-fiance’s life a living hell, didn’t mean that she couldn’t get off. 

A warm body was more to her tastes than something running on batteries, at least at this moment. 

She don’t need no man. 

Nathaniel was just super convenient, which was why she just rang his doorbell on a Sunday afternoon. 

It was the time he was most likely to be home alone - not with a random other girl. She wasn’t asking for a threesome here. 

“Rebecca?”’ he seemed startled when he opened the door. 

Nathaniel Plimpton, not in a suit for once. He wasn’t even wearing a shirt, just pants that were either pajama pants or for another one of his work-outs. He did seem to be a little bit sweaty. 

She was really trying to focus on the fact that he knows her name now, but he was also kind of ridiculously fine without a shirt. 

“Going to bed?” she was prepared for the occasion. “Mind if I Slytherin?” 

He groaned and let her walk right into his apartment. 

“Why does that work for me?” he asked himself. 

“Because you’re not a Muggle,” she kicked the door closed with her foot after kicking off her heels. 

In the heat of the moment, she might even have forgotten about her epic plans for revenge for just a second. 

But by the time she did her Walk of No Shame that evening, she was back in planning mode. Of course she was. 

#4

Nathaniel started being nicer to her after she slept with him. 

She could ignore it for a little while, but it didn’t last very long - it was just so boring. If she wanted to be around someone who was nice to her she would just sleep with Trent again. It wasn’t like he hadn’t offered - so many times. 

But she figured that Nathaniel would just go back to normal after he got her out of his system. She got him out of her system. 

Mostly, anyway. She wouldn’t be opposed to a repeat, but she was not exactly writing Mrs. Rebecca Plimpton in her journals either. Or Plimpton-Bunch. Hyphenating just sounded super classy. 

Wow, the random places her mind took her - maybe she should try talking to Dr. Akopian about that. 

After she finished with Josh Chan. 

“Rebecca?” Nathaniel actually asked instead of demanding these days. 

People were noticing - he was being nicer to everyone in the office, and she was just not sure if it was genuine. This was Nathaniel Plimpton, he didn’t have a nice bone in his body.

Okay well, he did have one particularly nice, large... 

Maybe they could just bone again, and he would go back to being an asshole and she would be able to focus on her plans without getting distracted by her libido again. 

But him being nice... It stopped doing anything for her after the wedding that didn’t happen. 

“Take off your clothes,” she told him. 

“I must have drunk some Felix Felicis,” he muttered, teasing smile on his face. “Because I’m about to get lucky.” 

Really, why was it that every single time he made a stupid reference she got more than a little gooey? 

Not something she wanted to think about, so she pulled him along by his loosened tie. 

#5

Fortunately, Nathaniel seemed to figure out that his temporary lapse into kindness didn’t do a damn thing for her. 

By the next time they slept together, he was back to being himself - rude comments at work when she had to take the stairs and got winded after half a floor, bossing everyone around because he was the boss of them, the whole deal. 

She almost forgot that Nathaniel being himself also included him being a giant freaking nerd. 

Office Secret Santa was a Darryl thing, and Nathaniel was forced to continue the tradition because of something he’d promised his work partner during his nice streak. 

Of course Nathaniel “randomly” picked her name from the metaphorical hat - judging from the gorgeous Time Turner necklace she wore around her neck all the time now. 

“For when you’re late to work” the note had said. 

Because even when he gave her a totally charming gift, he still had to be a dick and remind her that she was late to work too often. 

The real N. Plimpton was back! 

Sure, he was somehow still interested in sleeping with her, but that she did not mind so much. 

It was nice to have occasional moments of pillow talk about how the damn Time Travel play had been better when Team Starkid did it, and to hear him humming the Mysterious Ticking Noise in his shower. 

She was only slightly crazy into him, and he didn’t get overly nice so she’d sleep with him, not anymore. Sleeping together became a routine that she didn’t want to change. 

And why would they, really? They were both single, attractive, intelligent people with a love for the magical world created by JK Rowling. She’d slept with worse - a lot worse. 

She still got the goosebumps sometimes - especially when they were all alone in the office after hours and... well, letters to Penthouse had nothing on that. 

There was some role play - the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Restricted Section Hook-up was her favorite, while Nathaniel favored more Quidditch related scenarios. That was probably related to all the phallic objects and the opportunities for some truly awful jokes. 

Somehow, he was still hot even when he cracked jokes about polishing his broom. 

“What the devil is going on here?” It was like he knew that she’d been thinking about him. 

“Your Snape voice is actually getting better,” she tried really hard not to sound too surprised about that. “The Malfoy impression is still better, though.” 

He just had the snootiness down pat. And she’d been really into Draco Malfoy back in the day - and a little bit still. 

“You just like seeing me rolling around on the floor,” Nathaniel smirked. 

She shrugged - rolling around on the floor with him was pretty good, yes. 

“Are you ready to go?” he had his suitcase with him. “I promised to prove I don’t need Accio to make you come.” 

Her stuff was easily gathered, and she rushed off so eagerly that she forgot to even look at the clock. 

It was 4:43 PM on a Friday. He was wearing his Slytherin tie, she wore her Ravenclaw blue with pride. 

All was well. 

[shipbuildings]

REGARDING A CERTAIN SLENDER MAN.

There exists an enigmatic figure, most often seen as a tall, extremely thin man wearing a suit, possessing long, strange arms and no face. Where it comes from is as much a mystery as what it wants. all that is known is that there is evidence of him existing for far longer than one would expect. Those who see it often wind up missing or worse, their mutilated bodies impaled upon branches and their organs removed, strung up in garbage bags. its presence is associated with paranoia and sometimes a strange sickness, with those who see it frequently found maniacally writing strange messages and drawing mad scribbles of a dark, faceless figure. It is advised to avoid investigating too much lest you get entrenched too deep – and find yourself the subject of unwanted interest…

First appearing in the collective consciousness on June 8th 2009, the Slender Man is an urban legend initially created by Victor Surge on the something awful forums. A by-product of a thread which prompted users to create paranormal-inspired images, it quickly gained memetic status, and many multimedia projects featuring its likeliness followed in each other’s wake.

Make no mistake – what we traditionally know as the Slender Man does not exist. The very idea of it is absurd. That does not mean, however, that those who have seen it and suffered from its influence are entirely mistaken in their claims. 

As an exercise in confirmation bias, the example of which the Slender Man provides is unparalleled. What was once called the Boogeyman, Wendigo, or simply That Which Lurks In The Dark was given a concrete identity. As the concept spread it only became more pervasive.

And that is exactly what made this creature so dangerous.

Conceptual predators have existed since the beginning of thought itself. Sharks are hardly harmless, but they are also, generally, exceedingly stupid. If you were to encounter one [ probably right before it swallows everything you are whole ] you would likely notice there is no methodology to their madness, no rapt intelligence behind their actions. Sharks react. Sharks stalk. Sharks bite. And they don’t do much else beyond that.

But Octopoda are a completely story. Octopoda think. And Octopoda enjoy playing with their food before they eat it.

So when Victor Surge created what I assume he considers to be his magnum opus all those years ago, what he really accomplished was giving conceptual mimic octopi the best disguise they have ever been gifted. Suddenly that dark shadow that you had a habit of catching in your peripheral vision had a name and a reason to incite your terror. The more you know of the Tall Gentleman [ or rather, the more you think you know ] the more the actual culprit behind your dwindling sanity is able to envelop you in its grasp. You begin to hear things. Think things. Memories begin to twist in upon themselves. You believe you can interpret the will of the thing that is torturing you. And you are compelled to… well.

The story with the animals is always the better story.

Conceptual sharks leave behind empty shells in their wake. Conceptual octopi leave behind dead bodies. 

Believe me.

I would know.