#.a comment on whether or not an actual person is alive or dead. *rips notes* oKaY

[hershelwidget]

I drew something for TBoCI for the first time in what feels like forever even though it’s only been a month

Something something AU where instead of sending each kid to the Magical Islands FT keeps all them with him and Perry as well so they ALL end up on Cold Island pre-collapse… Alternatively here’s four canon characters and two fanmade characters, guess whos who (all of that was sarcasm)

In other words I decided I will starting this over from the ground-up. It’s been over a year and my motivation is finally, FINALLY back. I will be keeping all of the current stuff on @theballadofcoldisland but that ask blog is officially shut down and is now just an archive.

Instead of being one long and strange story that only focuses on characters that honestly have nothing to do with the title, I will split TBoCI into several smaller stories that give a MUCH better insight on the motivations, groups, and the like. I will inevitably share the original files, drafts, and ideas.

This is the part where I get somewhat emotional and sincere apologies in advance to plushii, who I might mention in there. All good things, my friend. All good things.

I think this is the best course of action. There are a lot of characters in this story that despite being incredibly important, are not addressed properly or not at all until the last chapter that only exists in my notes. I mean… A massive amount of this story has only been discussed in a discord chat with a person I cannot contact anymore. It’s a massive mess of an idea that sounds stupider everytime I think of it.

And then a long while ago now, I was on Pony Town and talking to a friend I has just made. I distinctly remember they were in a Celestial skin. I think at some point they’d asked what “TBoCI” meant in my name, and I explained my story to them. They said they were writing a fanstory for MSM as well. I encouraged them to post it.

Now I daily see wonderful, wonderful content for that story, both from the creator and the fans. I finally understood what I did wrong. TBoCI was incoherent and messy where Fallen Stars was clean and consistent. I had so much in my mind that I had spilled it all out to One Person, and now there exists only two people in the world who know who the hell Kane is (possibly only one person now)!

What I’m trying to say is, in short, thanks @plushii-gutz . There’s a few factors to me being able to write TBoCI again, but you’re definitely the biggest part of that. Our encounter was a blessing.

And to everyone, please look forward to a much smoother ride. This is a fun one.

[antihero-writings]

The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch1)

Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)

Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom’s memory being the most obnoxious of them. Is it possible to stop Tom’s past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?

Notes: I’ve actually had this idea ever since the first or second time I read Chamber of Secrets. Though Tom has never been my favorite character, I found young Tom interesting, and I always thought things would have gone differently if he had come back when he was Harry’s age. I was always curious if he could have been redeemed if things had gone this way. Now, I know JK Rowling purposely wanted to create an irredeemable villain, so she wouldn’t have redeemed him even then, but I wanted to write a fic playing with that idea myself.

Despite having had this idea for a long time, I didn’t write it because I was afraid I’d bite off more than I could chew, and wouldn’t finish. But this last time I read Chamber of Secrets, I decided I’d just go for it. I’m still afraid I won’t finish, as this is the longest premise of any of my fics posted, (and I haven’t finished any of my other, shorter, long fics…) but I didn’t want that to stop me from at least trying out the idea. Even if I don’t finish it, at least I’ll have something to show for it!

All that being said, if you like this fic and do want me to continue please consider commenting, and/or reblogging. Sometimes one comment can mean the difference between me continuing, and me leaving the fic behind. It really helps to know people are interested.

Above art from the internet. 

Chapter 1:

He didn’t know how fitting it was.

Tom Riddle didn’t know just how fitting it was that the first two things he sensed after waking up were the sound of crying, and the stench of blood.

He didn’t remember how much of his past—or perhaps one could call it his future—was comprised of tears, blood, muffled screaming, and the words avada kadavra! hissed in a cold, high voice that was surely not his own.

Right now, he didn’t remember much of anything at all.

Sixteen years or sixty, he remembered none of pain, the loss, or the victory.

All he knew in this moment was that world was damp and cold, it smelled like death, and someone was weeping.

That was the world to him; an ink spill on living canvas. A hole made in screaming pages.

The sound of weeping was the first thing he knew in this new life—(or this old life, made new)—it echoed and filled the place—whatever the place was—like the slow drip of water in an empty cave; tiny on its own, mistakable in a crowd, but sharp, vast, and overpowering when the world was hollow.

And the world did feel hollow.

He did not wake to a warm, dry hospital bed, a fire, and a heap of get-well cards. His family did not surround him, showering him with love and gratitude, asking what he did and did not remember, and what had happened to their sweet boy. No one held up pictures, pointing to the scenes and people within them fervently demanding remember?!, praying amnesia would leave him sooner rather than later.

Instead he woke to a place in which every sensation burned: cold searched for weaknesses in his damp cloak and slithered across his skin; the smell of blood bored into his nostrils, enough he could almost taste it; and the longer he heard the wailing it burned in his ears too.

Burned because it hurt his heart not just his ears? Because it was sad? Because it mattered, and he needed to know what was wrong?

Surely not.

Burned because it was annoying, and he wanted to shut it up. Burned because it wasn’t a nice sound to wake up to, and whoever they were ought to have more courtesy for orphan boys who just wanted to wake up in peace.

Everything burned because something about feeling, sensing anything at all, was…oddly unfamiliar. Not strange as in a new way; it was like something he once knew well that had been forgotten, left behind for a while, like nostalgia.

And if simply living was this foreign…how long had it been since he was last alive? How long had he been a ghost? And what brought him back to his body?

He opened his eyes.

Sight didn’t change the impression he had received from his other senses; mostly it just added ‘dark’ to the list of not-very-nice things the world was made of. And due to this fact, sight didn’t burn nearly as much as his other senses. Still, the world was crisper, more colorful, somehow, despite its drab nature…

He was in a chamber, a dungeon of sorts—probably underground. Stones and statues, turned brownish-green in the humid atmosphere, lined the walls. Snakes poked their heads out at him from the walls, their eyes glittering as if they’d come alive at any moment. And before him was a particularly large statue of a man.

But, as he sat up, his clothing—long, black robes, with a green patch on the chest—clinging to him uncomfortably, there were a few things sight showed him worth noting:

The first, most obvious, was the gigantic snake lying beneath the statue some ways down the chamber, its scaly green tail glistening in the low light. It was clearly dead; lying still, its belly up. There was blood where its lifeless eyes had been scratched blind, and a hole in the roof of in its gaping mouth, one of its front fangs missing. This was most likely the source of the foul smell. How long had it been dead? Couldn’t have been long, considering the other things around the room…

The second, what may have once been a book. This one was very close to himself. Its pages were ripped out of their bindings, in shreds, surrounding him like fresh snowfall. The leather cover had many holes and gashes in it, apparently made by the missing fang, which also lay beside the book, blackened ink on its tip—(but can words bleed?)—the book mutilated beyond repair. This was one of the strangest sights. It was almost as if someone—probably the person crying—blamed it for their problems and took their anger out on it, before that anger became the sorrow that resonated through the chamber now.

The third was a gleaming orange and red bird, long tail feathers unfurled on the floor, like a flame, its head held high, sitting quietly beside the mourner. It didn’t look like it didn’t belonged in such a grim place—like a rich person walking in a slum.

There was another glittering thing beside him: a silver sword with jewels encrusted in the hilt. This was likely the cause of the snake’s death, especially considering it had blood coating it.

A little way from it was a pile of raggedy brown fabric. …He couldn’t quite tell what it was supposed to be.

The sixth: the source of the crying, a boy. He had unruly black hair, and his black robes—(the same robes, he noted, that he himself was wearing, or very similar)—were christened with the blood and slime of beasts—(and maybe men, he couldn’t know)—and ink. He was possessed by the demon that was tragedy; his entire form shaking, heaving, whether from sadness or rage, or both, only time, and a healthy dose of good questioning would tell.

The last thing of note, and what was most likely the source of the tears: a corpse. A girl specifically, with red hair—almost as fiery as the bird’s feathers—ashen skin, and, once again, the black robes—(must be a uniform of some sort). Perhaps they were at a school? Quite a dreary school it was, if so. She was small, apparently young.

The scene was both a lot, and not much, to go on.

Three living things—one without memory, another without peace—two dead, and four inanimate, one of the inanimate things more mauled than any of the living or dead.

His mind started to provide theories about the scene,

Theory one:

The snake had killed the girl, the boy had taken up the sword and killed it in outrage.

Made sense, but that still left the diary, the bird, and himself. As well as the pile of fabric…

He didn’t see the bird having a big role in this; his best guess was that it belonged to the boy, as it seemed loyal to him, sharing his grief, and that its role was the scratch marks on the snake’s eyes, helping the boy defeat it.

Theory two: The girl had written something in her diary the boy didn’t like, perhaps something about he himself. He had torn the diary apart, and in a jealous rage sent his pet snake after her, but regretted it after the snake went too far and killed her, and decided to kill it after all.

Theory three: Reverse of roles; the diary was the boy’s, and she had found it, and he was either mad she found it and tore it, or she had after finding something she didn’t like in it, potentially about him, and the offended party let loose the snake.

Theory four: The snake belonged to neither of them, it was by accident they happened to wake it, or stumble into its home while fighting about this diary.

But why did they find an underground chamber the best place for an argument? Did they live here? Was this a normal place for them to spend time? Like some sort of secret hideaway? Were they in hiding from something?

Four(a): Or else were they on some quest to find it—was the snake guarding treasure? Did the diary hold the map to it, and they tore it simply to keep anyone else from finding it, or else falling into the same trap?

Theory five: The diary was his own; not the boy's or the girl's. He had some relationship to one or both of them that went awry.

Five(a): The snake was his own, and he had set it loose on the girl for some reason, perhaps he was the jealous and angry party here.

Theory six: The snake didn’t kill the girl.

Six(a): She was already dead or dying before the snake even arrived. Maybe the snake's venom, or something else about this chamber, was meant to cure her and failed.

Six(b): The boy killed her. Perhaps in his aforementioned jealous rage he had took the sword to her himself, and now he regretted it.

Six(c): He himself killed her.

He sat up, blinking at the dreary universe. The boy didn’t hear him, just kept on crying. It was a very tiresome noise to hear so constantly.

He reached over and, quietly as possible, drew the diary closer. What made its disfigurement all the stranger was that every page he could see appeared blank. People didn’t usually have qualms with blank diaries—it was the words that people were so touchy about.

When he lifted up the cover, he could see beneath the gashes a name: Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The sight of the name sent a curious sensation through his stomach; he didn’t remember who it belonged to, but the name set a fire boiling in his gut, a bubbling, swirling, writhing fire within him. A fire that threatened to destroy everything around it too.

He looked up at the mourner. Was that his name? Or was the girl, in fact, a very petite, long-haired boy? Did the diary belong to no one present, and it was the secrets within, not the owner, that mattered? But there were no words at all, let alone any secrets…

Or…was it perhaps his own? His own name that he didn’t even remember.

Sitting here theorizing wasn’t going to get him any closer to the truth.

It didn’t seem like a good idea to disturb the boy in his grief, but he didn’t have much choice—losing your memory is an ordeal of its own, you know.

He got to his feet—this sensation too didn’t feel completely mundane to him. Everything felt nostalgic—like in some fond childhood he walked, and smelled, and saw, and heard, but as he grew up, sense left him, and he forgot what it meant to be alive. His damp clothes clung to his body, making him shiver.

His footstep broke the atmosphere; the first new sound in the stagnant place, the pieces of peace cutting through the tears. The boy gasped—the kind of raw gasp, full of dread and despair, one takes when they realize the dragon is awake.

But the dragon in this particular chamber was slain…

His slow steps filled the chamber, an ominous repetition, the ticking of a clock.

When he got close, the boy’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword, the metal twinkling in the dim light, scraping and clattering on the stone as it moved.

“I’d stay back if I were you,” his voice was soft but solid, dangerous, wet with tears, shaking with rage, hoarse from screaming.

He stopped. He didn’t know what that meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Hmm…What to ask? ‘Why’s that?’ ‘What happened here?’ ‘Who are you, who was she, and, while you’re at it, who am I?’

The scene was still fresh; if he touched the embers it might reignite.

“And…If you were me, what would you do?” he decided to ask. Speech, words forming on his tongue, felt odd too… but it was the sound of his voice that caught him most off guard…why? Had he been expecting to hear something different?

It was an odd question; he could tell the boy wasn’t expecting it. He paused. Then he scoffed,

“I’ll never be like you.” Then his voice grew quiet and dangerous, “But if I were in your place…I would run. As far away as I could, and as fast as I could, before I found out what the famous Harry Potter is capable of when you take something important from him.”

An even odder response.

The boy turned. One of his most defining features was the circular-rimmed, cracked glasses he wore. That, and the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, which was red and irritated. Seeing this scar, for some reason, made ire rise in Tom’s throat too. His glasses shielded eyes of a bright green which also heralded from a distant memory.

Bright, but dark. A green that pierced the veil of shadows, yet reflected the rest of the world. He wondered if he had ever seen such hatred in someone’s eyes before, in that past he didn’t remember. They burned as bright as the bird by his side, bright as the girl’s hair. They were bright enough to set the chamber ablaze, dark enough to enact the threats in all the room’s corners. Yet his name didn’t immediately come to mind.

Harry Potter. That was what he said his name was. Once said aloud, the name was more familiar than sensation itself; a burning scar upon his mind, never quite healed. The name was rage, and humiliation itself to him…though he couldn’t place the source of these emotions; no memories came to mind.

They were enemies.

Only two names he knew so far, and both sent the same sort of mad fury through him. Curious.

He couldn’t be more than twelve years old. Twelve years old was quite the young age to be defeating monsters, watching girls die, and to hold such hatred in one’s eyes. Very young to be so hated by he himself.

He was just a kid. Did this Harry Potter really deserve all this?

Why did they hate each other so much? Was it normal for him to hate twelve-year-old boys?

Come to think of it, how old was he himself? He sounded young, not much older than him. But he didn’t feel young.

Why did he hate him so much?

It was starting to look like Theory six(c) might be the most likely.

He didn’t take his advice. He didn’t know much about himself, but he didn’t think he was one to take people’s advice, especially not that of his enemies. In ignorant defiance he took a step forward.

“Stay back!” Harry Potter barked, as vicious as a loyal guard dog.

That same hatred he felt buzzed behind his words.

Another step.

He held up the sword.

“I’m warning you.” Tom knew the threat in his voice was very real.

Yet he came closer. Close enough to see the face of the girl.

He didn’t recognize her. Predictable, but aggravating. He had hoped that perhaps seeing her would bring him to his senses. Alas, she was just a dead girl.

He leaned in closer.

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!!” the boy’s words, along with the sword, were at his throat without a second to spare.

He simply flicked his gaze to him; no sign of shock or emotion at his outburst on his features.

The world must burn for this boy too. Burn, not because of sensation itself was strange, but because what he felt was currently was too much to bear.

Hatred, horror, heartbreak…hell. It all blazed and overflowed in his eyes.

He backed up one step, then another, and kept backing away until the sword was no longer close to his skin. Harry could have easily followed him, keeping the threat alive, but it seemed staying by the girl, protecting her lifeless body was his highest priority—Why? What could he possibly do now that she was dead? Was he prone to mutilate dead girls? Was his touch repugnant enough on its own to warrant such violence?

The anger was still white-hot, but confusion was in the boys’ eyes too now.

Yes, six(c) seemed pretty likely.

So, how had he lost his memory? He himself didn’t seem hurt in the slightest physically, he didn’t even have so much as a spitting headache to tell him he’d knocked his head hard enough to lose his memory. It didn’t appear as though he and the boy had dueled, despite the indication they were opponents, and the sword in his hand. Nothing indicated how he could lose his memory, or why…or, come to think of it, why he was still alive.

If it was true he had killed her, that they were enemies, why hadn’t Harry killed him in his sleep? He surely had the chance, in the midst of all the wailing. Why didn’t he walk up to him, send that sword through him and be done with it? Why didn’t he fight him, run him through, now? Tom was clearly unarmed, and Harry was likely the one who killed the snake, clearly he had the upper hand, the power to do so. It all made too much sense.

He could tell he wanted to.

…The diary. It must be connected to everything. Would it reveal the truth of the situation, and his lost memories? Everything seemed to trace back to it. From the looks of things, it was the source of the scene…and it was the most confusing part of the scenario. If he started with it, perhaps he could get somewhere.

He sauntered back to it, crouched down and picked up the mangled cover, staring at the name, the holes where someone—presumably Harry—had stabbed it, a few blank pages hanging limply out of the binding. But why would he hurt an inanimate diary?

“Who’s Tom Riddle?” he asked.

[moontheoretist]

Notes from tie-in MCU comics:

Part 1:

[DISCLAIMER: I was making those notes without actually writing down from which comic they come from, so now I am... well... confused about the proper placement of them, but I tried to discern them anyway.]

CAPTAIN AMERICA THE FIRST AVENGER:

Lol, Zola was developing exo-skeleton looking like Iron Man suit and Vanko's suit in 1934. I kind of think part of Steve's dislike of Iron Man was because of that exo-suit. Also, Steve just saved the guy in a suit.

"The chain is only as strong as its weakest link" said twice to Steve, once by military doctor and second by Schmidt.

Poor Erskine, his family was taken as hostages.

Howards says "carefully open the casing". Steve does smash instead.

Oh no, Red Skull said that weapon can always be taken from you so you have to become the weapon. It echoes the sentiment behind the creation of Iron Man too closely.

Lol, Roosevelt ASKED for Howard PERSONALLY.

"Car is bulletproof!" "and a convertible!" is a funny joke xD

Lol he has bulletproof car because of cigarette's girls angry boyfriends.

Ok, so Howard joined SSR because he HAD BEST FUN IN MONTHS.

Howard has rockets in car and "leaves best toys for himself".

First Steve saves a Nazi from a tank, now he obliterates them with said tank. Pick a side, Steve. I know guy in the armor was helpless, but c'mon. You either don't kill or kill. You cannot just willy nilly choose. BTW does it echo saving Iron Man or smth?

Call back to floating car by a joke about floating tank.

Aw, no, Erskine's family died in concentration camp from typhus. (Those camps were awful, but are not shown in the comics. You better believe that they weren’t very nice places to live even without being overworked and killed by the Nazis).

Oh no, Bucky was nearly killed by SSman! But Howling Commandos stopped him.

Bucky doesn't like his name lol. Also no Jimmy nickname for this guy.

Ok so Howard Stark was based on Hughes and Tony was based on someone Howard hated - Oppenheimer.

Ok, now Phillips made a foreshadowing for Cradle in the AoU. It even looks similar to Project Rebirth.

Oho my theory that Erskine heard Bucky talk to Steve and that doctor knew Steve lied is proved in this comics. They knew, they had a file on him and Erskine just picked him, saving his stupid ass from consequences.

Cap just threw a knife.

IRON MAN 2:

In the comics it looks more as if Obadiah sold Vanko instead of Howard, because Howard looks so surprised at what Vanko did, that it is impossible to assume that he was the one who sent the agents after Vanko. He looks surprised at the whole incident, Vanko betraying him and agents being there to apprehend him. One agent acts as if it was Howard's idea all along, but that line could be also read as just informing a bystander that they will deal with the issue instead.

Tony projected a drone which could clean whole desert full of mines with 100% accuracy and 0% detonation.

Also comics confirm that Tony cannot even have 12h break without Howard coming at him and demanding him to work when he is just a goddamn teenager.

Tony was just fighting for 19h, got a shower and has to go out again.

"If I hear of another innocent being put in a harm's way just to advance some pointless military agenda... there will be consequences" sounds like call back to Hulk.

Hm, Tony made 12 people work on one job? Also Natasha hates being called Nat and she drugged Samantha (the actual PA which applied for Stark Industries) to take her place.

 [As of now those comics confirmed to me that Captain America joined army out of selfish reasons and that Tony was overworking himself as Iron Man and when he wasn't he was either partying, probably to relax in that way, or making new tech which saves lives.]

Lol, Coulson was so excited to look for Captain. Nick even made a joke about finding his fav action figure.

Lol, World Security Council wanted to get Tony's weapons and nearly fired Fury for trying to make Avengers.

Fury is like Tony. He hates his superiors. He will do as they say but won't stop doing what he does.

Lol, Fury got a call Tony will be dead and he jumped out of his goddamn bed asap.

Fury was actively stopping Stern from getting Iron Man by scheduling his meeting with Department of Defense "when Stern is busy" xD

Lol Fury says no to Ross before he hears what he wants. This is so funny.

Ok, so Fury got Lithium Dioxide for Tony, asked if it could be made into permanent cure, how sweet of him, but also learned that it could INSTANTLY KILL HIM instead and still made Natasha basically inject Tony with it WITHOUT CONSENT! So I dunno if he really cared about him when he asked about permanent cure or it was just more optimal for his plans. Also he got the cure during Tony's and Rhodey's battle at the mansion, so we cannot say he had a cure and didn't give it right away when he could.

"Don't blow your cover unless Stark is going to kill himself". Hm. So he wants him alive.

And yeah, he ordered Natasha to stick him with lithium dioxide when he distracted him.

Lol, Fury yelled at Coulson for letting Tony leave the mansion xD

THOR??? (I got lost in my notes, I didn’t write which comic was which)

LOL CLINT CANNOT EVEN TAKE VACATION. Also the speed with which he responded to possible alien crashsite, epic. He jumped and went as if it was Christmas, aww Clint.

Why Clint is giving money back to some store which suffered due to their operation? I mean it was nice and all, but who will give the money back to Clint? Fury?

So it was Hawkeye's idea to let Thor loose.

In the meantime Loki was on scene and tried to get Mjolnir but it didn't respond.

AVENGERS PRELUDE:

Oho, poor Fury, didn't sleep in a few days.

Oho, Fury yelled at Natasha.

"Do not let Ross take Banner, dead or alive". How cute of you, Nick, to confirm that you do not care.

Blonsky is suicidal. Going at Hulk and kicking him in the face? That's a death wish.

Ah so Blonsky is enhanced.

Hahaha, joke about lifting a hammer but applied to the Asgardian sentinel, lol.

Ross literally accessed SHIELD databases.

Natasha was raised in Stalingrad lol.

After seeing Hulk, Abomination and The Leader Natasha finally says it is too much to handle for SHIELD.

Oho, so making Tony finish Howard's project was an objective, not saving his life. He wanted it for Tesseract.

I dunno if he is lying or really was doing this whole shit for the Tesseract. Also points for sticking in WSC's face that Ross nearly destroyed New York thanks to them.

Shield has whiplash suit and it's arc reactor!

THEY ACTIVATED THE SENTINEL AND THEN THEY WANT TO DISMANTLE IT AND MAKE DOZENS SMALL ONES!

Huh, implication that Natasha may beat the whole bunker of SHIELD agents up, because they're men, lol.

So Selvig used the element Stark invented to kick-start the Tesseract after all.

"Good for a laugh from time to time" lol. Clint the comedian.

Why that machine holding a Tesseract looks like Arc Reactor?

Huh so Selvig was Loki and he made a comment about Tony being strange for "badassium".

BLACK WIDOW BACKGROUND IN ONE OF THE COMICS, DUNNO WHICH:

Natasha talks about her cover personalities like vtubers about their avatars.

Fjodorov knows something about stolen bootleg technology of Tony Stark which he managed to acquire?

Natasha really likes narrating her story. Time slows when you have a training? Like roller coaster on first ridge?

"With some small regret, I bid farewell to Tatiana. She's outlived her usefulness" thinks Natasha after she took off her wig and no longer plays Tatiana. "If she were real. She'd be dead". "It's nice though, to pretend while it lasts... that I was ever as innocent as her".

Natasha really likes playing those roles.

Haha, Natasha holds one mission over Coulson's head forever even though he never failed as her control again.

"Part of the reason why I am so good at the undercover work is that I actually like being other people. There is a lot I've done that I regret. When I leave that other identity behind, whether I slip out from underneath it voluntarily or it's ripped away from my grasp, it always hits me like a shock. Like being awakened from a deep sleep, back to who I really am". "It's good to be home". Is she speaking about her slip into Black Widow again as home or is she referring to Russia?

Natasha left a guy dangling from a building and said it could be worse, he could be naked.

"Good man" says Natasha as if she was training guys to obey her will.

Oho, Natasha is interested in someone who wants to be her.

Also she is narrating that police in Russia would not suspect Tatiana to be so resourceful.

Natasha wants to save that girl from herself, because nobody did that for her when she was in the same position.

I mean, Natasha killed some people that day already so I don't get the point of her not killing those guys and saying that she changed, when in the club she killed a few of the goons already and later too. Where is the point of her change if she kills anyway? What is this change about Black Widow - Natasha Romanoff if she kills people but just not always? She cannot claim to change for the better just because she didn't kill two goons. And Sofia should see that not killing all of them doesn't mean she doesn't kill at all. But I guess leaving so many alive still counts for Sofia as Natasha going soft.

Coulson, you idiot, I am happy you came to save Natasha, but Sofia thought those guys were Natasha's back up. It all wouldn't happen if not for you making them appear there. You fucked up everything for Natasha, Coulson.

Uh, Natasha has the same weird shtick Tony does. She blames herself for the decision of her superior? Yeah, she enabled him to make that decision, but it was still his decision to send those men to find Natasha, so their death is on him, not on Natasha.

Huh, so Natasha's model persona Konn feels empty when nobody looks at her, because her whole life was being the centre of attention? It's kind of sexist cover.

She is a hand model and this guy is disgusting. Natasha I agree with those YUCK.

Natasha doing tehee is so weird.

Also playing a "he sent me here so hours would fly by" is so gross, but inner Natasha voice says nothing yet.

Lol the guy just assumed she is stupid, because she made tehee sounds. Like, goddammit, men are so easy to fool. Condescending little creep indeed.

Ok, so Natasha doesn't have any computer knowledge to say what those lines of code are, but she knows Stark can.

Ugh, Natasha, that line about telling his friends that they did something he imagines is so not feminist of you. It just enables creeps like that to objectify women more and treat them like idiots and fucktoys.

Sofia killed the agent even when Natasha gave her what she wanted.

Natasha wants to save lives and often fails at it too.

She jumped off the yacht to save the guy even though she knew he is dead? I mean shot in the head usually means instant death.

She doesn't get lines of code but can upload tracking device on it. Good. Also she wanna kill Sofia now.

"When I go in for the kill, there's no one I'd rather be than who I really am".

Ah so they had a targeting software for the copy of the Jericho missile manufactured by Hammer.

So they were moving Jericho in parts around the world. They should be happy Tony didn't notice. (Because then they would all just go boom and be dead lol).

"Berserk bots a girl's best friends!"

Frampton wants to have space tourism.

Ten Rings again.

Why Frampton wants to strike Korean DMZ?

Aha, global destabilisation for Ten Rings, gotcha.

Oho, so the info about Natasha busting the trafficking ring comes back. It turns out she accidentally trapped the girls inside when she busted the place. She basically says she didn't know they were there but even if she did she wasn't nice back then.

So Natasha says that Sofia was more her than she ever was, meaning the Black Widow, meaning that Natasha always had softness in her which Sofia didn't have and that Sofia got her just reward for wanting to be the perfect Black Widow.

Still sexist move to make a victim of sex trafficking ring become a morally corrupt murderer who would destabilise world for free if she could, but does that for money, because money is nice addition to her new hobby of fucking humanity up.

"Some people are not worth saving" Not so long ago plenty would say that about me".

AVENGERS:

Oho Stark Tower is the first fully clean-energy powered skyscraper.

Pepper thinks inside the box and Tony thinks outside the box.

Oh, so Tony still says that Rhodey had stolen the suit, but then he admits that it could give him heart attack, because it was not calibrated for him, so I wonder if he really wanted Rhodey to have it or never wanted Rhodey to have it at all.

"I got them to agree that all starktech remains proprietary to you as long as War Machine is on loan to the department of defense".

Lol wow, War Machine was an insult? Anyway he means that Rhodey won't be using Mark II because Tony has new suit for him.

"I am not Iron Man" people yell Iron Man at Rhodey "Ah, forget it" xD

How is Tony saying that he couldn't find anything to go after Gulmira when he was literally busting Ten Rings in Iron Man 2 tie-in comic?

Hahaha, Rhodey wanna get a publicist so people would recognise he is War Machine, not Iron Man.

Rhodey is so vicious. "I could have taken your hand with it but not doing it is more fun".

Oho so Tony THREE MONTHS after Tony was putting S on Stark Tower there is Battle of New York and Rhodey is in Hong Kong.

Incoming call: Martini, seriously? You call Tony MARTINI?

Also for some reason this Tony has blue eyes.

Rhodey is so cocky lol. "I haven't seen anything that can take me down".

"When am i gonna learn to keep my mouth shut?" xDDD Rhodey cursed himself.

So after Iron Man 2 Tony realised that he couldn't be iron solder alone anymore and made Rhodey an armor? Still, trust was a huge factor here.

Lol did he just make a joke about being so beat up as after clubbing with Tony to a commanding officer? Rhodey, you vicious little shit lol xD

"Battle tank that's about to make me street pizza! But only if I stand and take it, which I have never done in my life". That's useful info. It gives me some insight into who was protecting who at MIT. Rhodey never was taking a crap of other people, so he probably was used to fighting bullies. And I can imagine him standing up to bullies who targeted a kid - Tony Stark.

Rhodey chooses to fight smarts with smarts.

DID HE JUST MAKE HIS WAY OF LANDING A FRIGGIN MISSILE STYLE? XD

His commander asks if he is crazy. He definitely friggin is lol.

Rhodey just gave his superior a scare when he let a tank run him over. They thought he died.

OMG Ten Rings assumed War Machine is easier target to get tech from and Rhodey feels offended, but happy they know who he is.

Rings had stark tech in that tank, oh no. Tony will be pissed even if those are old black market stuff.

AWWW RHODEY WAS WORRIED ABOUT TONY WHEN HE DIDN'T RESPOND!

"Don't do this to me, man". "Holy...! That was SOME situation" says Rhodey when he saw chitauri flying whale dead. Ok so Avengers met Rhodey in that shawarma place.

Pepper decorates according to feng shui?

So Ten Rings scanned Rhodey's armor with any scanner available and collected a lot of data on the armor anyway.

[vergi1ius]

Notes on Rhythm of War

Well that had more twists and turns than the chasms of the Shattered Plains.

1. Minor note that bugged me: Gavinor talked *way* too mature for his age. Mostly in that his sentence structures were way too complex.

2. I can’t believe Sanderson managed to somehow redeem Roshone. Dude really stepped up in a crisis -- not in a way that made him suddenly perfect, but in a way that demonstrated he was clearly growing toward something better.

3. New Shard names yay

4. Fascinated by all these new Lights. I’m not quite sure where Lifelight is supposed to come from, nor Voidlight. A comment from Venli seems to say Voidlight comes from a ritual prayer, which seems to imply it’s directly bestowed by Odium, which has... implications.

5. That Raboniel thought Storm and Void Light were opposites for so long seems odd to me. Where did Lifelight fit into that? On the one hand, it seems so rare that she might have passed over it; on the other hand, given she obtains some for Navani (from where, though?) and she’s aware of its Tone, clearly it must feature somewhere in her theories.

6. I wonder precisely when Odium integrated so much into Roshar. My first guess would be around the time of the Recreance, given that’s when the Sibling is first weakened. My other guess would be when Odium first arrived, or when the Singers accepted him, though that seems rather too early. But most likely it was something building up for a long, long time.

7. While Raboniel and Navani see the implications in anti-Lights for ending the war, I think Wit foresees something terrible from this creation (as per his discussion with Jasnah on the battlefield). In particular, the explosive force of combining a Light and its anti-Light is very likely to change the scope of warfare.

8. Wit is hilarious and I will quote everything he says.

9. Ace Jasnah confirmed. (I might have prefered aroace Jasnah, but whatevs)

10. FUCK YOU MOASH YOU BASTARD.

11. RIP Teft. I’m seriously gonna miss him.

12. I love that Kaladin’s Plate has Bridge Four on it.

13. “Journey before destination, you bastard.” This book has so many good one-liners.

14. Interesting that Urithiru’s defenses don’t work on the Honorblades. Also, Moash survives again >:( At least 1) He didn’t get out in one piece and 2) The new management deals with him differently.

15. After hearing Ash’s account of Ishar, it probably shouldn’t surprise me all the shit he’s gotten up to. Perhaps one could hope that between leading the exodus to Roshar, creating the Oathpact, and leading the defense in the Desolations, he might have become a better person: but it rather seems he’s retained some of his greatest moral weaknesses or else reverted to some earlier state of mind. Given hints from Dalinar, though, there may very well be something else at play.

16. Holy shit a Herald can fight.

17. Being able to manipulate Connections is rather terrifying. But I still feel like we’re only seeing the tip of the iceberg as to what Ishar (and other surges) can do.

18. It seems clear to me that Ishar is bringing radiant spren into the Physical Realm by essentially rewiring their Connection to the Physical Realm, so that they essentially *become* Physical. Thus why those whose bodies are already more realistic survive better, and why spren like Cryptics come out looking so different: in particular, translating a Cryptic’s head into something physically possible is just too difficult.

19. That being said, while I’m fairly confident on *how*, I’m still not sure on *why*. I suspect he might be trying to either 1) force bonds with spren (though why not just adjust the Connection on a spren I don’t know) 2) find a way to kill sprens or spren-like beings (such as the Fused) 3) somehow extract surge powers. But Ishar does seem to be interested in how long he can keep them alive.

20. Wow. A line I’d thought was just a throwaway lie in WoR coming back in a terrifying way. It does make me wonder whether that was a (unintentially true) falsehood from Taravangian, or if he was actually being honest.

21. Also holy shit Cultivation. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the sheer amount of planning this must have taken her.

22. Like, seriously, the amount of planning to ensure that everything’s in place at a specific day and a specific moment, is just kinda staggering. I may have to do another post just to figure out all the pieces that Cultivation had to have in use at once.

23. That being said, that Taravangian 1) took up the same name (and therefore Intent) as Rayse and 2) hasn’t apparently changed Odium’s game plan at all leaves me very, very worried. On the one hand, Taravangian seems to be much craftier than Rayse (possibly in part because he’s new to the role, though that may be a double-edged sword); on the other hand, Taravangian’s goals seem to be different than Rayse’s (I don’t think “galactic conquest” is what most people have in mind when they say “save them all”, but props for at least having the good of those he conquers in mind rather than his own ambitions). I also suspect that Taravangian would be willing to absorb the other Shards, or even leave them alive if they will cooperate with him (or if he can’t absorb them and can find a cooperative Vessel).

24. Given that Taravangian is going through all the same motions as Rayse, I’m a little curious as to what Cultivation is doing and what she thinks of this. Though perhaps now that Rayse is dead she doesn’t feel the need to intervene in the war (given how little the other Shards seem to involve themselves in the international politics on their worlds).

25. YES Adolin x Maya!!!

26. That the Radiants of the Recreance discussed things with their spren, and that the spren agreed to their plan, seems like something we really should have seen coming. I’m a little less surprised about in universe, given that 1) most humans didn’t understand the nature of the Nahel bond and 2) none of the spren bonded were able to explain their reasoning. Or that none of those involved actually knew what they were getting into by breaking their oaths (or, perhaps as they thought they were doing, *ending* their oaths).

27. Over 2000 honorspren. That’s a full level of magnitude more than what we’d been led to believe had been killed from previous books. It makes me wonder 1) what happened to the spren of those who hadn’t reached the level for a blade yet and 2) *where are all those blades*?

28. I’ve been kinda wondering this about honorium, but where does one find raysium, and what about tanavast-ium and cultivation-ium? And how exactly do all three work / interact with the world?

[feadae]

So I got a Secret Encounter(TM) at my last D&D session

And as I record my D&D sessions and take notes obsessively, I had everything I needed to write my Secret Encounter in prose form with the dialogue the DM & I actually said, as well as his descriptions, with Bonus My Character’s Inner Monologue. And lowkey I’m kinda proud of it? I’ve been meaning to get back into writing for a long time now, and this bit reads kind of flat and technical to me, but I’m getting back into it, and I had fun!

Context and the actual writing under the cut

Context: My character is a Tiefling Bard named Melaena Eukleides, who grew up in a small town full of humans and halflings. She has a 3-year-old son named Remembrance, born out of wedlock with a Drow called Una Mentira who wooed her, took her to bed, and left, and when Remy was born her parents agreed to take care of him once he was weaned but forbade her from seeing him again. She discovered several months later (during our campaign) that Una Mentira isn’t Una Mentira; he’s a mob boss in Waterdeep (Jarlaxle Baenre, for anyone who’s played Waterdeep: Dragon Heist). After we finished WDH, we moved into homebrew territory where we are now, and he’s kidnapped their kid, so the party is on a rescue mission. We passed through Mel’s hometown on the way to find a ship to follow Jarlaxle, so Mel decided to drop by her parents’ house and ask if they knew anything about where he had gone or at least why he had taken their kid.  When I told the DM that Mel was going to do that, he asked the rest of the party to leave the room, and my heart rate skyrocketed. Without further ado, this is what ensued.

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Mel watches her allies’ retreating backs, then takes a deep breath and runs to the house where she grew up. She runs inside and...the house is abandoned. There’s no one there; in fact, most of the furniture is gone.

“Mother? Father?” No answer. Mel goes to her parents’ room and looks around. Everything’s gone. It doesn’t look like there was a struggle, nor does it seem so in the front room. She finds a note on the ground in the front room. It’s addressed to Mel.

Melaena-- He gave us all we ever needed in life--gold... We had to give him to him. I know that you may never forgive us for what we’ve done, and we can’t blame you for that. But when we came to this land, we wanted something better for ourselves, something better for you. Don’t try to find us. You’re no longer our daughter.

It’s signed by both of Mel’s parents.

Mel stands in shock, staring at the note shaking like a leaf in her trembling hand and willing herself not to cry. Her parents essentially disowned her when Remy was born; this isn’t a huge change. But it is. It didn’t even cross her mind that they would leave voluntarily and leave behind only a note saying she’s not their daughter anymore. She’s had many an intrusive thought, worrying that she’d find them dead in the front room, killed by Una--Jarlaxle--in order to kidnap Remembrance. Or that they’d be there alive, saying they did everything they could to defend their grandson, but Una was too powerful. It even occurred to Mel that they might have given Remembrance up willingly, but she dismissed that thought almost immediately. Finding out that they gave him up for gold and didn’t even have the decency to stick around and explain themselves in person is just...too much.

Mel is jolted out of her stupor by a knock at the door. She folds the note up, jamming it in her pocket, and draws her rapier as she opens the door. It opens on a human man with curly red hair poking out from under a wide-brimmed hat.

“Uh, excuse me, um...Do you own this house?”

Mel peers at him, racking her brains as she sheathes her rapier, but doesn’t recognize him. She hesitates.

“I--I live here. What happened?”

“Oh, well, I was just interested why you walked in; it’s been for sale for some time. The original owners, they recently left. If I remember correctly, they were heading...north, I guess?”

Mel processes this and decides to deal with it later, though she knows she doesn’t want to try too hard to find the people who abandoned her and her son. Still, out of habitual politeness, she says, “Thank you.”

The man looks around Mel at the empty house she stands in. “Mind if I come in?”

There’s a second where Mel wants to tell him, No, get away from my house and leave me alone, but there’s really no reason to; everything she remembers is gone, as is everything she loves. Is it really hers? She spreads her arms wide as if to say, Fuck it, come on in. The man says, “Thank you,” and makes his way in.

Mel stands at the threshold, trying to decide whether to rip the thorn out and leave now or stick around and investigate more--maybe ask this man if he saw Una and his men leaving with Remembrance--but before she can make a decision, the door closes on its own. Instinctually, Mel whips around to face the man, drawing both her blades as she does so, half-expecting the familiar Drow visage of Una Mentira to stand where he stood. But it’s not Una. It’s Gilgamesh, the Arch-Fey who posed as Xoblob the Waterdevian shopkeep and killed Asha for fun in exchange for the eyestalk of his taxidermized Beholder. That seems like lifetimes ago now, rather than months. What is he doing in Sintas? What is he doing in Mel’s childhood home?

He turns to Mel and says, “I can’t lie; I’ve been watching you in your travels for some time, and...you don’t need those.” He nods at Mel’s weapons, both still drawn and ready. “I don’t mean any harm.” Mel keeps her eyes trained on him and slowly, silently straightens from the defensive stance she’d taken, putting her swords back in their sheaths. He seems to take the silence as an indication to keep speaking. “So, this is your house,” he says, giving the front room a polite yet cursory glance. Mel nods. It feels strange enough that she’s here without anything that made it home when she was a girl, and stranger still that she’s here talking to an Arch-Fey, of all things. It doesn’t feel right.

“Looks spacious. Fun,” Gilgamesh continues, voice light. This time, Mel manages a small “Mm-hm.” Images flash in her mind of the countless hours she spent as a girl reading, writing, playing make-believe with herself, practicing violin, in this house which now stands empty and lifeless, looking as barren and pathetic as she feels. As if reading her mind, Gilgamesh comments, “A little bit--empty.”

Mel’s heart is heavy as she replies, barely managing a whisper, “Seems so.”

The Arch-Fey peers at her, not unkindly. “I don’t mean to poke fun at you or jest,” he says, sounding almost sad. “That’s not my plan here.”

“What is it?” Mel croaks, only half-caring about the answer.

Gilgamesh looks even more closely at her, not moving from where he stands. “I see pain in your eyes. This is loss--loss that...” He trails off into thought, and as Mel looks at him, there’s a moment where the high, otherworldly status he naturally exudes seems to diminish into something closer to a mortal one. He continues, “I know that. It’s not easy. And it doesn’t get easier.” Mel nods. She’s not a stranger to loss, however new it feels now and however much she wishes she were; she knows this already. But Gilgamesh isn’t done speaking.

“But I can make it easier.” Gilgamesh holds out his hand, and standing on his palm is a small, humanoid sprite which comes to life and looks at Mel with understanding in its eyes. Gilgamesh says, “Be mine, and I can make this pain go away. I see the pain you feel. I offer you something that...unfortunately, I hate to say, your songs and tricks cannot help you with.”

Mel had walked a bit closer despite herself to get a better look at the little sprite, but at the words “Be mine,” she reflexively stumbles back and folds her arms to conceal the fact that her hands are shaking. Una had called her his. Sometimes his something--his darling, his little pirate, his songbird--but always his. The idea of belonging once again to a man about whom she knows nothing save that he is much more powerful than she turns Mel’s blood to ice. She wants desperately to feel something other than this painful loss that feels like the heaviest nothing inside her heart, but the more she thinks about the bargain, the less it sounds like a good idea.

“When you say ‘be yours...’” Mel begins suspiciously, letting it trail off. “What do you mean?”

Gilgamesh seems to know once again what she’s thinking, because he replies, “Not like that.” He searches for the right words, then starts again. “Be my...protégé. My eyes and ears through this...desolate land. You’d lose some of your abilities, of course. You’d...change a bit. But it might be for the best,” he finishes as he fixes on Mel’s eyes a gaze that carries a note of something darker than the consolation he’s offered thus far. The sprite flutters out of Gilgamesh’s hand and zips closer to Mel, hovering in front of her face like a hummingbird. It looks at her with those eyes of understanding, and a small smile comes across its face, a smile that seems to say, Come with me and everything will be all right. As Mel looks back into this small creature’s face, unsure whether she wants to change who she is and work for this strange man--this entity--Gilgamesh’s voice cuts through her contemplation.

“Your choice.” After a moment, he adds with a tremor in his voice, “And I’m so tired of being alone.” Mel shifts her eyes from the sprite to its master. He still stands in that almost mortal stature, and she sees the weight of hundreds, probably thousands, of years of loneliness in his face and on his shoulders. A small voice in the back of her head tells her, He said it that way on purpose; he’s manipulating you, but still. Her instinct is to go to him, to assure him he won’t be alone--and had he made this offer at any time but this, she might have done it. But her parents’ note, telling her that they sold her son to Una Mentira and that after all their years of loving her and all her years of loving them she is no longer their daughter, seems to be burning a hole in her pocket much like the hole it’s burnt in her heart. And all she can think of is herself, and how she needs to protect herself from the trap of trusting anyone, because what has it gotten her? Her first heartbreak, her first (and now second) betrayal, countless sticks and stones and curses hurled at her from the day she learned to walk, a son born out of wedlock to a world that has already given him more danger and fear in his three short years than most people see in a lifetime, rejection from the only two people she’d thought she could trust, and expulsion from the only place she has ever felt safe. Not to mention the scores of times it’s almost gotten her killed. She should have learnt this lesson four years ago when Una Mentira vanished with only one trace, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. She’s learnt it now.

After what feels like aeons, Mel gathers the courage to speak, though not to look directly at Gilgamesh. Her eyes dart away from his face as she says, “I’m sorry. But...I’ve belonged to someone before.” She steels herself and looks directly into his eyes again. “And I’d rather deal with the pain.”

The Arch-Fey’s eyes harden and his expression goes stony. The sprite, still hovering in front of Mel, glares at her then flies back into Gilgamesh’s palm. He closes his hand into a fist, and the resulting crunch makes Mel wince. He opens his hand again, and there’s nothing there.

“I would say you made the wrong decision, but...” His mouth tightens into a thin line as he shakes his head and shrugs almost imperceptibly. “It’s your decision.” He snaps his fingers and disappears with a soft, swift whoosh.

He’s not gone for three seconds before Mel hears his voice in her head. “I was trying to hide this from you.”

Mel blinks, and when she opens her eyes, the house--her childhood home--is gone. She’s standing in a torn-down, demolished pile of rubble on an abandoned lot. No more house is there. She blinks harder, faster, and rifles through her pocket, pulling out the note. It’s as solid in her hand as it was before; it wasn’t an illusion. Everything else...not so. As Mel looks around, there are no thoughts in her head; only the heaviest emptiness she’s ever felt. In her head and in her heart, there is nothing but pressing pain and searing loss. Her legs go weak, and when they fail and she falls to her knees, she makes no attempt to stay standing. The tears come hot and fast before she can think to stop them, and she couldn’t stop them even if she wanted to.

And for the first time, the thing she wished all her childhood is true: no one in Sintas pays attention to her. She is invisible, kneeling in a pile of rubble, sobbing among the fractured remains of all she’s known.

[sienna27]

TWD Spoilers - Some Guy (8x04)

You know the drill, and again we are mostly in bullet form :)  

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They sucked me back in tonight, because God damn the show was GOOD!   Genuinely, good.  Not just parts of it :) 

The opening where E walks in to wash his face, and fix his dreads, I was really hoping that was going to be a backstory scene from like 1992 where he just always dressed like that 😂

But seriously, watching him pull himself together and seeing that he KNOWS he’s playing the part of the King, and how important it is that he plays it well, was an important scene.  Especially obviously for what came later when he just fell apart.

Having already seen that Lady Kingdom fighter get mowed down last seek, watching her in the flashback tucking her son’s flowers into her armor was heartbreaking.  Khary’s comments on Talking Dead about how he didn’t want to call the Kingdom subjects ‘extras’ because they really COMMITTED to making this community seem real, was dead on.  Making these deaths a genuine tragedy, was a joint effort.

I allowed E one more big speech to open because, well, he won’t be ra ra’ing for awhile yet after this one.  And that was a beautiful cut of them all huddled together with fists raised at the Kingdom, and then the pile of bloodied bodies in the field. I’ve said before, props to TPTB when they do things well, and that was so good.

Jeffrey Dahmer took E hostage.  That was just embarrassing Your Majesty.  That guy was good actor though because you really did just want to punch him over and over in his smarmy little face.  Especially when he was painting the blood on E’s face.  That was genuinely humiliating, but then Jerry came through in the clutch!  Though bummer his battleaxe got destroyed on its first big outing! :(

Carol.  Perfect.  Again, saves herself, but the day too.  But what's so awesome about Carol is that she isn't just 'kickass,' she lives because she's SMART!  It sounds corny yes, but her brain has always been shown to be her best weapon, and that makes her more of a heroic character than if she just mindlessly killed the bad guys.  When she was trapped in the little room you’re thinking, ‘okay so she’ll maybe pop up and take them by surprise or maybe she stays low and takes them out at the knees,’ nope.  Climbs into the ceiling, waits until they’re lined up like pretty maidens all in a row . . . mows them down with not one wasted bullet.  Then jumps down and two quick shots to finish them off.  Who else but Carol would have played that moment, that way?  Nobody.  Because then again, trapped out in the parking lot and you can see she strategized herself ALIVE!    Watching her eyes taking in everything around her like ‘what can I use, what can I use, what can I use,’ THIS is the kind of female character that we should have everywhere.  Someone who knows how to save herself.

The flashback scene with E and Carol when she’s trying to figure out if he’s even up to this, and he asks if she had decided to be brave or if she just always was, and she says, “I decided, just like you . .  but life decided some things too.”  Really good stuff.  Hearkening back to Sophia’s loss and all the choices she had to make at the prison, and how she’s had to kill so many people to save so few, without her actually sharing any of her past.   She was right to question him though about his readiness because he really wasn’t ready.  I don’t necessarily ‘blame’ him for all of those deaths (that was a TD question and most people didn’t) but Carol didn’t die with the rest of them because she wasn’t standing there WITH them.  She said we need to go check those building, because WHY THE FUCK WOULDN’T YOU CHECK THE BUILDINGS?!   It was a huge compound, and you were all standing out in the open, because E was like ‘yeah, we got here, we did it,’ even though last episode he was the one who mentioned that there was probably another portion of that Savior garrison out there.  Dude, did you forget?!  Again not that he fucked up, but just that he’s not battle tested.  He’s not a field guy.  He’s the figurehead to keep everyone’s spirits up.  Or at least he was.  He’s kind of broken right now :(

Also, side note, the only reason they’d killed so many of that Savior garrison to start, was because Carol came up with the plan to prevent their group from being slaughtered out in the woods.  So yet another HUGE swath of people who only lived as long as they did, because of her.

Couldn’t watch Shiva die.  I had to look away because I can’t even watch CGI cats be slaughtered.  Same with every horse that’s ever been on the show.  And then poor Tabitha.  #RIP

Quote from E:  “I’m not your king, I’m just some guy.”  Khary was AMAZING tonight.  Like out of the park, amazing.  It was definitely his episode and he carried it.  This is the thing about expanding their universe, some elements do work.  The Kingdom works.  When it’s a Kingdom episode I’m not getting distracted, going on twitter or futzing around on Tumblr, I am WATCHING the show.  They honestly should have won an Emmy for the melon episode last season, and the only main cast member with any real airtime in that one was Lennie.  But watching things happen in The Kingdom I’m not missing (as much) other cast members who aren’t getting their airtime.  Or at least I’m not pissed about it like an Oceanside (wasting my time) or the weeks when it’s a Hilltop focused episode and it honest to God just feels like I’m mostly watching filler.  There’s nobody (NOBODY, yes I mean “him” too) in that group where I give a crap whether they live or die.  I feel no connection to any of those characters.   It’s weird how little they resonate with me and I don’t know why that is, because if it was truly just the ‘annoyance’ that so and so isn’t on the screen and these people are, hey I could feel that all the way through The Kingdom episodes too . . . but I don’t.  I just want Maggie to move back home to Alexandria and hell she can run the place if she wants because Rick said he’s cool with that, but whatever, I just need the little Amish community to fade off.  And I understand that the Kingdom fighters being slaughtered was important for E’s character growth, and that there needed to be this major setback to show that this won’t be an easy war to win, but I’m honestly more bummed that this means the Hilltop people CAN’T die!  They can’t go away for awhile yet because if they do, then we’ll be out of fighters and we lose the war.  So now I have to resign myself to them getting more airtime.  It’s the only negative I’ll give this episode :)

Yes to the Rickyl!  It was almost a cameo of the guys, but they made the most of it.  Kind of like carrying the baton on from Carol’s last scene.

Off topic from the episode itself, it is cool that two of the commercials they ran tonight were for Jon Bernthal and Sarah Wayne Callie’s current projects.  It’s smart marketing for those other shows to come back to their built in audience that CATAPULTED them out into a higher plane in the business.

Finally to the Caryl!  Carol smiling when she hears the motorcycle 💕  I was hoping with our five full minutes of show time left that we could have had another reunion hug (the guys pick up the guns, head back to see what all the gunfire was about at the compound was a way to go) but no, we just got the roar of the engine, and Carol’s happiness at knowing her man was still alive, and about to save the day :)  Once more, please note the JOYOUSNESS of that smile, just for hearing his BIKE, versus the one that E got live and in person, last week.  No contest, kids, no contest ✌️😊

Until next time!

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[preservationandruin]

Words of Radiance Part Four Part Two

Alright, let’s keep this moving!

Kaladin Is Still In Prison, Adolin Was Also In Prison, Kaladin gets out of prison and makes a bad decision, I yell at Amaram a lot, Wit also yells at Amaram, Dalinar’s visions are leaked to the public, Shallan and Kaladin go on a Chasms Road Trip, Shallan remembers a fateful day, I yell at Amaram more, and Dalinar is ready for his big trip. 

WARNING: Shallan’s flashback includes physical and emotional abuse, as well as attempted and successful murder. 

Kaladin is still in prison. He’s noting that his thoughts are starting to distort the truth--again, That Mentally Ill Feel. He knows Dalinar will get him out, he believes Dalinar will get him out--but his mind twists it until he starts thinking Dalinar might have lied. He also starts beating himself up for being a bad guard, despite having gone toe-to-toe with the Assassin in White and lived, driving him off. 

He thinks bridge four is happy to be rid of him oh my god that is the most painful sentence I have ever read. 

Fortunately, he’s being let out. He promises that nobody will ever do this to him again, regardless of station. Aaaaaaand he runs into Adolin. Who is also in a cell. Because of course. And not only did Adolin lock himself up, he ordered that Bridge Four be there when Kaladin was released. 

Adolin Kholin is a good man. 

“Didn’t seem right, you in here,” Adolin said, eyes forward.  “I ruined your chance to duel Sadeas.”  “I’d be crippled or dead without you,” Adolin said. “So I wouldn’t have had the chance to fight Sadeas anyway.” The prince stopped in the hallway and looked at Kaladin. “Besides. You saved Renarin.”  “It’s my job,” Kaladin said. “Then we need to pay you more, bridgeboy. Because I don’t know if I’ve ever met another man who would jump, unarmored, into a fight among six Shardbearers.” 

And then they start bonding over Kaladin being incredulous about Adolin’s cologne and Adolin being mock-offended and even making fun of himself, and Adolin apologizing for ruining the plan, and Adolin pointing out that technically, Elhokar ruined it. 

Adolin also wholeheartedly believes Kaladin about Amaram--points out that you never hear about Amaram doing anything wrong, whereas even Dalinar--the best man Adolin knows--makes mistakes, loses his temper, and has a checkered history. Amaram doesn’t, which is pretty fucking suspicious. 

Yet again, Adolin’s intuition is scarily sharp. Right about Sadeas, right about Kaladin, right about Amaram. If he actually puts some more work into it, he could get really good at reading people. 

I love Adolin Kholin so much as a character like yeah, he can be a fuckup, but he is a genuinely good person. 

Also Bridge Four in unison salutes the moment that they see Kaladin and then just start cheering. Renarin is there in uniform, stimming but cheerfully talking with Adolin; Rock makes fun of Kaladin’s new beard. 

BRIDGE FOUR IS BACK TOGETHER. 

Also Adolin now apparently owns two shardblades and three sets of plate, the Kholin family owns a quarter of the Shards in all of Alethkar (actually more if Shallan marries into the family and I also know they’re not counting Jasnah, even though Ivory can become a Shardblade) and also Adolin is dueling champion now, as well he should be. 

And Adolin offers the plate to Kaladin...who gives them to Moash. Kaladin is purposely testing Adolin and actually flinches as Adolin grabs his shoulder--to ask if he’s sure. 

Because Adolin, unlike Amaram, is ACTUALLY A DECENT FUCKING HUMAN BEING. Kaladin also makes the cryptic comment that he’d be more useful against the Assassin in White without Shards. 

Moash’s new shard has a heliodor in the pommel, as a note. I wonder if that’s why his eyes go tan--is it just a lightening of the original color of the person’s eyes, or is it correspondant to the color of the stone powering the Blade? Kaladin’s eyes going blue near the end there imply it’s the power of the Blade making the eyes turn, so it probably corresponds to color? Although that doesn’t answer for why Lighteyes’ eyes don’t change. 

Rambling aside, Rock decides this shardplate shit is taking way too long and that they should be having a party. GREAT CAPTAIN KALADIN, STORMBLESSED AND DWELLER IN PRISONS, YOU WILL EAT MY STEW NOW. 

God I love Bridge Four. 

Also they were debating whether or not to break Kaladin out I fucking love them so much. my BOYS. Also they’re all willing to kick the shit out of Amaram. Same. Absolute Same. 

Aaaand Kaladin says that Moash’s friends are right about Elhokar. KAL NO. 

Over to Dalinar. Dalinar also basically says Kaladin reminds him of him when he was younger--although I have to note that Kaladin had a more level head. Also Navani is being an Engineer and Dalinar is trying to follow along. Mixed success. Also, Navani has figured out that the gemstones in Shards are not what originally powered them. 

Navani is still mourning Jasnah. “What happened to my little girl, so full of questions?” Ouch. 

Navani Deserves Better. 

Also we get another implication that Navani didn’t really care for Gavilar. Something was up with their marriage. 

Anyway, Dalinar’s trying to convince people to join his attempt to do a massive attack against the Parshendi. He’s noted that the Parshendi have stopped trying to go after gemhearts--which would be because their tactics have drastically shifted in a way that the Alethi cannot possibly be prepared for.

Also, Wit’s back. And Sadeas is purposely undermining Dalinar because he’s a shithead. I fucking hate Sadeas. 

“You always assume it’s me,” Sadeas said.  “That’s because any time I think it isn’t you, I’m wrong.” 

Yeah, Sadeas, Dalinar isn’t going to be that easy to fool this time. Easy to stymie, though, because for all Dalinar’s skills he is shit at political intrigue.

AND SPEAKING OF PEOPLE I FUCKING HATE, AMARAM IS HERE!

“Why, Brightlord Amaram!” Wit cried. “I was hoping I’d be able to see you tonight. I’ve spent my life learning to make others feel miserable, and so it’s a true joy to meet someone so innately talented in that very skill as you are.”  [...] “Do I know you?” Amaram asked.  “No,” Wit said lightly, “but fortunately, you can add it to the list of many, many things of which you are ignorant.”  “But now I’ve met you,” Amaram said, holding out a hand. “So the list is one smaller.”  “Please,” Wit said, refusing the hand. “I wouldn’t want it to rub off on me.”  “It?”  “Whatever you’ve been using to make your hands look clean, Brightlord Amaram. It must be powerful stuff indeed.”  Dalinar hurried over.

THIS EXCHANGE ADDS FIVE YEARS TO MY LIFESPAN, CLEARS MY SKIN, CURES MY ANXIETY, AND REPLENISHES MY BANK ACCOUNT WIT DRAGGING AMARAM IS EVERYTHING I LOVE IN THIS WORLD.

Also how he fucking precision-hits things that Amaram would be insecure about--his knowledge, where we know he thinks he knows fucking everything and has an inflated sense of his own importance, and his image, where Wit is basically like bitch I see you and I know you’re fake as hell. 

And then Dalinar runs over to do damage control because he can’t have Amaram getting too suspicious yet, I imagine. Throughout the whole conversation, Wit keeps dissing Amaram and I remain the most alive I have been in months. 

“I mean, I wouldn’t want to call Amaram an imbecile...because then I’d have to explain to him what the word means, and I’m not certain any of us have the requisite time.” 

I know it’s petty but I’m petty and thus I take great joy in all of this. 

“Lord Amaram,” Wit called, standing to bow, his voice growing solemn. “I salute you. You are what lesser cretins like Sadeas can only aspire to be.” 

That one still gets me because it’s not even a jibe or a joke. It’s just a statement of fact and you can tell that Wit is dead-serious with that. Amaram also is like “lmao Dalinar I understand your visions better than you! The Almighty isn’t actually dead!!111!! he’s talking in metaphors u dingus!!11!!!!!!” 

Shut the fuck up Amaram, you know jack shit about Honor, don’t talk like you know Honor better than Dalinar. That’s just fucking laughable. 

He also refers to Kaladin only as “the slave.” And says he’d like to hear an apology from Kaladin. “Not for my own ego” Bull. Shit. 

Fucking asshole. 

Also Navani bitchslaps Wit with a handful of papers, and is furious that they edited the papers to make it seem like Navani is ridiculing Dalinar. She’s also ready to eviscerate whoever did this. RIP whoever the fuck leaked this. 

“As I fear not a child with a weapon he cannot lift, I will never fear the mind of a man who does not think.” 

Yeah it’s from the Way of Kings but in context it’s a sick-ass burn. 

So Dalinar just stands on a fucking table and is like “yeah these are the visions I’ve been having, come at me, you already made me a spectacle so honestly fuck you guys for thinking i’d actually be upset by this bullshit.” 

“If you must laugh, do it while looking me in the eyes.” 

Fuck yeah you tell ‘em dad. 

Also, Dalinar notes that Adolin seems very fond of Shallan, and Dalinar wants to encourage that--as long as he can get actual answers out of Jah Keved about her family. Which he won’t be able to because Jah Keved is a fucking mess. 

Dalinar asks if Wit is a Herald--he’s amused, but says no, and also denies being a Radiant. And we get Wit’s chilling line-- “If I have to watch this world crumble and burn to get what I need, I will do so. With tears, yes, but I would let it happen.” 

Also Wit basically says that he has to stop Odium from finding him in order to not die, basically. I still wonder about that WOB that says that Hoid and Rayse were once friends. That seems...quite interesting. 

Over to Kaladin. He’s still having problems inhaling Stormlight--he’s killing Syl, and with her the Nahel bond that gives him his powers. Kaladin you dingus. Syl is acting like a windspren again. 

“You want too much of me,” he snapped at her as he reached the other side of the chasm. “I’m not some glorious knight of ancient days. I’m a broken man. Do you hear me, Syl? I’m broken.”  She zipped up to him and whispered, “That’s what they all were, silly.” 

Bridge Four is still bringing their bridge on this scouting expedition, because Kaladin is a paranoid fuck (for good reason). Rock says that it’s gotten lighter because they defeated Sadeas. Nobody else understands him. 

Also, Renarin is starting to fit in with Bridge Four and joke around with them--and also that he hasn’t summoned his shardblade since the fight. 

For good reason, although neither Kaladin nor Dalinar knows that. Also, this: 

“Sir,” Kaladin said. “If I may say so, your son seems like kind of a misfit. Out of place. Awkward, alone.”  Dalinar nodded.  “Then, I can say with confidence that Bridge Four is probably the best place he could find himself.” 

I LOVE KALADIN’S RAGTAG BAND OF WEIRD MISFITS AND THAT THEY’RE ACCEPTING RENARIN AS ONE OF THEM. 

Also Adolin is now just occasionally making casual conversation with Kaladin. Kaladin also realizes that he’s made two conflicting oaths, and that’s why his powers are going away and Syl is losing sentience. She tells him to find the words, and soon. 

Shallan is geeking out over the bridge. Kaladin notices that he recognizes one of the carpenters, and is confused by it. Moash has stopped coming over for stew nights as often. 

Ouch. 

Kaladin points out that the plains are the worst place for Szeth to attack them, because they have three hundred archers with them and he just sorta. Flies. in the air. 

Adolin asks Kaladin for girl advice. Kaladin is like. my dude. you are asking the wrong person. Too busy trying not to die to date really. Kaladin is just like dude just tell her you really want this relationship to work also why the fuck are you asking me this. 

Also Adolin trying to be nonchalant about getting information about Kaladin. 

“You won’t have a Shardblade, but won’t need one, because of...you know.”  “I know?” Kaladin felt a spike of alarm.  “Yeah...you know.” Adolin glanced away and shrugged, as if trying to act nonchalant. “That thing.”  “What thing?”  “That thing...with the...um, stuff?” 

Kaladin actually manages to smile at how shitty Adolin is at this and just says “I don’t think you have any idea what you’re talking about” which is completely true. 

Also the conversation about how Adolin would pay to see Kaladin happy. That conversation is still lowkey gay and nobody can convince me otherwise. 

Neither of them get why Shallan is so excited about stuff like moss. And bugs. Adolin is trying to make jokes. Badly. 

“You’re good at military thinking, for a bridgeboy,” Adolin said. “Coincidentally,” Kaladin said, “you’re good at not being unobnoxious, for a prince.”  “Thanks,” Adolin said. “That was an insult, dear,” Shallan said. 

God I love all of these losers. 

Anyway, Shallan and Kaladin aren’t getting along well at all. High time for a bonding friendship trip into the caverns!!!! Kaladin notices, just at the right moment, that the man he recognized with the carpenters was one of Sadeas’ lumbermen. Of course, everything happens at once, and the bridge collapses--and down go Kaladin and Shallan. 

And Syl uses the last of their bond to save Kaladin. And the Stormfather fucking yells at him for killing Syl. Both Shallan and Kaladin assume they subconsciously saved the other. 

And so they try to survive. And also not kill each other. Kaladin points out that Shallan is complicit in the class inequality--which she really is, I mean, look at the boots scene--and Shallan responds with something like “oh wow big surprise people with power are abusive” which makes sense given her background but also is not the right response. 

He also does directly use the boots scene as proof she is complicit, which she admits. He also does say she’s better than most of the others. 

Aaaand then their shouting match attracts a chasmfiend and they have to bolt. BRILLIANT, GUYS. 

Also Kaladin notices that Shallan is incredibly unwinded from all this running--wow, I wonder if she’s infusing stormlight on instinct (the answer is yes). Shallan also uses her abilities to hide them and goes to try to see the chasmfiend. Kaladin notes that they look “wrong” and “almost intelligent;” Shallan notes that the spren that follow them also follow skyeels. 

I just had a bad thought. If Parshendi change when the everstorm comes, could the chasmfiends change too? If so, what the FUCK do they turn into? 

I hope I’m wrong. 

Shallan also calls Kaladin “Kaladin Longlegs.” Also she tries to throw some chull jerky at him when he’s not looking and he just catches it. 

Listen, when these two become friends, they will be the Best Sassfriends. 

And yeah, they have a sass contest, which actually amuses both of them. They’re good at it. 

God, I hope they end up as friends instead of part of some unholy twisted love triangle scenario. I fucking hate love triangles and i feel like it would only serve to drive everyone involved apart--which is awful, because I like having two male leads (Adolin and Kaladin) who actually get along half of the fucking time, and robbing me of that is just not fair, Brandon. 

Another powerfully sad moment of miscommunication: 

“All right,” Kaladin said. “Here it is. I can imagine how the world must appear to someone like you. Growing up pampered, with everything you want. To someone like you, life is wonderful and sunny and worth laughing over. That’s not your fault, and I shouldn’t blame you. You haven’t had to deal with pain or death like I have. Sorrow is not your companion.”  Silence. Shallan didn’t reply. How could she reply to that?  “What?” Kaladin finally asked.  “I’m trying to decide how to react,” Shallan said. “You see, you just said something very, very funny.”  “Then why aren’t you laughing?”  “Well, it isn’t that kind of funny.” 

They both understand so little about each other. They are seeing what they expect to see and not what’s underneath--which is two deeply broken people trying to move forward with their lives as best they can. 

Bridge Four is trying to figure out how Kaladin could have survived--Sigzil is grilling Teft about what he knows about the Radiants. Dalinar is trying to convince them not to keep watch for Kaladin, but good fucking luck with that. They’re Bridge Four. They know their captain. Dalinar is just like. You guys make sure you’re actually eating, right? 

He’s such a Dad. 

Anyway, Shallan is making a map, and Kaladin realizes how incredible her skill with drawing and memory is. Also, Shallan is talking to Pattern--and Kaladin realizes it’s like him talking to Syl. 

And Kaladin says that in a dream, he saw that the chasms were symmetrical--and Shallan realizes she can figure out where the parshendi are, and where the oathgate is. 

Shallan tries to point out that Kaladin can’t blame himself about everything. Kaladin immediately proves her wrong. And there’s another heartbreaking moment, this time of connection. 

“Oh, all people understand pain,” Kaladin said. “That’s not what I’m talking about. It’s...”  “The sorrow,” Shallan said softly, “of watching a life crumble? Of struggling to grab it and hold on, but feeling hope become stringy sinew and blood beneath your fingers as everything collapses?”  “Yes.”  “The sensation--it’s not sorrow, but something deeper--of being broken. Of being crushed so often, and so hatefully, that emotion becomes something you can only wish for. If only you could cry, because then you’d feel something. Instead, you feel nothing. Just...haze and smoke inside. Like you’re already dead.” He stopped in the chasm. She turned and looked to him. “The crushing guilt,” She said, “of being powerless. Of wishing they’d hurt you instead of those around you. Of screaming and scrambling and hating as those you love are ruined, popped like a boil. And you have to watch their joy seeping away while you can’t do anything. They break the ones you love, and not you. And you plead. Can’t you just beat me instead?”  “Yes, he whispered. Shallan nodded, holding his eyes. “Yes. It would be nice if nobody knew of those things, Kaladin Stormblessed. I agree. With everything I have.” 

God, that section rips my heart out. Shallan represses it, Kaladin has PTSD (well, they both probably do) and they both just wish they could have helped other people. 

These are good kids. 

And immediately they just start joking with each other. Aaand then the puns happen. And then a chasmfiend happens, and they get chased into a fissure. Kaladin wants to go chase it off so that they both can live, and Shallan panics at the thought of being left alone. And so she gives him her shardblade. 

Kaladin is like what the fuck. 

Also, the blade--which is Pattern--actually glows a garnet color. That’s because it’s alive. Also, it doesn’t scream--which Kaladin attributes to him having lost his bond with Syl, but that’s not right. And Kaladin also assumes two things in one sentence: 

“At least this told him one thing--Shallan wasn’t likely to be a Surgebinder. Otherwise, he suspected she’d hate this Blade as much as he did.” 

First, she is a Surgebinder.

Second, she does hate that Blade. 

Anyway, working together--with Pattern, Shallan’s illusions,and Kaladin’s fighting prowess--they kill a Chasmfiend. Also Kaladin’s leg gets Fucked Up. 

Kaladin ends up half in a chasmfiend’s mouth and the first thing he says is fucking ow. 

Anyway, they use the Blade to cut out a cubbyhole to weather the storm in. Shallan is having to train her mind not to blank at the mention or thought of the Shardblade--and she also can make it shrink. 

That’s not normal. 

Anyway, as Kaladin climbs into the cubbyhole and the stormwall hits, we get a Shallan flashback. She’s wearing her father’s necklace and a nice Vorin-style dress, and reporting that nobody has been able to find Helaran. 

For some reason, their father summoned Eylita to their house. This has got to be it--this is when Shallan kills her father to save Balat. Shallan finds Malise’s dead body--Father found out about the plan, sent for Eylita, and then murdered his own wife as a punishment. 

Shallan pours wine as her brother and father fight each other. This says a lot about how utterly Shallan had managed to subsume herself in other personas--she is outwardly calm even with this, with having seen a dead body of her own stepmother, with her brother and father trying to kill each other. 

And she pours wine and gives it to him. He drinks it, and then reaches for the poker--and severely injures Balat by slamming against his leg as Shalan screams. 

And as the rain pounds outside, her father starts to lose control of his fine motor skills. Shallan is cold--it’s her when she’s at rock-bottom. When she lost her mother, now, when she kills Tyn--when Shallan is at rock-bottom she is a stone-cold killer. 

Which is good, because it keeps her brothers and herself alive. 

But the poison only paralyzed him, and so--Shallan asks her brothers to finish the job, but none of them can. Jushu and Wikim back up. Balat isn’t conscious. So Shallan strangles him with the necklace he gave her, while singing the lullaby that he sung to her. 

Fuck, this scene is chilling and horrible. Shallan had to do it--her father would have murdered them all, one day, and probably only avoided her because he knew that she had a Shardblade and was scared--but god, that’s so brutal. 

Back to Kaladin. He gets in the cavern as Shallan uses her sphere to pull him up; they both see what looks like a screaming face in the storm. Kaladin sees something that looks like a giant, inhuman form glowing in the storm, completely alien, striding in it. 

Cool.

Anyway, Kaladin tells her his story--everything, including Amaram. Why not? They were about to die anyway. And she tells him that she killed her father, and about her own breaking; Kaladin realizes how lucky he was that his family loved him. 

Shallan was not that lucky. 

And Kaladin also realizes that he must have killed Helaran, which hurts. Anyway, Kaladin has a vision of the Stormfather in the storm and gets chewed the fuck out for killing Syl. 

Back to Dalinar. Amaram is trying to get him to make an agreement with Sadeas of some sort. Bull fucking shit. Shut the fuck up, Amaram. And then they get the message that Kaladin came out of the chasms. 

Dalinar runs the entire way there. 

He’s such a good dad. 

Aaaand he finds it hard to get through because so much of Bridge Four is already there. They know their Captain. And Kaladin fucking brought back the gemheart as well, of course. 

“Yeah, we took care of that for you, sir.” fuckin hell Kaladin. 

Shallan lies and says it was already dead, Kaladin agrees, Dalinar notes that Kaladin is a shit liar. 

And Navani has warmed up to Shallan enough to run over to her and mother hen her hardcore. I don’t think she wanted to lose another young scholar. 

Anyway, Dalinar asks if Kaladin was what he was looking for, and Kaladin denies it--he says he might have been, but not now. Dalinar also notes that Kaladin is a hero again. 

Also wow, looks like Amaram just vanished, what a surprise, looks like he can’t stand the sight of a certain slave being a hero, huge surprise there, i’m shocked

Also Pattern eavesdropped on Dalinar and Navani and offers to reproduce the sound of them kissing and Shallan is like. You know what. no. no thanks pattern. maybe not. 

Also Adolin shows up and just hugs Shallan a lot, and then she kisses him. Nice. He also said that he would protect her and not let anything bad happen to her--which causes her to freeze up. 

Last person who did that was her father. Don’t try to hide her away, Adolin, she murdered the last man who did that. 

And Shallan also convinces them not to take the parshment with them, which was A Good Call because the parshendi are calling down the everstorm and all those parshmen would go stormform. 

Aaaand that ends Part Four! 

[ouma--kokichis]

What are Amami's FTE's like?

Since I have Amami’s FTEs with Akamatsu and Saihara, I’ll include both! There are spoilers, some major below!!! You have been warned!

The FTE with Akamatsu actually begins with Amami asking her for some tea together. Akamatsu asks if he’s hitting on her which Amami denies, laughing that many people think that because of his appearance. He states he genuinely wanted to spend time with Akamatsu because everyone else is very…unique in many ways because of their SHSL status and Akamatsu seemed to be the most normal of them allowing Amami to feel less out of place. Akamatsu then says that “Oh, but Saihara is quite normal.” (omg www) Amami then replies with the fact Saihara is a detective so may be hiding his true “form”.Akamatsu notices that Amami is quite calm about their current situation, being able to observe and notice what kind of people the other SHSL are. (Akamatsu also thinks to herself how she feels Amami is used to this kind of situation but quickly dismisses the idea as “impossible”)Amami feels that since he and Akamatsu are both “normal”, he feels more relaxed around her.

The second FTE with Akamatsu starts with Amami asking her about her speech about “becoming friends once they get out” and whether she really meant those words or not. Akamatsu says she meant it, but Amami kinda responds not very excitedly. He’s worried about the fact he still can’t remember his SHSL ability and that it could be something not that great, or something that could make everyone hate him. Akamatsu asks there is an ability that would be negative to which Amami responds with “SHSL Assassin” (aish…) Akamatsu says that an ability like that would break the Killing Games. So she suggests that the opposite could be possible such as “SHSL Mystery Novel Writer” where Amami could solve the cases way too easily. Amami points out that Saihara still knows his SHSL ability to which Akamatsu actually states that “well maybe he’s just not as good as you at solving mysteries” (RIP Saihara)Akamatsu reassures Amami that no matter what SHSL he has, she’ll still want to be friends with him. These abilities are merely a part of the person and shouldn’t be the sole reason to judge another. Akamatsu expresses how she wants to know more about each person, favourite food, hobbies, and especially music.Amami here then resolves that he must do something about their current situation so that they all can get out together and become all friends. And Akamatsu corrects him saying that all 16 have to work together to which he…agrees. And his FTEs with Akamatsu ends here…

From here these will be with Saihara and becasue of how the main story went, these FTEs can only be seen in the Bonus Prison Mode.

The first of Amami’s FTEs with Saihara begins with Amami pondering why they were brought into this situation. Amami talks about how its weird that this place is a school and how a bear-robot of all things is their “principal” - and quickly laughs that if Kiibo heard that he’d defintely get yelled at. The conversation switches to the fact Amami can’t remember his SHSL and thinks it could be something he himself doesn’t want to remember or perhaps he doesn’t even have an SHSL ability in the first place and was brought here by mistake.Saihara asks Amami if he remembers things prior to being brought here and that those memories perhaps could help them figure out what his talent is. Amami is suprised that Saihara was able to think of such a good plan (wwww this kid…) Saihara asks Amami what he likes to do to which Amami says he loves to travel. Apparently Amami traveled around alot by boat because his father is rich. He takes the family boat and just goes travelling as much as he likes. Saihara suggests “SHSL Rich Boy” (pfft) or “SHSL Traveler”, but Amami doesn’t think the fit him. He then slips up and suggests “SHSL Failure of a Brother” and when Saihara questions Amami about why he would think that, Amami ends the conversation.

The second FTE begins with Saihara continuing to question Amami about why he thought “SHSL Failure of a Brother” would be his talent. Amami sighs angrily telling Saihara to forget about it. And when Saihara doesn’t stop asking Amami takes the opposite approach, “why would that matter anyways.” and switches the topic back to what his hobbies are. (Saihara notes how Amami’s smile is telling Saihara to stop asking further) Amami tells Saihara about his travels, but they aren’t the normal tours or relaxed kind of travels Saihara imagined them to be. Saihara then suggests “SHSL Spy” as Amami’s talent because of the many dangers he encounters during his travels. Amami laughs that a “SHSL Spy” wouldn’t be in their current situation since getting caught is something that can’t happen and that there’s no way something that cool could be a talent for a normie character like himself. (Saihara notices Amami’s smile again, and thinks that those smiles feel like a wall to him) Amami uses smiles to hide his true feelings and Saihara is beginning to notice that.

The third FTEs begins with Saihara convinced that there’s no way Amami is as normal as he says he is and tries to talk to him about his SHSL again. Amami is happy, but doesn’t think there is anything else they could work with to figure it out. Amami laughs saying perhaps he was brought here by mistake and has no SHSL talent, and so his “SHSL talent would be "Bad Luck”“ After a slight pause, Amami visibly sighs expressing how he has no idea why he’s even here in the first place and those thoughts keep flooding his mind. He doesn’t have time to waste here. Amami continues on saying that he’ll do anything to get out of this situation. He HAS to keeping going further and can’t stop here. Saihara asks about why Amami wants to get outside so much.Amami answers with "Do you have any siblings?” Saihara is an only child, so Amami simply states that “then you wouldn’t understand”. Saihara is taken aback by Amami’s shift in attitude.

Because of the awkward end to the last FTE, Amami shows he does not really want to talk to Saihara. Saihara can’t help but want to help Amami, but doesn’t know what to say. The two stand in silence for a bit until Amami finally gives in. The conversation goes back to Amami’s “SHSL Failure of a Brother” he had said during their first FTE. Amami has a younger sister, but was unable to be a good brother to her. Many years ago, he was very close to his sister and she always followed him around. One day when his entire family were taking a vacation, Amami was super excited about their first boat trip that he ran off during one of their stops at a harbour. He thought he was alone, but his little sister actually followed him off the boat. Amami was so absorbed in the adventuring that he failed to notice her. Somewhere during the adventure, the two got separated and his sister never came back. Amami’s parents didn’t blame him for it, but he can’t help believe that a Big Brother has to protect their younger siblings and so he’s a failure of a big brother. The reason Amami travels around the world is to find his little sister. He doesn’t care if everyone else thinks its too late, he needs to see with his own two eyes before he can believe whether his sister is dead or alive. Saihara tells Amami that there’s not way he’s a bad brother. He’s someone who does so much for the sake of his sister, a full fledged “SHSL Brother”Amami seems a bit happy and hopes that something like that was true. He tells Saihara that he wants to be alone for a bit and the FTE ends here.

And now for Amami’s final FTE. Amami wants to ask Saihara something important, something he can only ask him. Amami tells Saihara that he was surprised when he was told that he’s a “SHSL Brother” instead of telling him to give up on finding his little sister. He was very happy and thanks Saihara. Amami laughs that he’s quite a Siscon (SHSL Siscon wwww) (Saihara sees that Amami’s laughter is a very bright one. not something that is used to repel others like before, but a genuinely happy smile.) Amami continues the conversation asking if Detectives take Missing persons cases and asks if Saihara could help him look for his sister. Saihara says he’s not a full fledged detective yet, but still agrees to help Amami. Amami reassures Saihara that he won’t make Saihara do all the work and that they’ll work together. Amami asks Saihara to stay by his side until the day he becomes the true “SHSL Brother” (This is voiced and sounds so much like confession) Saihara promises that he’ll reunite the two and send them back to their hometown. And then the most Danganronpa twist comes up. Amami doesn’t have only one little sister, but 12 and he got separated from ALL 12 of them. So this guy has 12 sisters(not all blood related) and managed to lose them all???!??? Amami laughs saying it’ll probably take an eternity to find them all (no more turning back Saihara), and that if the eternity is with Saihara, Amami thinks he can do it.

Well that concludes the summaries of all Amami Rantarou’s FTEs. Saihara has sold his life to find Amami’s lost 12 sisters.

What I found most interesting about this FTE is Amami’s comment on how he doesn’t believe his sister’s are gone until he sees the truth with his own eyes. I believe that is why Amami had such a hard time believing his the message he left for himself prior to the memory loss. His love for travelling expressed in these FTEs is the reason many people speculate him to have been the SHSL Adventurer in the previous killing game he was a part of.

Thank you for reading this much and I hope this helped get a glimpse of Amami’s character. Please remember this is merely a summary and not the entire FTE.

[antihero-writings]

The Boy with the Unspeakable Name (Ch1)

Fandom: Harry Potter (and the Chamber or Secrets)

Fic Summary: Tom Riddle may have won his battle with Harry in the Chamber of Secrets, but there were a few unforeseen consequences; loss of Tom's memory being the most obnoxious of them. Is it possible to stop Tom's past from becoming his future? Or is the young Tom Riddle doomed to repeat his mistakes?

Notes: 

I've actually had this idea ever since the first or second time I read Chamber of Secrets. Though Tom has never been my favorite character, I found young Tom interesting, and I always thought things would have gone differently if he had come back when he was Harry's age. I was always curious if he could have been redeemed if things had gone this way. Now, I know JK Rowling purposely wanted to create an irredeemable villain, so she wouldn't have redeemed him even then, but I wanted to write a fic playing with that idea.

Despite having had this idea for a long time, I didn't write it because I was afraid I'd bite off more than I could chew, and wouldn't finish. But this last time I read Chamber of Secrets, I decided I'd just go for it. I'm still afraid I won't finish, as this is the longest premise of any of my fics posted, (and I haven't finished any of my other, shorter, long fics...) but I didn't want that to stop me from at least trying out the idea. Even if I don't finish it, at least I'll have something to show for it!

All that being said, if you like this fic and do want me to continue...please please please consider commenting, and/or reblogging. Writing fics like this is a lot of effort, and while I do write them for my own enjoyment...it is still very difficult for me to find the motivation to continue them. Sometimes one comment can mean the difference between me gaining the motivation to continue, and leaving the fic behind.

Also, if there are any artists who are interested in drawing cover art for this fic don't hesitate to say so!! You can comment so below, or message me!!

Chapter 1:

He didn’t know how fitting it was.

Tom Riddle didn’t know just how fitting it was that the first two things he sensed after waking up were the sound of crying, and the stench of blood.

He didn’t remember how much of his past—or perhaps one could call it his future—was comprised of tears, blood, muffled screaming, and the words avada kadavra! hissed in a cold, high voice that was surely not his own.

Right now, he didn’t remember much of anything at all.

Sixteen years or sixty, he remembered none of pain, the loss, or the victory.

All he knew in this moment was that world was damp and cold, it smelled like death, and someone was weeping.

That was the world to him; an ink spill on living canvas. A hole made in screaming pages.

The sound of weeping was the first thing he knew in this new life—(or this old life, made new)—it echoed and filled the place—whatever the place was—like the slow drip of water in an empty cave; tiny on its own, mistakable in a crowd, but sharp, vast, and overpowering when the world was hollow.

And the world did feel hollow.

He did not wake to a warm, dry hospital bed, a fire, and a heap of get-well cards. His family did not surround him, showering him with love and gratitude, asking what he did and did not remember, and what had happened to their sweet boy. No one held up pictures, pointing to the scenes and people within them fervently demanding remember?!, praying amnesia would leave him sooner rather than later.

Instead he woke to a place in which every sensation burned: cold searched for weaknesses in his damp cloak and slithered across his skin; the smell of blood bored into his nostrils, enough he could almost taste it; and the longer he heard the wailing it burned in his ears too.

Burned because it hurt his heart not just his ears? Because it was sad? Because it mattered, and he needed to know what was wrong?

Surely not.

Burned because it was annoying, and he wanted to shut it up. Burned because it wasn’t a nice sound to wake up to, and whoever they were ought to have more courtesy for orphan boys who just wanted to wake up in peace.

Everything burned because something about feeling, sensing anything at all, was…oddly unfamiliar. Not strange as in a new way; it was like something he once knew well that had been forgotten, left behind for a while, like nostalgia.

And if simply living was this foreign…how long had it been since he was last alive? How long had he been a ghost? And what brought him back to his body?

He opened his eyes.

Sight didn’t change the impression he had received from his other senses; mostly it just added ‘dark’ to the list of not-very-nice things the world was made of. And due to this fact, sight didn’t burn nearly as much as his other senses. Still, the world was crisper, more colorful, somehow, despite its drab nature…

He was in a chamber, a dungeon of sorts—probably underground. Stones and statues, turned brownish-green in the humid atmosphere, lined the walls. Snakes poked their heads out at him from the walls, their eyes glittering as if they’d come alive at any moment. And before him was a particularly large statue of a bearded man.

But, as he sat up, his clothing—long, black robes, with a green patch on the chest—clinging to him uncomfortably, there were a few things sight showed him worth noting:

The first, most obvious, was the gigantic snake lying beneath the statue some ways down the chamber, its scaly green tail glistening in the low light. It was clearly dead; lying still, its belly up. There was blood where its lifeless eyes had been scratched blind, and a hole in the roof of in its gaping mouth, one of its front fangs missing. This was most likely the source of the foul smell. How long had it been dead? Couldn’t have been long, considering the other things around the room…

The second, what may have once been a book. This one was very close to himself. Its pages were ripped out of their bindings, in shreds, surrounding him like fresh snowfall. The leather cover had many holes and gashes in it, apparently made by the missing fang, which also lay beside the book, blackened ink on its tip—(but can words bleed?)—the book mutilated beyond repair. This was one of the strangest sights. It was almost as if someone—probably the person crying—blamed it for their problems and took their anger out on it, before that anger became the sorrow that resonated through the chamber now.

The third was a gleaming orange and red bird, long tail feathers unfurled on the floor, like a flame, its head held high, sitting quietly beside the mourner. It didn’t look like it didn’t belonged in such a grim place—like a rich person walking in a slum.

There was another glittering thing beside him: a silver sword with jewels encrusted in the hilt. This was likely the cause of the snake’s death, especially considering it had blood coating it.

A little way from it was a pile of raggedy brown fabric. …He couldn’t quite tell what it was supposed to be.

The sixth: the source of the crying, a boy. He had unruly black hair, and his black robes—(the same robes, he noted, that he himself was wearing, or very similar)—were christened with the blood and slime of beasts—(and maybe men, he couldn’t know)—and ink. He was possessed by the demon that was tragedy; his entire form shaking, heaving, whether from sadness or rage, or both, only time, and a healthy dose of good questioning would tell.

The last thing of note, and what was most likely the source of the tears: a corpse. A girl specifically, with red hair—almost as fiery as the bird’s feathers—ashen skin, and, once again, the black robes—(must be a uniform of some sort). Perhaps they were at a school? Quite a dreary school it was, if so. She was small, apparently young.

The scene was both a lot, and not much, to go on.

Three living things—one without memory, another without peace—two dead, and four inanimate, one of the inanimate things more mauled more than any of the living or dead.

His mind started to provide theories about the scene,

Theory one:

The snake had killed the girl, the boy had taken up the sword and killed it in outrage.

Made sense, but that still left the diary, the bird, and himself. As well as the pile of fabric…

He didn’t see the bird having a big role in this; his best guess was that it belonged to the boy, as it seemed loyal to him, sharing his grief, and that its role was the scratch marks on the snake’s eyes, helping the boy defeat it.

Theory two: The girl had written something in her diary the boy didn’t like, perhaps something about he himself. He had torn the diary apart, and in a jealous rage sent his pet snake after her, but regretted it after the snake went too far and killed her, and decided to kill it after all.

Theory three: Reverse of roles; the diary was the boy’s, and she had found it, and he was either mad she found it and tore it, or she had after finding something she didn’t like in it, potentially about him, and the offended party let loose the snake.

Theory four: The snake belonged to neither of them, it was by accident they happened to wake it, or stumble into its home while fighting about this diary.

But why did they find an underground chamber the best place for an argument? Did they live here? Was this a normal place for them to spend time? Like some sort of secret hideaway? Were they in hiding from something?

Four(a): Or else were they on some quest to find it—was the snake guarding treasure? Did the diary hold the map to it, and they tore it simply to keep anyone else from finding it, or else falling into the same trap?

Theory five: The diary was Tom’s. He had some relationship to one or both of them that went awry.

Five(a): The snake was Tom’s, and he had set it loose on the girl for some reason, perhaps he was the jealous and angry party here.

Theory six: The snake didn’t kill the girl.

Six(a): She was already dead or dying before the snake even arrived. Maybe the snakes venom, or something else about this chamber, was meant to cure her and failed.

Six(b): The boy killed her. Perhaps in his aforementioned jealous rage he had took the sword to her himself, and now he regretted it.

Six(c): Tom killed her.

He sat up, blinking at the dreary universe. The boy didn’t hear him, just kept on crying. It was a very tiresome noise to hear so constantly.

He reached over and, quietly as possible, drew the diary closer. What made its disfigurement all the stranger was that every page he could see appeared blank. People didn’t usually have qualms with blank diaries—it was the words that people were so touchy about.

When he lifted up the cover, he could see beneath the gashes a name: Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The sight of the name sent a curious sensation through his stomach; he didn’t remember who it belonged to, but the name set a fire boiling in his gut, a bubbling, swirling, writhing fire within him. A fire that threatened to destroy everything around it too.

He looked up at the mourner. Was that his name? Or was the girl, in fact, a very petite, long-haired boy? Did the diary belong to no one present, and it was the secrets within, not the owner, that mattered? But there were no words at all, let alone any secrets…

Or…was it perhaps his own? His own name that he didn’t even remember.

Sitting here theorizing wasn’t going to get him any closer to the truth.

It didn’t seem like a good idea to disturb the boy in his grief, but he didn’t have much choice—losing your memory is an ordeal of its own, you know.

He got to his feet—this sensation too didn’t feel completely mundane to him. Everything felt nostalgic— like in some fond childhood he walked, and smelled, and saw, and heard, but as he grew up, sense left him, and he forgot what it meant to be alive. His damp clothes clung to his body, making him shiver.

His footstep broke the atmosphere; the first new sound in the stagnant place, the pieces of peace cutting through the tears. The boy gasped—the kind of raw gasp, full of dread and despair, one takes when they realize the dragon is awake.

But the dragon in this particular chamber was slain…

His slow steps filled the chamber, an ominous repetition, the ticking of a clock.

When he got close, the boy’s hand wrapped around the hilt of the sword, the metal twinkling in the dim light, scraping and clattering on the stone as it moved.

“I’d stay back if I were you,” his voice was soft but solid, dangerous, wet with tears, shaking with rage, hoarse from screaming.

Tom stopped. He didn’t know what that meant, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Hmm…What to ask? ‘Why’s that?’ ‘What happened here?’ ‘Who are you, who was she, and, while you’re at it, who am I?’

The scene was still fresh; if he touched the embers it might reignite.

“And…If you were me, what would you do?” he decided to ask. Speech, words forming on his tongue, felt odd too… but it was the sound of his voice that caught him most off guard…why? Had he been expecting to hear something different?

It was an odd question; he could tell the boy wasn’t expecting it. He paused. Then he scoffed,

“I’ll never be like you.” Then his voice grew quiet and dangerous, “But if I were in your place…I would run. As far away as I could, and as fast as I could, before I found out what the famous Harry Potter is capable of when you take something important from him.”

An even odder response.

The boy turned. One of his most defining features was the circular-rimmed, cracked glasses he wore. That, and the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, which was red and irritated. Seeing this scar, for some reason, made ire rise in Tom’s throat too. His glasses shielded eyes of a bright green which also heralded from a distant memory.

Bright, but dark. A green that pierced the veil of shadows, yet reflected the rest of the world. He wondered if he had ever seen such hatred in someone’s eyes before, in that past he didn’t remember. They burned as bright as the bird by his side, bright as the girl’s hair. They were bright enough to set the chamber ablaze, dark enough to enact the threats in all the room’s corners. Yet his name didn’t immediately come to mind.

Harry Potter. That was what he said his name was. Once said aloud, the name was more familiar than sensation itself; a burning scar upon his mind, never quite healed. The name was rage, and humiliation itself to him…though he couldn’t place the source of these emotions; no memories came to mind.

They were enemies.

Only two names he knew so far, and both sent the same sort of mad fury through him. Curious.

He couldn’t be more than twelve years old. Twelve years old was quite the young age to be defeating monsters, watching girls die, and to hold such hatred in one’s eyes. Very young to be so hated by he himself. He was just a kid, did he/this harry potter really deserve all this?

Why did they hate each other so much? Was it normal for him to hate twelve-year-old boys? Come to think of it, how old was he himself? He sounded young, not much older than him. But he didn’t feel young. Why did he hate him so much? It was starting to look like Theory six(c) might be the most likely.

He didn’t take his advice. He didn’t know much about himself, but he didn’t think he was one to take people’s advice, especially not that of his enemies. In ignorant defiance he took a step forward.

“Stay back!” Harry Potter barked, as vicious as a loyal guard dog.

That same hatred he felt buzzed behind his words.

Another step.

He held up the sword.

“I’m warning you.” Tom knew the threat in his voice was very real.

Yet he came closer. Close enough to see the face of the girl.

He didn’t recognize her. Predictable, but aggravating. He had hoped that perhaps seeing her would bring him to his senses. Alas, she was just a dead girl.

He leaned in closer.

“DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!!” the boy’s words, along with the sword, were at his throat without a second to spare.

He simply flicked his gaze to him; no sign of shock or emotion at his outburst on his features.

The world must burn for this boy too. Burn, not because of sensation itself was strange, but because what he felt was currently was too much to bear.

Hatred, horror, heartbreak…hell. It all blazed and overflowed in his eyes.

Tom backed up one step, then another, and kept backing away until the sword was no longer close to his skin. Harry could have easily followed him, keeping the threat alive, but it seemed staying by the girl, protecting her lifeless body was his highest priority—Why? What could he possibly do now that she was dead? Was he prone to mutilate dead girls? Was his touch gross enough on its own to warrant such violence?

The anger was still white-hot, but confusion was in the boys’ eyes too now.

Yup, six(c) seemed pretty likely.

So, how had he lost his memory? He himself didn’t seem hurt in the slightest physically, he didn’t even have so much as a spitting headache to tell him he’d knocked his head hard enough to lose his memory. It didn’t appear as though he and the boy had dueled, despite the indication they were opponents, and the sword in his hand. Nothing indicated how he could lose his memory, or why…or, come to think of it, why he was still alive.

If it was true he had killed her, that they were enemies, why hadn’t Harry killed him in his sleep? He surely had the chance, in the midst of all the wailing. Why didn’t he walk up to him, send that sword through him and be done with it? Why didn’t he fight him, run him through, now? Tom was clearly unarmed, and Harry was likely the one who killed the snake, clearly he had the upper hand, the power to do so. It all made too much sense.

He could tell he wanted to.

…The diary. It must be connected to everything. Would it reveal the truth of the situation, and his lost memories? Everything seemed to trace back to it. From the looks of things, it was the source of the scene…and it was the most confusing part of the scenario. If he started with it, perhaps he could get somewhere.

He sauntered back to it, crouched down and picked up the mangled cover, staring at the name, the holes where someone—presumably Harry—had stabbed it, a few blank pages hanging limply out of the binding. But why would he hurt an inanimate diary?

“Who’s Tom Riddle?” he asked.