#Granted most of the folks who use bases are usually kids but still

[lady-zephyrine]

Sometimes I think about how in the Ye Olde days of DeviantArt it was often frowned upon to use bases, so much so that you would even get bullied for it.

However, I'd consider someone who uses bases an artist before I'd consider someone that uses AI an "artist", because at least the base user can still draw on the hair and clothes to make the OC they want.

[milehighmegs]

On the Subject of AuDHD: An Admission

CW: discussion but not recounting of abuse & bullying

SO. I've spent the last several hours watching various TEDx Talks about ADHD & autism on YouTube. Granted, I've done this in lieu of doing my homework, because, well... ADHD. If you've got it, you get it. Oh I understand PERFECTLY what this means: scrambling to complete my assignments later today or even tomorrow, carrying the weight of guilt, shame, & self-flagellation of not having done what I was "supposed" to do when I had the opportunity... but I've spent my life doing that, so it ain't my first rodeo. Thanks, executive dysfunction.

Most of what I've been watching today has to do with the subject of masking; in short, masking is what ND people do to be seen as "normal," "fitting in," or being deemed "acceptable" by society at large. The biggest problem with masking is that it not only deprives the world of what we ND folks have to offer in terms of differing perspectives, new ideas, & innovative thinking; it deprives US of connecting with a clear & open identity of ourselves, and in the process suppressing those things that make us unique, excited, & truly engaged with ourselves and the world. It also creates an insane amount of self-doubt, with a sizeable helping of imposter syndrome, when we finally realize that dropping the mask is the best thing we can do for ourselves, but have zero clue as to how to go about it.

As a child, I had no mask. For me, this translated into having no filter. Not on my behavior, not on my reactions & responses, and certainly not on my mouth. Around the age of 5, I had developed enough cognitively to recognize- if not understand- that most people were uncomfortable with my lack of filter, and those in positions of authority or just age-based seniority made sure I knew it. My mouth got me into a LOT of trouble, mostly because I would say things that were "disrespectful" (and I don't mean slurs or bullying; I would usually just say things to an adult that would contradict them or prove them wrong and they didn't like it). I have been described throughout my entire life as having an "attitude problem;" read: they didn't like my attitude because it conflicted with their level of entitlement & perceived authority. This has in a lot of ways diminished, probably because I've reached a point where I can claim age-based authority, but much more so because I've learned to bite my tongue just to keep the so-called peace.

Being a highly sensitive person means that I often have issues with emotional regulation, but I learned from age 5 on that I was not allowed to be an emotional person. My parents, and particularly my mother, are extremely uncomfortable with any show of emotion. We are NOT a touchy-feely family. We do not talk about our feelings. We do not show our feelings, not even to each other, and especially not in public. Anger was okay to a point, but happiness? Sadness? Frustration? Not allowed. So you can imagine what this was like for me growing up: an AFAB kid in the 90's with undiagnosed ADHD and autism, who was branded as "gifted" early on, only to burn out in high school when classes were either so easy that they became boring, or so challenging that I would cry over a single algebra problem that I could not, no matter how hard I tried, get right.

As my brain developed further, I may have struggled with social cues from peers (and I still do), but I was keenly aware that me being me was not okay at home. This was where I first learned to mask. If I had a tough day at school (I was bullied for being a little weird, a little too smart, a lot too small, etc.), I didn't tell my parents. I didn't tell my teachers. Why? Because I learned early that adults would blow it off as me being too sensitive and/or too dramatic. That's what happens to sensitive kids. Everything, no matter how real or how awful, becomes a "cry for attention." At that time, I wasn't struggling academically; I was struggling socially, but no one who could have helped was willing to. So I learned to mask at school, too. It took a really awful incident for me to learn that lesson. With teachers & peers alike, I pretended. I faked it. I LIED. About who I was, about how I felt, about how I was doing.

Deprived of connection, of affection, and of basic acceptance, I tried for a few years to fit in with whatever crowd I was running with or who I was trying to impress. Until my junior year of high school when I threw all that onto a proverbial funeral pyre and dove headfirst into the deep end of being the "goth chick." I felt, for the first time in my life, that I was expressing myself in a truly authentic way, but- of course- no one took me seriously, and it was blown off as being a phase (spoiler alert: it wasn't a phase). I was called a poser because my first two years of high school had been me trying on various looks, various personas, various MASKS, trying to find the one that felt the least uncomfortable while also being the most socially acceptable. As a middle-class choir girl with a (on the surface) good home life and decent academic performance, why in the world I'd walk around in fishnets, black rubber bracelets, 3-inch platform knee-high lace-up boots, and dyed-burgundy hair hanging 3 feet straight down from my scalp was beyond everyone's comprehension. I gave no fucks. I was, at least on the outside, being honest with myself, and- to a degree- honest with others about who I really was.

The problem was that I couldn't tell anyone that I was still disconnected, still starved for affection, and still struggling to feel accepted, even by my fellow "freaks." So, I didn't realize it at the time, but I used my "fuck off" appearance to push people away before they had a chance to push me away for being too much. I rejected them before they had a chance to reject me. I put up barriers to acceptance from the get-go by rejecting the supposed ideals of what being a teenager at that time meant, and swung in the complete opposite direction, boldly & brazenly, just to drive home the point. This all changed drastically not long after graduation.

I had joined the military, but lasted only 7 months because I opted out upon becoming pregnant with my daughter. Her father, my first husband, was verbally abusive: he ridiculed the way I dressed (I was still goth), pointed out the weight I'd gained carrying HIS child, insulted my faith (I'm pagan, he was a devout Christian)... he expected that because I'd become his wife & babymama that I would just convert and change who I was because he had a rep to protect. No thank you. That marriage ended. But it left me with severe emotional scars. If the man who had claimed to love me, who had vowed to protect & respect me, could hurt me so deeply, what hope did I have with the rest of the world? The mask parade started all over again.

I spent 20 years after that putting on mask after mask after mask. None felt good. None felt right. Every time the mask got too heavy, too smothering, I'd take it off and lose someone or something else in my life. A friend. A romantic partner. A job. I tried to be a wife & mom two other times after my first disastrous performance. I was thrice divorced before age 36, with two kids by two different fathers, no career, no home of my own, and no future to speak of. In short, by the time I gathered the courage to relocate to a new state in the middle of a pandemic, I had no hope.

The Covid Times™ were awful. But if there was one good thing that came out of them, it was that the amount of time I spent watching Netflix & Prime ultimately led me to find my purpose & passion in life; I'm currently working on a degree to do the job I never knew I wanted. But the other benefit was having all that time to doomscroll social media, where I learned that a few of my old high school friends had recently been diagnosed with an array of ND conditions, mostly autism & ADHD. As kids in the 90's, a lot of the AMAB kids got ADD diagnoses and were pumped full of ritalin, but us AFABs were left in the dust. And NO ONE would have suspected autism in any of us because at that time, autism was a very different thing; there was no spectrum, just a narrow set of criteria that included savantism, being non-verbal, and/or seemingly random bouts of rage or tantrums over seemingly small incidents. Those of us who spoke, tied our shoes, and fed ourselves would never have been placed in the autism category. It was sad, looking back on it now, because it would have made so many things make so much more sense, and could have made our difficult childhood-into-adulthood transitions so much simpler.

But back to the masks. Because I spent so much time alone, stuck in my apartment with only my cat for company, I learned a lot about myself, which came with a lot of negative self-talk for not being myself all these years. Now, all alone in a new state, no way to socialize or connect with new people, and all the people I knew being over a thousand miles away, I felt- at first- that I had a clean slate. But once the world started to open up more, and I started attending college on-campus, I went the opposite direction: I didn't want to be seen. Walking the halls with my head down, using self checkout everywhere I could, keeping conversation with my Lyft passengers to a minimum (or tragically way oversharing; there is no middle ground with me)... Looking back on it now, I know it's because I hadn't fully fleshed out my true identity; I was still clinging to old habits, old ways of thinking, still had a "don't notice me" wardrobe. I was still wearing a mask, but now it was totally blank. I wanted to appear as two-dimensional and as forgettable as possible. It only served to isolate me even further.

Which brings me to today. I've had to move back in with my mom (long story) at the age of nearly 43, and while I'm excited about my first semester at a state-level university, I'm back to being fully online so I'm not connecting with my fellow students. Mom is still emotionally distant, I have no friends here, and I'm as single as it gets, so I'm still starved for affection. And though I've found something of a community online, here on tumblr and in other places, having recently come out as genderfluid, I still feel isolated thanks to imposter syndrome. I finally unmasked that particular part of myself, and I'm proud to have done so, but not having been part of this community for long, I feel like it's going to take extra hard work to feel accepted into it. And I'm still masking in other ways: just this morning, I woke up in a shit mood, and I snapped at my mom a bit before admitting to said shit mood. She said, "Then take your shit mood and go away." So I did. And I've locked myself in the study since, watching YouTube videos on ADHD & autism masking, and writing this.

I doubt it ever occured to her that my shit mood would have gone away if she had just asked me what my shit mood was about, and then listened openly to my worries about school, money, and my fresh fears around my genderfluidity. But I was raised to not just wear the mask; I was raised to BE the mask. To not just put it on, but to BECOME it. I was taught, from a very early age, that I was far too much for the people around me to handle, and that I should just take myself elsewhere, disappear, conceal myself, don't be a burden, leave it alone, forget about it. To be forgotten. To be rejected, and to accept that rejection without question, without pain, without confusion. Bury it. Hide it. Live with it.

So where's the admission here? It's that while I'm scared of all this, I'm even more tired of not being ME. I guess it's in that I'm ready- eager even- to bust way out of my shell, to take off the mask and burn that motherfucker down, but that I'm also terrified to do so, and am totally clueless as to how. I admit that I know taking off the mask is the best thing I can do for myself, but it's become so much a part of my identity that I'm still not entirely sure who I am without it. I'm scared, terrified, that I may use my genderfluidity as just another mask; that I may use my AuDHD as just another mask. Terrified that all these things I know about myself to be true & real & authentic & all that are really just masks in disguise, if that make any sense at all. Just new masks being created in a desperate attempt to be accepted by anyone, anywhere. In other words, is this imposter syndrome? Or am I just an imposter? I don't have any real way to know unless I fully live out what I'm feeling instead of hiding it from others, and ultimately hiding it from myself. Maybe when I get to the end of this paragraph, I'll have a better idea of what to do.

Until then, thank you for reading this far. Have some potatoes.

[gaydogmarriage]

cyno sq2 messy thoughts

cyno quest 2 was pretty alright. its got the usual genshin jank writing disease but for what it was i enjoyed it. felt pretty crammed into a shorter story than it should have been tho. theres still a lot of gaps that remain unexplored and the exposition was dumped so fast... sadly most of the parts id like to see explored more revolve around cyrus so tough shit there, i doubt he's appearing again. unless something happens off screen and cyno tells us about it we're pretty much left to speculate on things like cyrus's motives and any talks they may have about this new revelation of cyno's past. which isnt a bad thing, its just a little frustrating just how much that was put aside in the quest

im really curious about what cyrus's thoughts and feelings that led to the decisions he made were, how much cyno feels he needs to know, how much cyrus is willing to tell.. hes one mysterious bastard

its worth noting that cyno refers to his spirit indwelling as the result of a deal he made willingly, despite him being a small child when it happened, definitely not fit to be making thise kinds of decisions. i already thought that was something to pick apart before, but now with this quest it gets so much more curious. his memory of that time is so hazy he didnt even remember the temple of silence and the other kid who went through the same thing he did. he was sold by his parents for the sole purpose of being a vessel which i doubt was something a small kid would just volunteer for, and then he had the fragment implanted into him. yet even as he's standing tgere in the temple, he refers to it as a deal he made willingly. he says it like its the only thing he knows and remembers about it. is it something he tells himself? is that how he copes, by retroactively trying to grant himself agency in a situation out of his childhood self's control? when he calls it a deal, is he referring to the people who put the spirit in him, or does he consider it a deal with the spirit itself? theres just so much to dissect here

and furthermore, cyno seems to completely forgive cyrus for the role he played in this. it really recontextualizes their whole familial relationship. we know how lowly cyno thinks of scholars who pull stunts like this, toying with life and death and god knows what else. he personally participated in putting a stop to the artificial god experiment, which reflects his own past more than he even realized at the time. yet he seems to barely even feel conflicted when it comes to cyrus. maybe he's just matured and become content with his life beyond the point of that truly shaking him up, but he should still have some issue with it on principle. but he's also known cyrus for seemingly all of his life that he remembers, and ultimately he did put a stop to it and get him out of there, and then proceed to keep him safe from the akademiya treating him the same. as a test subject, not his own person. he knows cyrus is no longer willing to be complicit in something like that, so he has no concerns. i don't know. there's just so much

on a completely unrelated note... tighnarians, huh? im still not completely clear on whether valuka shuna and tighnarian are synonyms, or whether one is an umbrella term including the other or what. the implication seems to be that the headdress cyno wears seems to actually be based on fox folk, rather than a jackal or a wolf? which... doesn't really make sense. technically it's never been mentioned in actual dialogue or lore as being either, but it still doesnt quite sit right. hermanubis already seemingly wore the headdress, but he was a tighnarian himself? meaning he had fox traits? but the helmet does not look foxlike? are all tighnarians foxlike? are there some that were of other canine nature? im so confused. what does this mean for my dog coding enjoyment. i need to refresh my lore knowledge

and. hm. that 4ggravate friendship and cynari huh. i rly dont like how hard hoyo seems to be trying to retcon their backstories to instead pretend theyve always been besties. we could have gotten a bit of elaboration on how it was for them when they actually met, with tighnari as student and cyno already as mahamatra investigating him, but the quest dialogue acts like they were just classmates. if the implication was meant to be that cyno was both mahamatra and student at the same time, thats fucking stupid and im ignoring it. the cnnri in this quest was both incredible and a disaster for the fanon

oh and i like sethos. hes got a lot going on

and i like how cyno's maturity is portrayed in this quest, while still showing his shortcomings. we've had a lot of silly cyno since the archon and first story quests, and im really glad to see the serious mature side of him in a story thats more about him personally. and when he stands there right next to sethos you can really see how much he has his shit together in comparison, through his own efforts and the support of his loved ones. go go cyno we love that for you cyno

anyway quest gave me fun ingredience for my hc's and interpretations, but also Problems to solve. welp, the genshin giveth and it taketh away, thats just how it is

[lavenoon]

I enjoy reading all these sleep facts, please info dump some more when you have time! (or when comic is finished/you need a drawing break!)

Enablers, all of you! Sketch is done, so another quick ramble as I eat the breakfast I forgot:

Accommodations are plentiful! If sleep doesn't work for you as is, despite melatonin/ routine/ whatever, maybe there's something else missing/ not right!

Like I'm talking about compression blankets or weighted blankets, both offering some pressure that will help you wind down, or bed tents and canopies if you feel too exposed just with the ceiling above you! Most of these may be marketed towards neurodivergent folks (neurodivergent kids more often than not, unfortunately), if you feel like it may enhance your sleeping experience, use it!

Gonna ramble a bit about my sleep, putting it under a cut - doesn't feel too personal for me, I'm not embarrassed, but I'm prone to oversharing so making that opt-in lmao

I'm autistic and have ADHD, sleep is a whole ass challenge for me - and I only started really being kind to myself over it this year! (especially because I only really looked into autism/ got diagnosed this year, too lmao)

I use:

Melatonin half an hour before my bedtime

two weighted blankets, for the summer I have a compression blanket to not die of heat stroke

all in all I currently sleep under 8 blankets. Yes. Princess on the Pea kinda bs here

A bed tent! A cheap one from Ikea that only covers the top of the mattress, the big ones are a bit too much of a hassle even though I love them in theory

My bed has a raised frame, too, and is a child's single bed - I feel enclosed when I sleep and that's ideal

My sensory issues means my legs CANNOT touch at night or I die, so I have a pillow to put between my legs!

Love holding on to either my blankets or a plushie, too, to have something in my arms. Makes me feel safe

Earplugs! Gods, I am SO noise sensitive, I don't know how I ever slept without. I use the foam kind, and they're a godsent, the wax kind I hate so so much lmao

A sleep mask! Specifically one that also covers the ears, originally one of those with integrated headphones, but I took those out and just use it as is #livingintheyear3022

A few specific comfort items/ routines (texture blanket, specific plushie, blankets in specific order, some other stuff)

My sister once said before I got my autism diagnosis: "Look at your bed. Of course you're autistic." and I cannot blame her lmao

And granted, even with all that, I still struggle to sleep a lot of the times! I naturally would get tired around 1AM to 2AM, but that's not feasible for work, so I have to manually shift my body's sleep schedule, and that's rough. I've adapted somewhat, and wake up around 6AM usually (almost 8 today, I slept in! Because I woke up and couldn't fall asleep for two hours tonight!)

Bottom line is, unfortunately ideal sleep is, as all ideals, most likely impossible to reach. But you can still experiment with different accommodations - there's definitely more than I mentioned here, and different things work for different people (like how I absolutely cannot stand sound based asmr, and have friends who really prefer some background noise for sleep), so don't be scared to try out a couple things!

Wishing all of you good sleep luck <3

[haldenlith]

Trajectory ch 4

Another chapter in Ardwynn's little story I'm working on.

Also on AO3

“Oh, and the Hunter is down! Looks like it’s up to the Warlock on the team to deliver the finish!” The audio crackled on the television as it played the Crucible match. Ardwynn was only half paying attention to it, busy replotting points on his maps, updating new data points reported by his scouts. The EDZ was more of a place of careful patrol than for raiding anymore, what with The Witness’s forces lurking about.

Not that it stopped an enterprising group to sneak back into the old base, stuff the old jukebox Ardwynn had to leave behind into an engram, and bring it back. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be touched or incredibly irritated that they risked their hide for something so trivial. Ardwynn briefly wondered if this was what having children felt like, only these “kids” were adults. Most of them, anyway.

Ghost, meanwhile, had proven incredibly useful, even if Ardwynn was still incredibly leery of why the little one hung around him. He cast a sidelong glance to the Ghost, who was sorting through new reports. He’d yet to leave his side, and was annoyingly sympathetic and chummy. Ardwynn pursed his lips and returned to his work. People he could read, at least to some degree. Ghosts were a mystery to him… but… they were virtually invisible in The City.

And The Tower.

Ardwynn paused and looked back to Ghost. “You think you’d be willing to run a little recon for me?” Ghost looked up from his work, blinking his blue eye.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Where I’m going,” Ghost replied matter-of-factly. The Awoken hummed softly, leaning on the table. The base was in good working order, everything was ready to get business rolling again. Everyone was itching and antsy, him included. The Vanguard would be the perfect target, given how preoccupied they were now. Granted, it broke his rule of “don’t kick a man when they’re down”, but this wouldn’t be a kick. More like… a tickle. A lovebite.

“I want to know what’s going on with The Vanguard.” Ghost’s response was a collection of disgruntled chirps and beeps.

“Ardwynn.”

“Don’t ‘Ardwynn’ me. I need to know what’s going on with them.”

“Then ask them.”

“Not that kind of need to know,” he responded coyly. Ghost narrowed his eye.

“You wanna rob The Vanguard, don’t you?” Ardwynn threw his hands up.

“Whoa, whoa, okay, hold on! ‘Rob’ is a very strong word, little guy. You’re making it sound like I wanna run in and steal their shit at gun point. I’m more like…” He trailed off and twiddled his fingers in the air. “Like reaching into their pocket and helping myself. I bet they won’t even notice.” Ghost sighed and shook his shell.

“That’s not much better, you know.” He bobbed in the air. “And they’re trying to find a way to go after The Witness! They don’t have time to deal with you and honestly, we all need to be on the same page right now.”

“Exactly! They won’t even notice me. This is more of a… formality. I’m just letting them know that our business is concluded. They can focus on universe ending mumbo-jumbo, I can focus on all the little people that are forgotten in the process.” Ghost chirped quizzically.

“People forgotten in the process? What exactly do you mean?” Ardwynn’s shoulders slumped as he affixed a deadpan look to Ghost.

“You really think anyone is keeping tabs on the folk out in the settlements in the midst of this chaos? Everyone’s great idea to deal with it was to just get people to leave their homes and go to The Farm or move into The City. Come on. As usual, their eyes are in the sky, not on the ground.” He shrugged and turned back to his map, sticking a pin into a spot. “Which is fine, I guess. Just let’s not pretend people don’t need a little extra help.” He then turned his attention to the ethereal purple map on the wall. Carefully cobbled together Awoken tech, showing readout of a map of The Reef. If they were careful to avoid Pyramid ships, they could use the chaos to slip in and do a few runs.

“That’s noble of you, but I just think you could be putting that energy elsewhere. Just my thoughts on the matter.” Ghost floated over to be next to Ardwynn. “… I’ll do one run through of The Tower. That’s all you’re getting. … Is this The Reef?”

“… It is.”

“Wow, this map is actually quite beautiful, and impressively detailed. Not that I’d know. I’ve never been up that way.” Ardwynn glanced at Ghost.

“You’re not missing much,” he muttered. Ghost turned to him.

“… You steal from them too, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Why? I’ve talked with everyone. They said The Magpies do all this to help people. Well, not everyone said that, but most of them. But I’ve not heard from you. Everyone points to you as the one starting all this.” Ardwynn shrugged, swiping his fingers across the map, zooming in on a location.

“They pretty much nailed it. Started this via raiding The Reef for supplies during The Red War, because refugees needed them. Kept doing it, expanded the scope of who we stole from. We occasionally skim a little off the top, because nobody’s perfect,” he replied with a broken smirk, stretching the scar that split the right side of his mouth. “… Why? Having a crisis of conscience, little shimmershine?” Ghost eyed Ardwynn. He’d worked to make sure he had some value to the crew, while also making it a point to observe them. Observe everyone. Some people were a little questionable, but for the most part, they were actually good people. Rowdy misfits doing things their way, led by a wild man who seemed… more than he was. Or, at least, more than he let people see.

Ghost looked back to the map on the wall.

“No. Just… curious.” Ardwynn’s orange gaze turned suspicious, eyes narrowing.

“I still think it’s weird you’re hanging around like you do.”

Ghost chirped and shifted his shell as if mimicking the motion of “shrugging”. “Maybe I just want to be a part of this? What you’re doing. I can be pretty useful, if you haven’t already noticed.” Ardwynn wasn’t entirely convinced, a rumble of suspicion sounding from his throat, eyes still narrowed.

“I hate that I can’t deny that. You are handy to have around… Just not really used to having one of you little guys around without a Guardian attached, and though Guardians tend to mean great loot, they also mean trouble. I ain’t about that brand of trouble outside of very particular circumstances.” It was Ghost’s turn to hum suspiciously.

“Oh? Then what about Crow?” Ardwynn arched up a brow in response.

“That’s different. Speaking of, how do I know you won’t just… magically find your Guardian and run off on me, huh? I feel like you being unpaired is almost a liability.”

Ghost shook his shell. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ve… pretty much given up on my search. Besides, I don’t need a Guardian to be useful.” As if to prove his statement, he floated back to the reports, returning back to work. Granted, his stack of “finished” reports were a mess, given that he could only nudge them around on the desk. Sometimes he hated not having hands. Or arms. Or any appendages, really. Ardwynn sighed, staring at Ghost for a few moments.

“Fine, fine. I’ll take you at your word, for now.” Ardwynn returned to his work, muttering softly, “Suspicious little bastard.” Ghost glanced up for a moment at Ardwynn, spinning his shell. If he could have, he would have smiled.

Observing Ardwynn was an interesting task. He was chaotic, certainly, but he had his own form of a routine. His days started in the early morning, sometimes before the sun was even up. Ghost assumed he’d be the type to not rise until well into the late morning. Ardwynn rarely ate anything in the morning. He generally started the day with tea, coffee, or whiskey, and little else. Or some combination of all three. Ghost didn’t approve of that, but he learned quickly that Ardwynn was skilled at tuning people out when they nagged him (most of the time), so he stopped.

Like clockwork, Ardwynn always did a walk-through of the base, taking the time to check up on everything – and everyone. Asking how they were doing, about their lives, about the little things, not just about reports, hauls, and general business. He sometimes took the extra time to do little things for people. He repaired Kenta-2’s buffer. He knew how much the Exo loved to make sure his purple and black duochrome plates were shiny. He sparred with Billy, to keep her sharp, and just blow off some steam. He loved to tease Eurydice while working alongside her on dismantling a recently stolen Sparrow. Sometimes he liked to get a rise out of her, but mostly just to keep her company in her quiet workshop corner. Ghost took note that he even got her some new tools (shockingly purchased legitimately, and not stolen).

Next came reports, updating the maps, and general logistics duties. Ghost didn’t expect that Ardwynn knew how to be quiet, serious, even diligent. His demeanor only changed when someone else entered the “war room” (as Ardwynn loved to call it).

That said, Ardwynn never stayed there for too long. After an hour, he generally wander off to do other things. Sometimes it was temporary, and he’d get back to work eventually, sometimes not. Today, he played soccer with a mixture of Eliksni and human children. The winners got piggyback rides.

Ghost’s incessant nagging in an attempt to get Ardwynn to eat eventually resulted in him stopping to get food somewhere in The City. He ended up running into Crow. To Ghost’s dismay, Ardwynn pulled him aside and told him to go do his little mission while he had Crow busy, so he was unable to chat with Glint. No matter, Ardwynn was finally eating.

Ghost confirmed Ardwynn’s suspicions that he would be, largely, unnoticed. Ghosts were everywhere in the general area around the official Vanguard offices. One more was hardly noteworthy. He was easily able to go and peruse reports. Apparently attentions had shifted to Titan (Titan was back?), answering a distress signal (and there’s someone alive there?!). Drifter was apparently a part of the on-going operation. And they found Oryx’s body?! Further perusal found a few reports on Eris’s research and autopsies of Savathun’s corpse (eugh), and then a few spare quartermaster reports. It must be mighty lonely in The Hangar now that Amanda is gone. Regardless, Ghost got the information he assumed Ardwynn wanted. How he’d use it was anyone’s guess.

He was honestly almost afraid to ask. Either way, he was his accomplice now, which… was oddly not a bad feeling.

Ghost knew trying to hail Ardwynn was pointless. The man never kept much any communication tech on him unless he intended to need to be reached. So, returning to base was the better bet on finding him. He could still be with Crow, too, but who knows whether they’d still be where he last left them. If he wasn’t at base, there were a few likely spots Ardwynn could be, as Ghost had learned in the short time he’d been hanging around.

There were a few clubs Ardwynn liked to slip into – at least the ones that hadn’t thrown him out on principle yet. The man loved music, loved dancing, loved drinking… loved being dragged elsewhere by someone for other activities, much to Ghost’s dismay. Unmistakably, Ghost had decided to associate with a hedonist. Following that same line of thought, Ardwynn could also be at his favorite brothel. A higher end affair that made it a point to welcome Ardwynn with open arms. Ghost was concerned just how much glimmer the man had dumped into their coffers to be welcomed so warmly, and with such familiarity. Either way, Ghost never stuck around either establishment to find out Ardwynn’s preferences of nightclub or brothel. He found that he didn’t have the luxury of dematerializing, so he had to physically relocate elsewhere and wait until Ardwynn was done.

If the Awoken was at either of those, well… it was just better for Ghost to simply wait him out. He’d eventually come stumbling back into either his living quarters via the Eliksni Quarter entrance, or the back entrance from base. Of course, that would mean Ghost’s findings would have to wait until morning, because Ardwynn usually fell asleep immediately after arrival.

Luckily, Ghost got confirmation from the other Magpies that their fearless leader had returned not long before Ghost’s arrival, and in good spirits, but that he had retired to his quarters that he’d setup in the abandoned Vault Ebisu.

“He did say he was going to grab a nap, though, so he might be out cold when you get to him.” Inconvenient, but not a problem in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he was falling victim to a food coma? The idea pleased the little Light. That would mean he ate a lot of food! It’d make up for him not eating breakfast! A big, active guy like him should be eating three square meals a day. Ghost spun his shell with determination, making note to harass Ardwynn into eating more often. Someone clearly had to look out for him.

Ghost floated along into the dimly lit corridor that lead to the main area, and subsequently Ardwynn’s living quarters. Unexpectedly, he didn’t see the man immediately. Just as he was about to call out, he heard a soft hiccup, and an intentionally quiet sob. Slowly, he followed the sound to find the man he was looking for, seated on the cool concrete floor, back against the wall. While he wasn’t curled up tightly, his knees were still nearly pulled to his chest. Another choking sob escaped him as tears stained his scarred face. Ghost’s shell tightened with concern, and he slowly approached.

“Ardwynn, what’s wrong?” He asked softly. Orange eyes snapped up to lock onto him, wide and surprised. Like a wild animal caught in a trap, Ardwynn was quick to spring to terrified action, swatting and then throwing things at the Ghost.

“Fuck off already!” Ghost dodged Ardwynn’s attempts at lashing out, at chasing him away, instead finding a shelving unit to hide under, though the glow of his blue eye still illuminated from the darkness of his hidey-hole as he watched Ardwynn. The man growled, but his hostility melted swiftly into more despair. This time, he curled up tightly, hugging his knees, trying to block Ghost out, block everything out.

Sometimes you forget the scars of old memories, old wounds, people and places lost to time. Sometimes something reminds you, and makes them ache and sting and hurt. He wasn’t even sure what it was that triggered the sudden, fast onset of sorrow, but something about hanging out with Crow triggered something lonely and sad deep inside him, and it crawled back up out of the pit he’d previously shoved it down into, grabbed his heart, and squeezed. It squeezed tighter than he could bear, claws deeper than he could handle at the moment.

The tears set upon him before he could start drowning himself in whiskey.

And now here he was – vulnerable in front of some weird little machine that stared at him from below the bottom shelf.

Ghost slowly left his defensive position, floating scarcely two or three inches above the floor as he traveled towards Ardwynn. He stopped a foot away, looking up at him.

“Ardwynn?” He was prepared to flit away again, should Ardwynn lash out once more. He was pleased to find Ardwynn simply didn’t respond, remaining curled up, face buried. “… I’ll go if you want me to go, but I just want you to know, I’m here, if you need me. I might not have shoulders you can cry on, or arms that can hold you, but… I can listen. Or I can just… be here, in the room, if that’s what you need.” He was met with a silence that was thick and pained. It said enough. He waited a second or two more before turning to float away, and let Ardwynn have his space.

“Stay.” It was muffled and soft, but the reply did eventually come from Ardwynn, causing Ghost to pause. He blinked before returning to Ardwynn. Instead of maintaining space between them, he closed the gap, gently pressing his shell into the Awoken’s shoulder.

He saved the report for the morning.

[lawassociate45]

Ontario Public Service Careers Ontario Public Sector Careers

For The Sake Of The Children parenting program is now obtainable online! Domestic violence further complicates the scene, and the courtroom has to think about much more. Primarily, a choose is obliged to make a decision that's in the most effective interest of the guardianship trust kid. If you are applying to become the guardian of a Siksika youngster or kids, please keep in thoughts that the Government of Alberta’s Child, Youth and Family Enhancement Act has standards in place to help protect and shield Siksika culture.

So lengthy as there have been no clear indicators of abuse, the third party can be entitled to depend on the agreement and maintain the individual responsible. It could be for the person to seek redress from the supporter should there be duress or undue affect. The LCO is anxious that such an method could alternatives to guardianship go away many victims of monetary abuse with little practical remedy. Further, whereas it might shield the third get together from legal responsibility, the third party might still be unable to implement the contract, because it may be discovered to be unconscionable.

While attorneys and other professionals typically suggest the making of a Will for property planning functions, the less well-known however equally important function of a Will is the appointment of a guardian on your children within the case of incapacity or demise. Under the Family Law Act, the concept of guardianship includes the rights and responsibilities of caring for and raising a toddler. The rights and responsibilities of guardianship usually belong to folks, but may also be granted to an individual of the guardian’s selecting in the case of incapacity or death, including a member of the family or friend. For many, the duty of appointing an alternate guardian for one’s children is not one which they wish to think about. There is often a misconception that the place each mother and father become incapacitated or die, a surviving family member will take over care of the kid. Unfortunately, though this is often the eventual outcome, the method earlier than this result's reached can be a bit extra complicated.

Records allegations on OPGT knowledge base to make sure correct, steady data. Sometimes guardianship can put an finish to the conflict as a result of it forces everyone to craft a particular plan tailored for the incapable particular person's best interests. And it results in a final dedication once guardianship alternatives and for all about who gets to make sure selections. Finally, being a guardian is a major responsibility and there are authorized penalties if the duties of a guardian are not upheld. So as soon as somebody is a guardian, there is formal accountability in place - and a formal complaints course of.

This might help grownup adoptees and start mother and father reunite in some circumstances. We will provide you with objective and knowledgeable explanations of the various adoption strategies out there and assist you to develop a plan that fits your family. This includes making sure you perceive your rights and how numerous legal guidelines could impact you.

If mother and father have joint custody, then it is up to the guardian who is making the appliance to show that a change of name is in one of the best pursuits of the child. This signifies that the onus is totally different than in a sole guardianship situation. In a joint guardianship scenario, the guardian who wants to vary the child’s name must have proof that the change is in the best interests of the child. The evaluators use a mixed-method strategy, integrating quantitative and qualitative data collected by way of a quantity of sources of proof.

One widespread and troubling misunderstanding is the assumption that the personal care SDM has a broad authority to restrict access to the individual. The LCO has heard that long-term care or retirement residence personnel might inappropriately facilitate such denials of access. In its submission, ARCH Disability Law Centre advocates a transfer in the direction of supported decision-making, to deliver Ontario’s system into closer compliance with the General Comment’s interpretation of Article 12. Although mother and father have significant power when appointing a guardian under their wills, they must remember the appointment is momentary, and it’s finally up to the court docket to decide on permanent guardianship.

Usually a Will permits your Executor to make use of professional assist in the occasion that they need it, and this might be paid for out of the property. You should not think of making a Will as a once-in-a-lifetime event. You ought to all the time have a Will in place that reflects your present scenario. You should write your first Will as soon as you are an adult, after which replace it throughout your life as your circumstances change.

The difference in whether the person is definitely making the decision or someone else is acting as an intermediary ought to be reflected in legal accountability constructions. Where a call is being made via this kind of empathetic inference, the individual carrying out this train must be conscious that they are enterprise a significantly morally freighted activity and that the obligations on them are excessive. Further, the individual at the centre should not be left to solely undergo the legal penalties. That is, authorized accountability constructions ought to mirror, as intently as potential, the actual decision-making process.

Some other jurisdictions have moved to switch the terminology of “substitute decision-maker”. Under the Mental Capacity Act of England and Wales, the Court of Protection appoints a “deputy” to make essential decisions. Given the challenges of implementation and the low levels of curiosity, the LCO has not additional explored the inclusion of formal co-decision-making mechanisms in Ontario regulation. There is a preference for shut relationships in the appointment of substitute decision-makers. While most techniques make some provision for appointment of institutions special needs guardianship or professionals the place no household or associates are available to tackle this function, there is a preference for shut relationships as the foundation of the role. Co-decision-making – Sharing decision-making with an grownup who requires some assistance because of a lack of capability but can make choices with assist.

[rainofaugustsith]

SWTOR: On "too easy"

I keep seeing posts elsewhere from "serious gamers" saying "waaah, they nerfed the game, IT'S TOO EASY NOW." I keep seeing posts from people who seem to think the only way to "save" SWTOR is to make it really difficult. And posts that cast judgment on those who prefer a more laid-back approach. 

I can't stand that. Truly, one of the worst things about gaming is some of the playerbase. 

I fully believe that where possible, content should have story/veteran/NiM modes available, the way KOTFE, KOTET and the non-story flashpoints do. If someone's idea of fun is to run every single thing with extreme difficulty, and that's what they get a charge from, let them at it...as long as it doesn't mean everyone else has to play that way too. That's where these discussions usually go off the rails, since these folks seem to think that everyone should play at an arbitrary high standard they deem acceptable. 

A lot of different types of players love SWTOR. Some really do want NiM all the time. Others want to decorate strongholds or dress their characters. Some are all about story. Some love the group aspect and always want to play with guildies or friends; others steer clear of all interaction with other players. Some do a mix of all of the above. Some avoid certain activities at all costs. 

I'm a solo story player. For me, extreme challenge isn't fun. It's usually enough to get me to quit. It's not fun for me to die over and over in a game or to struggle with complicated mechanics where one misstep means death. I hate things like the Onderon datacrons. I felt that Spirit of Vengeance was originally tuned way too high and had way too many mobs, even though I was fully able to finish it. 

I've gone in and done some more difficult things like Dread Seeds and veteran flashpoints solo because I wanted to see the content and complete those missions. If the entire game was tuned like the last Dread Seeds mission or those veteran flashpoints, I'd likely leave in about two seconds. In the longterm, it's not pleasant for me. It's physically painful, it's boring and I don't find it relaxing or fun.

No one playstyle is "correct" or "normal." They all are. What's abnormal is when someone insists everyone has to play a certain way. What would I say to those gatekeepers whining about content being too easy? 

The story content isn't getting people ready for endgame. 

So? 

You're assuming everyone wants to play endgame content. They don't. There's nothing Bioware could do, say or bribe me with that would get me into things like Ops, ranked PvP, PvP at all, PUGs or Master Mode flashpoints. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I am here for the story. Period. 

A training ground for endgame content exists in the form of flashpoints. The flashpoints in the game do get progressively tougher. If someone's truly interested in getting raid-worthy skills they're likely going to be doing solo flashpoints. And using groupfinder or joining a guild that works to help players progress. There are options, and those who are interested in raids will seek them out. 

But the story is so easy. It's a faceroll. Games are about challenge.  

Challenge means different things to different people.

Everyone has different abilities. You might roll through every flashpoint. The next player might die seven times just getting through the first tomb on Korriban. By the way, I'm "next player." I think my first toon may have kicked the bucket before even getting into Ajunta Pall's tomb. The word "easy" is very, very relative. 

Also, for some of us, easier content is relaxing and fun. The same way some people like a leisurely bicycle ride along the bike path and others train for the Tour de France. 

If challenge for you involves very difficult gameplay, it does exist. Go join a NiM guild for raids. Go play ranked PvP. Play another game. Why does everyone else need to play the way you play? 

People aren't grouping. They should be forced to group. 

Because you think they should? What gives you any right to dictate how other people play or who they play the game with? Are you the National Gaming Czar and nobody told us? 

This "grouping should be compulsory!" belief is bullshit. People who want to group WILL group. That's always been the case. Hell, I remember being a kid and playing single player console games with friends. We'd take turns, cheer each other on, and yell out advice to the person playing. We found a way to play in a group because we wanted to. 

Right now, the people in SWTOR there are guilds and healthy incentives to join them. Right now, the people in SWTOR who want to play with a friend or friends can do that. Even in things like class stories or KOTFE where it only progresses for one person, they can still come along and help. There are multiple opportunities in the game for players to meet each other. There are social media sites where they can do the same. There's group finder. There are people who look for groups on the fleet. There are PvP and GSF where they can play against others. 

Bottom line? Anyone who wants to group has multiple ways to accomplish that at this very moment. 

Those who aren't grouping likely do not want to group. They don't have to explain why. If you force them to group one of two things will probably happen: they will do it and hate every second of it and not want to be there, or they will stop playing. Which is more likely? Well, I'm sure we've all finished Oricon, Iokath and Macrobinoculars, right? Oh wait...

This is a game. It's not supposed to be like a job where you have coworkers you detest and still have to interact with them. It's not some life skill. It's. A. Game. Get over it if people don't want to play with you.   There should always be open world PvP. Sure, if you want a mass exodus from the game in about a day. The minute they make open world PvP non-optional or make PvP content compulsory is the day I stop playing. And I don't think I'm alone there. I feel like this comment usually comes from people who are frustrated that others don't accept their duel requests and that there isn't a huge pool of players for PVP matches. They can't get people to play with them voluntarily so they want to force it. And you should be able to tag a mob someone else is working on. I keep seeing this brought up as an ideal in other games. It seems to be a way to force people to group with you even if they've said no to an invite. You know what will happen with this? You'll have players hitting the mob once and getting credit/loot without any effort. Or you will have players following around other players to "share mobs" with them even when that other player wants to be left alone. I'm of the opinion that any type of group play should be consensual in all cases, not forced on players because they happen to be in open world.

*sigh* It's an MMO. 

And? MMO doesn't mean "group all the time" or even some of the time. It means a lot of players are co-existing in a shared online world. It means the ability to group should exist - and it does. 

People come into group content and don't know what to do. 

#1: Everyone starts somewhere. We all know that you were so miraculously gifted that you came out of the womb knowing advanced mechanisms for every boss fight, but most of us didn't. 

#2. If you want to play strictly with a team of veteran players, join a guild, make some friends in the game and have fun. That's a lot more realistic than expecting random players in a PUG or groupfinder to meet whatever your exacting specifications are. 

#3. Blame the devs for forcing players into Groupfinder to complete Galactic Seasons and other objectives. There are plenty of people who wouldn't be there if that weren't the case. 

People come into flashpoints and want to watch the cut scenes. 

Hang on. Let me process this. In a story based game, players want to watch the cut scenes? For real? That's completely unreasonable! /sarcasm

In the latest flashpoints, they've more or less removed all the cut scenes. You have your wish granted. For the older flashpoints, there are still many that don't have solo/story mode. The only way people can see those cut scenes is in veteran or master. If you have an issue with this, start advocating to the devs to make solo story versions of those flashpoints.  I feel like the bottom line is that everyone has the right to ask for the type of gaming experience they want, but they don't have the right to insist everyone else should share that experience.

[sonnetthebard]

This is kind of a crack idea, but I don't really care and I'm throwing it out anyway

Curt and Owen have to go undercover in a show for a mission(keeping an eye on one of the members of the cast maybe?). The show? Either Spies are Forever or a Hatchetfield show, take your pick -S

S anon... you have been waiting a while for this, and I apologize. With Headless, I needed a moment to recharge. So this is going to be a Modern! SAF fic. And as a treat, we're going original cast in an AU. That's right folks. Extra meta content. You asked for crack, you're gonna get crack. Please note: Most of the stories pertaining to the real people involved in this oneshot are made up based on what facts I know about them/ what I’m able to pick up on personalities. I don’t know any of these people personally, though. This is going to be such a ride, so buckle up.

Genre: Comedy/ Action/ Fluff

Words: 5639

TL;DR: Curt and Owen take the stage in order to monitor Chimera and one of their operatives. The thing is, they only have a vague clue as to who they're going after: he was one of the writers.

TW: Swearing, Guns, Fighting- But not much, this is mostly just gonna be a joke.

_________________________________________________

"Next we have... Curt Mega?" The longer-haired one read off, looking at Curt. "Cool name! We might have to use that- if, of course, that's okay with you."

"Oh... yeah, that's fine." Curt chuckled softly.

What, precisely, was Curt doing? Only the thing he'd vowed to Owen that he would never do (other than, of course, leave him): auditioning for a musical. Owen was a total theatre kid, and he'd done his share of musicals. Curt was always in the audience, but he'd jokingly told Owen that he would never be joining him up there. But... here he was. In an audition room. Curt never broke promises, not even joke ones. But these were... extenuating circumstances. In other words, this was for a mission and he had no doubt that Cynthia would actually kill him if he didn't follow through with his orders. Owen gave him a sly, triumphant smirk from across the room, where he was waiting for his audition. Curt got up, following the guy back further into the studio where they were holding auditions.

This mission was an odd one. It was monitoring a potential operative with Chimera Worldwide. Sure, they had the world by storm now- but A.S.S. was getting intel telling them that they might be breaching the privacy rights of people all over the world. In fact, Chimera may be a lot more criminal than they would seem to the naked eye. There was evidence coming to light of plots that could very well end in world domination. The worst part: apparently they were pretty plausible. One world government, puppeted by Chimera. That's why MI6 had sent Owen, and A.S.S. had sent Curt. They were their best agents, and a duo that had proven to work well together.

What did all of that have to do with a musical? To the average joe, nothing. Oh, Chimera had done well. They'd even declined to offer these guys a production grant so as to not seem shady. But... the A.S.S. had reason to believe that one of the writers and producers for the show that they were about to audition for was an operative for Chimera. Now, this play in and of itself may be an independent project. It may have nothing to do with Chimera. But... it was looking like the easiest way to monitor this operative, and so here Curt and Owen were. Owen was thrilled! He loved doing shows. He usually had to slot them into his schedule carefully, though. He couldn't do them during missions. So a mission where he was doing theatre was basically a dream come true for him.

Curt and Owen had chosen roles according to their experience with theatre. Curt had chosen to keep his name as his theatrical stage name, and Owen already did keep his name as a stage name. It was risky, but it also provided their names with a solid cover in the world outside of espionage. Owen had a legitimate resume built. That was why he was going for the lead, currently named 'JB' for 'James Bond' (subject to change). Curt, on the other hand, had stolen his resume from another actor named Curt Mega (who had fully agreed to that and signed an NDA and luckily enough happened to look like Curt). He had literally no acting experience, so he was going for a smaller role: The Informant and Ensemble. Both would likely have eyes on different parts of the production process and the cast. Hopefully they'd get a good idea of what was going on and who their target was. Maybe they'd even get to eliminate the threat! That was Curt's favourite part of missions.

"So, Curt... you did Glee?" The guy who had initially called him asked as they walked.

"Yep!" Curt lied.

"I recognize you! You were one of the Warblers- nice job on that solo in Uptown Girl, by the way." The man chuckled. Oh good. He was passable as the other Curt Mega. "I did Glee too. I was only there for, like, an episode though. But my buddy Darren... well, you probably know him."

"Yeah. He did a phenomenal job as Blaine." Curt smirked. Darren was also on an NDA. The government was being extremely careful.

"I'm Joey Richter. Me and my friends Brian and Corey wrote this show." The man introduced himself, extending his hand. Curt took it, giving him a firm shake. Joey smirked. "Damn... you've got a good shake."

"Thanks." Curt chuckled. He liked this guy. It was hard to imagine right now that he could be talking to an agent for one of the greatest evils known to man since... probably the Nazis. "I'm Curt... I mean, you know that, I just..."

"Yeah, I get it." Joey chuckled along with him. They walked into a room. Inside there were four other men. Two sat behind a table, Curt's supposed 'resume' and headshots laid out in front of them, a stack of papers on the side. Two other men shared a piano bench stationed by a keyboard. None of them were dressed particularly formally. Actually, they were all dressed pretty similarly to Curt. Short-sleeved patterned button-ups were about as formal as it got. So Curt and his black, white and gold striped short-sleeved button-up were in good company. "Hey, guys! This is Curt!"

"Hey! Welcome to the auditions for Spies are Forever!" One of the men behind the table smiled brightly. God, all of these men looked... so innocent. Curt couldn't see any of them being traitors to their country, much less mankind.

"Okay, so that's Brian. The guy beside him is Corey." Joey introduced. Corey waved. "The two guys at the piano bench are Clark and Pierce, our composers and band."

"Hey, Curt." Clark smirked.

"You brought your sixteen bars?" Pierce checked.

"Yep." Curt nodded, popping his 'p' and passing him the binder with his sheet music in it.

He'd brought Being Alive from Company, which Owen said was "such a cliche" and "a terrible choice for a comic show", but it was the song Curt felt most comfortable singing. So he was singing it anyways. Owen was very adamant that Curt had to be careful to actually be cast in the show, but Curt held that that song was his best chance. Curt had always thought he was an okay singer. He had his range that he shined in, and he used that. He never performed though. He wasn't that good. That's why he was going for a mostly non-singing role. He went over his cut with Clark, who was actually the one who would be playing for him. Then he cleared his throat, took a deep breath and gave it the old college try.

The odd thing, Curt thought, was that they seemed very into it. Either they were being very nice to him or they were genuinely enjoying the performance. Curt was a bit surprised by that. Owen was the performer among the two of them. Curt supposed it could just be the song. But then... something else unexpected happened. They asked Curt to do his cold read as 'JB'... and change the name to his own. 'Agent Curt Mega'. It was all getting a bit real for Curt. They liked him. And they liked his cold read. They were laughing during his cold read- and at all the right times! Curt was very confused. This wasn't where he was supposed to shine. He walked out of the audition room, and Owen was called in.

Owen really could not have come out sooner. Curt was anxious. What had he just done? He had given it his best because he thought that the best that could get him was ensemble. Was it going to get him more? Was he ready for more? He was past the point of no return, but... God, what had he just done? Owen came out of his audition, smug and content with himself. Apparently they'd asked him to read multiple sides. Curt hadn't the heart to tell him they'd asked him to read for the lead. A few days passed. Curt almost forgot that he'd even auditioned. That it had been so successful. Basking in the California sun could do that to you. But three days later, it all came back to him all too vividly.

"Curt, I got the email!" Owen announced from where he was lazing on the couch across from Curt in their hotel room. He sat up quickly, eager.

"What does it say?" Curt asked eagerly, sitting up with him. Owen scrolled down on his phone.

"Well... I'm in the show..." Owen furrowed his brows. "But... not in the role I thought. I got Deadliest Man Alive."

"Oh." Curt frowned. "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted the lead."

"It seemed like a juicy part." Owen hummed, still a bit dazed by the rejection. "I was looking forward to it."

"I know, babe." Curt sighed, getting up and wrapping his partner in a hug. "Maybe this one will be even juicier!"

"Maybe..." Owen nodded. "Thank you, love. For trying to make me feel better."

"Yeah, no problem!" Curt smiled softly.

"Did you get your email?" Owen asked.

"I... haven't checked." Curt admitted.

"Well go on, then! Sit! We'll check together!" Owen urged him. Curt sighed, sitting beside him and opening his email. Owen peered over his shoulder. The email from the Tin Can Bros was the first one that popped up right at the top. "Open it, Curt!"

"Okay..." Curt chuckled nervously, pressing the email to open it. He scrolled down, sighing in relief. "I got in, O."

"Congratulations!" Owen cheered, grinning. he was genuinely happy for Curt, and excited to be in the same show. "What role?"

"Let me scroll down..." Curt chuckled, before his heart stopped. Naturally, his laughter stopped with it, and his face fell.

"Love, what is it?" Owen furrowed his brows, concerned by the sudden mood shift. Immediately, his mind went to the worst-case scenario. "Curt, is there anything in there indicating that we might be compromised?"

"No..." Curt shook his head, staring at the role.

"Then... darling, what's wrong?" Owen blinked, before looking over his shoulder. His face fell to a state of shock almost equal to Curt's when he read the words, bolded on the screen: We would like to offer you the role of 'JB', renamed Agent Curt Mega. "Oh..."

_________________________________________________

Rehearsals for Spies Are Forever were potentially one of the best times Curt had ever had. Everyone loved him! Apparently, his voice was much better than he'd given himself credit for, as was his acting. Even Owen admitted it. It turned out Curt was perfect for the role. The songs fit right for him, the personality was spot on... the spy was even gay! It was as though it was written specifically for him to perform. Curt truly was having the time of his life. And Owen was loving the role of Deadliest Man Alive. It turned out it was a significantly juicier role than Curt's- funny, dark. And he even had a minor side comedic role to take on, Dick Big. So he could flex his chops in different area. There was a bit of a minor complication with the characters, though.

It turned out Curt's was not the only name that they'd liked. The Tin Can Bros had thought Owen's name was absolutely perfect... for Curt's partner turned villain. Romantic partner turned villain, to boot. They liked the ship name Curtwen. Ironically, both Owen and Joey were playing versions of Agent Owen Carvour- Owen playing him when he was in disguise as Deadliest Man Alive, Joey playing him out of disguise. Owen didn't make a fuss- he couldn't in the position he was in. But he didn't like being portrayed that way, or his name being used that way. The truth was, Owen had used to be morally grey. He'd had a phase where he'd almost betrayed his country and Curt. He'd very nearly done some terrible things. He wouldn't way who for, but Owen had implied it might have been Chimera. But he and Curt had worked through that, and he saw the error of his ways. It hurt seeing his name associated with villainy again. But for the sake of the mission, he literally could not complain.

As for the mission, they weren't really getting too far yet- and that wasn’t for lack of effort. As hard as finding a balance between rehearsal and espionage was, they’d managed to find a routine and stick to it. The work they were doing really should have been productive for them. They'd bugged all three writers and the two composers, but HQ (who was monitoring those so that the boys could focus on rehearsing so that they didn’t become too suspicious) was saying that they'd not gotten any suspicious activity from those except for Joey constantly being with an unidentified girl. But it seemed like that was his girlfriend and not another operative. So either this operative was smart and onto them or taking a hiatus from their work. Background checks were pretty clean. They were going purely off their interactions with these writers, which wasn’t really helping. All five of them were lovely. All five of them were also extremely smart. And all five of them had acting experience. Right now, though... Joey, Clark and Pierce weren't their main suspects. Joey was just too genuine to be bad, as were Pierce and Clark. Plus, if we're looking at technicalities (as Owen tended to), Clark and Pierce were composers, not writers. It was between Brian and Corey- unless something changed. Truly, it was anyone's game.

Owen and Curt were on break. It had been a hard day of rehearsal so far. Curt had just had to rehearse his pseudo-love-song with Mary Kate (who was lovely, but he was a bit jealous of- Owen had called her 'gorgeous' on multiple occasions now), and though it wasn't physically or musically demanding it was hard not to just start laughing. Especially with Curt, a gay man who had experienced this before. And Lauren played his meddling mother during the song, which only made it harder not to laugh. His own mother had no idea what he did or who he was seeing, and it was better that way. She just thought he was a single banker. He liked Lauren’s version of his mom better. She was way funnier. It had taken a bit of time just to get a run in where Curt wasn't giggling the entire time. The song was just so well written! He knew it was so unprofessional (and Owen had certainly reminded him of that) but he couldn't help it! And the Bros were laughing with him, so it was all good. He was glad to be on break, because his sides were killing him. He scrolled through his phone, checking for anything from HQ, before he felt a hand on his back.

"You know, Curt, I don't know if I've told you this lately but you're really, really great!" Joey told him.

"Thanks, man." Curt chuckled. "Thanks for the opportunity!"

"Thank you for coming out for our show!" Joey smirked. His voice dropped to a lower volume. “Listen... you and Owen are dating, right?”

"Yeah..." Curt furrowed his brows. He and Owen had chosen to be open about that. They were all pretty supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. The actor playing Susan and The Informant had even confessed to him that they thought they might be nonbinary- maybe even female leaning. 

"Okay, so for the whole anniversary thing..." Joey fidgeted a bit nervously. "I mean... I've got an anniversary coming up, and, like, it's not my first, but... I think I’ve used every trick in the dating book at this point, and-"

"Wait, you're dating?" Curt blinked.

"Oh! Right, you're new!" Joey started to laugh. "Um... yeah! It's me and Lo."

"You and Lauren?" Curt smirked. He chuckled. "I knew it!"

"We're not public about the relationship yet, though, so... keep it quiet?" Joey pleaded.

"Oh yeah, you're safe." Curt assured him.

"So... any ideas?" Joey asked. “I really want this to be special for her.”

"Have you guys done the beach yet?" Curt offered. "Like, just a picnic- something you both love to eat- out on the beach."

"Yeah, did that two years ago." Joey sighed.

"Alright... how about a museum?" Curt offered. "It can be any museum that has something the two of you could bond over. But... I mean, Owen is super into experiencing art together."

"That we haven't done... not by ourselves on a date." Joey considered. "It doesn't even really have to be art, does it?"

"Nah, that's the beauty of museums! There are museums out there for everything." Curt smirked. “Maybe you two could go to a movie museum.”

"That’s probably more our speed.” Joey chuckled. “Thanks, man!”

"No problem.” Curt winked playfully. Then, he got an idea. He trusted Joey, so hopefully this worked. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

"I mean, I kinda owe you one." Joey chuckled. “Ask away!”

"Have you noticed anyone... acting a bit weird? Like... different from the way they usually do." Curt whispered.

"I... think I know who you mean." Joey nodded. "With Mary Kate... I think she honestly just misses Sean, you know? The rehearsals are a long time for her to be away from him. Those two are so close."

"Yeah... yeah, that must be hard on her." Curt hummed sympathetically. That... wasn't what he'd been going for.

"But I don't know what's going on with Brian." Joey confided in him. "I mean, it's not like he's been acting weird, per se, but... I mean, he always used to be down to just hang after work. But recently, he's been too busy to do that? I honestly thought it was just me who was picking up on that, but like... you're noticing it too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Curt lied, all the sympathy he could muster in his tone. Bingo. He'd just gotten some really, really good intel there. If there was anyone who would be able to know when one of the writers was acting shady, it was Joey. They were his best friends. And Curt tended to agree with Joey anyways. Corey just didn’t give off villain vibes. Neither did Brian, but out of the two of them, Brian gave off more. “Glad it’s not just me.”

"What's he saying about me?" Brian rolled his eyes playfully, approaching his bag from behind them to grab something. Shit. He must have heard his name. 

"Uh..." Joey blushed.

"Oh, he was just telling me about how you two met." Curt lied. Joey gave him a questioning look. But Curt remembered him mentioning it in another one of his longwinded vents. "U of Michigan, Freshmen year. You two got into a lot of trouble."

"He's not telling you any of the bad stuff, is he?" Brian teased.

"Nah, man- I respect the bro code!" Joey scoffed playfully. Curt gave Joey a wink, and Joey gave him a grateful look in return. The wink hadn't gone unnoticed by Brian though.

"Oh god, he is telling you the bad stuff, isn't he?" Brian groaned playfully. "Listen, if Lauren asks, none of it was us."

"Oh don't worry... I'm great with secrets." Curt chuckled. He kinda wanted context now. Knowing those two, it was nothing serious- Joey had a heart of gold. He wouldn't be involved in anything bad. Especially not with his soon-to-be-girlfriend. So probably pranks, or other such shenanigans.

"Guys... I already knew it was you." Lauren rolled her eyes. None of them had noticed her by her own rehearsal bag picking up her water bottle. "It was so obvious... I may have believed you when you blamed Holden like... once? Twice? But you literally signed off half of the time."

"We did?" Joey blinked, looking at Brian.

"Okay, look, some of the time... I was pretty proud of our work." Brian defended himself.

"Dude!" Joey started to snicker. "And here I was keeping secrets from my girlfriend for you!"

"Sorry, Joey." Brian winced. 

“Eh, I guess I have to forgive you.” Joey rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re my best friend.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Lauren asked, noticing a pink piece of paper sticking out of Curt’s rehearsal bag. Curt blushed profusely. That was the letter Owen had written to pick him up. he took it everywhere with him in case he panicked so that he could read it, remember those days and calm down. It helped. He’d meant to keep it hidden. 

“Oh... it’s nothing.” Curt lied. 

“It’s not nothing, is it?” Lauren smirked. She gave him a genuine look. “Is it personal?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too bad.” Owen chuckled. Curt blushed further, feeling Owen wrap his arms around his waist. When had he gotten there?”

“What’s going on over here?” Corey asked, joining them. It seemed they had formed a rather large clump. 

“I think Lauren might be about to read the first letter I ever wrote to Curtis.” Owen smirked triumphantly, clearly not embarrassed by that prospect. 

“Ooooo romantic!” Tessa teased Curt. When had she shown up? God, for a spy, Curt was not very observant. He took a brief look at his surroundings. Ah. Everyone was there. Fantastic. 

“Oh hell yeah I am!” Lauren smirked. She plucked the paper out of Curt’s bag. 

“Oh god...” Curt groaned. 

“You okay with this?” Corey checked with Curt. Curt nodded reluctantly. 

“I mean, as long as O is.” Curt sighed, relenting.

With that, Lauren used the rest of their break to overdramatically read out Owen’s letter. Curt was a blushing mess, and Owen was grinning like an idiot. Evidently he was proud of himself- as he should have been. It was a good letter. At least Curt and Owen now had an idea of who to look into: Brian Rosenthal. It was a bit odd to think that Brosenthal might be a Chimera operative. He was a funny, quirky... he didn’t seem ruthless enough. Maybe they were wrong. But this was literally all the intel they could get at the moment. Mind you, they needed concrete evidence before they could actually do anything, but... at least they had a lead. Even if it was a weird one. The thing about espionage was that leads were usually weird. So they... well, they managed to bug all of the writers’ houses a bit more to give HQ more to work with, but especially Brian’s. That way the minute they had solid evidence, they could act. Well... not the minute. More like within about twenty minutes. But same difference. There was nothing else they could do. 

________________________________________________

Nothing happened through the rest of the rehearsal process. Literally nothing. No one did anything suspicious. Honestly, Curt and Owen were starting to think that their superiors were wrong. They were performing their shows- with excellent reception, might they add. People were loving Curt. The real Curt Mega was getting huge acclaim on Curt’s behalf. And the fans... well they were going mad. It was looking like the show would be a huge success- which meant two things. One, Curt was going to have to do more theatre. Cleary he was good at it. Two, his life as a spy was about to get more... complicated. IT turned out these guys had a bit of a cult following because they had been involved with a theatre group called Team Starkid? Curt knew about them from his mission briefing, but honestly he’d never thought that they were that big of a deal. When he’d confessed that to Owen he’d gotten a long lecture. Apparently Owen was also a fan, and that was half of why he was so excited to be doing this show. But that was a topic for another time. 

It was about the third show in when they finally got the evidence they had been looking for. It... was not when they’d planned to find anything. Actually, it was at the least convenient time. Between acts. It was also in the least expected way. Curt had to get his props for the top of Act Two. Owen decided to go with him, mostly to make sure he wasn’t a total and utter child. Honestly, they just meant to get their props before places. They were the only ones in that area backstage- the stagehands were resetting the stage and helping with costume changes/ tech issues. Well, they thought they were the only ones backstage. They should have been. But it turns out that someone else had anticipated the lack of people, and was using that to his advantage. At first, all Curt and Owen could hear were murmurs- not distinguishable in the slightest. Bey both gave each other a look before pulling out their real guns (which they hid on their costumes just in case) and following the sound. And that was when they saw him. The culprit behind all of this: Bri- Corey Lubowich? They lowered their guns a bit, staying dead quiet. That wasn’t what they’d been expecting. {erhaps this was a false alarm. 

“I am in the middle of a- no, I get that my work with you is important! Believe me, I know!” Corey hissed. “I just... tonight is one of my shows! I’m going on as the Prince! I- well can it wait half an hour? I mean I’d prefer two hours, but if I have to whip out my laptop backstage, I- well I’m kinda insisting on- come on, you guys know my theatre is important to me!”

“Okay... so we were wrong...” Owen whispered. 

“We don’t know that...” Curt reasoned. “It could be his family.”

“Of course I’m loyal! When have I not done what you said? I have sacrificed so much for you!” Corey fumed quietly. “Chimera is my life now! Not theatre, not my family or friends. Chimera! Do you know how fucking weird that is for someone my age?! I’m too young for all this corporate shit! No! No, of course that’s not what I’m saying just- can I have my night? Come on, this is really important.”

“Okay, I take that back.” Curt blinked, stunned. He was just a bit too loud. Corey’s head snapped in their direction, and both men raised their guns. Corey’s eyes fumbled, and he pulled out a gun of his own, haphazardly aiming it at them. 

“Okay... shit, guys, I’m going to have to call you back... we’ve got a situation.” Corey muttered. His face fell and he rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “No, not a theatre situation. An us situation. I’ll fill you in- look, they have guns. Just- I really don’t have the time for this anymore- NOT MY JOB WITH YOU! This conversation! Jesus, I’ve got two guns pointed at me! Let me go! Okay, fine! Bye!”

“You...” Curt spat, glaring at Corey. 

“You guys finally figured it out...” Corey sighed, raising his gun fully at them. 

“You know who we are?” Curt blinked. 

“How?” Owen asked him coldly. 

“Chimera has eyes and ears everywhere.” Corey rolled his eyes. “Just like in the show. I knew you were coming, and I knew you were looking for me. I just didn’t think you’d actually find me.”

“Are you insulting our intelligence?” Owen scoffed. 

“No. I just thought I set up Brian pretty well.” Corey admitted. “It was pretty easy, too... all I had to do was point out to Joey that Brian wasn’t coming to as many of our hangouts as he used to. You trusted Joey. Joey relayed that to you. Threw you completely off my scent.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just the friend of the year.” Curt rolled his eyes. “You threw your bro under the bus.”

“You’re lucky we didn’t get a false tip-off and eliminate him.” Owen hummed in agreement. “You’ve no clue the kinds of things that could set our superiors off.”

“Well... It’s Brian. The chances of him doing anything sketchy are slim to none.” Corey reasoned. 

“Corey, I’m going to need you to put that gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Curt sighed. 

“Alright, guys, places!” Joey called out to them. Everyone was backstage- except, oddly, Lauren (who was usually pretty punctual on cues). Shit. Their timing was awful. “You can play with the... are those our prop guns?”

“No... those are too modern.” Brian furrowed his brows, approaching them to get a closer look. He blinked before stumbling back. “Holy shit, guys... are those real guns?”

“Yes, they are... and you’re going to need to stay back.” Curt told them levelly. “Lubowich, gun down, hands behind your head.”

“We outgun and outman you.” Owen reminded him. The fact that Corey was so reluctant was astounding. “And we have a license to kill if you don’t cooperate.”

“Okay, guys, what the fuck?!” Joey exclaimed. 

“Can we just... put the guns down and talk this out?” Tessa pleaded. 

“No... we can’t.” Curt shook his head. “My name is Agent Curt Mega, American Secret Service. My partner is Owen Carvour, MI6.”

“Our credentials...” Owen muttered, pulling them out with one hand and holding them out to Brian, who was closest. He hesitantly took them. Corey shot Owen while he wasn’t in peak position to shoot him. Curt shot Corey back with no hesitation. Neither shot was fatal, Corey’s hitting Owen in the arm and Curt’s hitting Corey in the shoulder. The impact was enough to make both men stumble back. Owen stayed on his feet, but Corey fell. Curt kept his gun trained on Corey. 

“Holy shit, they’re not lying...” Brian mumbled. 

“Okay, Corey... what the actual fuck, man?!” Joey fumed, definitely feeling a bit betrayed. 

“Corey... why are you fighting the secret service?” Mary Kate asked coolly, trying to be the level-headed one. 

“He works for Chimera.” Curt told them, knowing they might not get a clear response from Corey for a bit. 

“The assholes who wouldn’t fund us?” Brian groaned. Corey grunted in admittance. “Come on, man! This just keeps getting worse and worse!”

“Okay, guys, I’m here. Sorry I took so-” Lauren started, rushing out. She saw the scene playing out and blinked. “Holy fuck! What’s going on?!”

“They’re actual fucking spies, Lo.” Joey hissed. “All three of them.”

“Pretty sure Curt and Owen are the good guys.” Brian added in a whisper. 

“Oh yeah, Curt and Owen are definitely the good guys.” Tessa gulped. 

“Corey is an agent for Chimera.” Curt explained. 

“Please tell me this is an elaborate prank.” Lauren chuckled nervously. 

“No, Lo... this time it’s real.” Joey sighed. 

“Okay, but... Chimera’s just a huge global corporation, right?” Mary Kate reasoned. 

“Not really.” Corey croaked out. 

“They’re plotting world domination.” Owen grunted. 

“Corey...” Joey breathed. 

“World domination makes it sound bad.” Corey grimaced. “We more just want control over every world government... and then maybe to take all of them out and form one Chimera government.”

“That doesn’t make it sound any better.” Tessa winced. 

“Why?” Brian asked Corey, hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

“Honestly, I just needed a bit of extra money in college.” Corey muttered, trying and failing to find his footing. Clearly he wasn’t a field agent too often. 

“So you turned to espionage?!” Lauren scoffed incredulously. 

“Honestly I started as a delivery boy and then I found out some shit I should never have known...” Corey sighed. “It escalated really quickly.”

“God, this is a mess.” Joey groaned. 

“Curt, love, can you give our superiors a ring?” Owen prompted him. “I’ll deal with our former friend here.”

“On it.” Curt nodded, pulling out his phone. 

“So... do we stop the show?” Brian asked Owen as he pulled out a zip-tie- another essential item Owen always kept on him, even in costumes.

“Oh no... the A.S.S. is the epitome of discretion. Believe me, you’ll have no clue what’s going on. Just see if you can find a friend in the audience to go on for The Prince.” Owen told them, tying up Corey and forcing him onto his feet. “Owen will take him outside and... he should honestly be ready to go on after We Love The Prince.”

“Holy shit... okay...” Lauren sighed. 

“I’ll make an announcement that we’re having technical difficulties...” Joey planned. “Let’s, um... just take a moment to breathe and get back into the right headspace.”

“We’ll be back in a moment.” Curt told them as he and Owen took Corey outside. 

“Rot in hell, you asshole!” Brian called after him, sniffing. Was he... crying? You know what, it was completely fair. That was one hell of a betrayal. 

So Curt and Owen passed Corey onto their superiors, and Spies Are Forever was able to go on. They got Nick Lang to play The Prince, which only made the fans more excited. Curt and Owen were allowed the opportunity to finish their run with the show- which Curt was so, so grateful for. He loved theatre. he never thought he would, but he loved it. And Owen loved that he loved it. Spies are Forever was the first of many shows for Curt. He got into the habit, like Owen, of doing shows between missions. In fact, he actually got to make Owen a little jealous later on- he got into a Starkid show. Mind you, they knew who he was. Fully this time. They even supported him- helped him build a public backstory. The real Curt Mega’s wife even played wife to him publicly when she needed to. It was a new start in Curt’s life and one that he hadn’t even known he needed. Finally, everything seemed like it was okay.

[taiblogcomics]

I Can’t Pet Force You To Read This One, But...

Hey there, high school crushes. Well, it's finally here. Can you believe it? Yes, counting from the original Xanga site (which, yes, still counts. It's like our own Golden Age publication or apocryphia), this is our 10th anniversary of reviewing comics. That's fantastic. I'm excited, can't you tell? I can tell, since I'm writing this preamble a good two months before the actual anniverary~

So, last year we reviewed the absolute pile of dreck that is Heroes in Crisis. And while that was worth ripping into, I'd rather not spend the 10th anniversary hating on something. I'd like to do something actually meaningful to me. I've teased about this one for many years, probably for as long as I've been doing this blog, and I think it's time we stopped pussyfooting around and reviewed some Garfield. But not just any Garfield. It's finally time, my friends. This... is Garfield's Pet Force.

I dunno how many people will remember this one. Maybe you recall the direct-to-DVD movie adaptation from 2009, or at least advertising for it. I never saw it, but apparently it differs a bit. They also appeared a few times in those Garfield comics from back in the day. We even reviewed a couple (some were on the Xanga blog). But what we're looking at here are the original novellas published between 1997 and 1999. So yeah, these really are from my childhood. And since I've long espoused that Garfield was always funnier 20 years ago, this must be actual premium Garfield content, yeah? By golly, I hope so, because we got five whole books here today. So we should probably get into them~

Book 1: The Outrageous Origin

This is a classic sort of superhero cover. Standard team shot of poses, and that's fine for a first volume. In fact, that's great. Later editions of this would replace the lightning-filled gradient background with a pure white one, but I have this original version. We'll get to specifics about these characters in the meat of the story, but let's talk about the costumes for a bit. Very classic early-'90s sort of look, before the Dark Age kicked in. Reminds me a lot of Jim Lee's X-Men designs, actually. Making all your characters visually distinct is important in a team book. The heavy lean into secondary colours is unusual for heroic characters, but not unwelcome.

So we actually start with a cold open in the superhero universe. This is pretty much to introduce us to the characters as soon as possible, and thus I'll do the same for you here.

*Garzooka, team leader, super strong, has a razor-sharp claw, and can shoot radioactive hairballs from his mouth. That's... at least a unique power, I don't think anyone on the Justice League can do that~ *Odious, the dumb muscle with the accent on the "dumb". Possibly even stronger than Garzooka, and possessing a "super-stretchy stun tongue", an elastic tongue that can scramble the minds of whoever it adheres to. *Starlena, the team girl. She can fly, and she has a siren song that can put those who hear it into a hypnotic trance. Garzooka is the only one immune to its effects, for reasons that are never explained. *Abnermal, the kid-appeal character. He has ice powers, forcefields, and an ill-defined "pester power" that means he can annoy people on a greater scale than normal folks. It's pretty much only used for comic relief, but that could be a brilliant power in the right hands. *Compooky, the brains of the operation. Other than flight, his powers are limited to super intelligence, which means he's usually the exposition guy. There's probably a reason they left him out of the movie adaptation~

You got all that? Don't worry, we'll introduce you again later in the book. What actually happens in the intro chapter isn't really important, it's just setting up the universe. In fact, it's all taking place within Pet Force #99, a comic just enjoyed by Nermal. Yes, we quickly cut over to the main Garfield universe ("our universe", the narrator calls it), where Pet Force is just a comic book. The Garfield gang is all outside, enjoying a cookout prepared by Jon Arbuckle. Nermal is extremely enthused by his comic book, and brags about how he has all 98 previous issues sealed and polybagged, and this one will soon join them. Sorry, Nermal, this came out in 1997, the speculator boom already went bust~

Garfield dismisses comic books as stupid because you can't eat them or use them as a blanket, and declares that none of the stuff that happens in the comic could possibly happen in real life. Uh oh, irony! Because these things can happen, and do! It's a parallel universe, baby! This might be one of my earliest introductions to a "parallel worlds" concept. Much like Earths 1 and 2 in pre-Crisis DC, the events of the comic are essentially the real life adventures of their super-powered counterparts in another dimension. Most of the action in these stories will take place there~

So here's the setup: Vetvix (the parallel equivalent to Liz the veternarian) is an evil sorceress and scientist, who essentially wants to experiment on animals in peace, and possibly subjugate the universe while she's at it. You could argue that Liz is an odd choice for villain, since our universe's Liz isn't particularly evil. But then, our universe's Garfield isn't particularly heroic either. She operates out of a deadly space station called the Orbiting Clinic of Chaos, and at present she's waiting for the arrival of her henchman, Space Pie-Rat, who is a six-foot-tall anthropomorphic rat dressed in stereotypical pirate getup. Vetvix has just finished inventing a levitation ray, and she'd like Pie-Rat to go out and use it to steal all the food in the universe. Vetvix doesn't think small, is what I'm saying.

The counter to Vetvix is Emperor Jon, ruler of the planet Polyester. He's kind and benevolent, even if he's a little dippy and his fashion sense atrocious. Having gotten wind of Vetvix's latest plan, he contacts Pet Force in their ship, the Lightspeed Lasagna. Upon learning the problem, Pet Force gives chase to Pie-Rat. They eventually corner him on some desolate planet, landing and entering an abandoned factory. Unfortunately, they're not safe amongst the dangerous machinery, because this turns out to be a trap. Vetvix has been busy as hell, because she's also invented a metal that's impervious to their powers. And that's not all, because she's also basically invented the Phantom Zone, where she traps Pet Force forever. It specifically mentions it doesn’t kill them, because it wouldn't be kosher to murder the heroes in a Garfield book~

The Lightspeed Lasagna has both onboard cameras connected to the heroes' belts as well as automatic return protocols, so within two days, Emperor Jon knows exactly what's happened to Pet Force. He needs help, so he calls upon his most trusted and powerful advisor: Binky the Sorceror. Binky's just as loud and obnoxious as in the main universe, but he's also a powerful magician. He conjures up a spell for Emperor Jon that lets him pierce the veil between universes. It's basically Equestria Girls rules: parallel universes have similar characters between them. So to replace Pet Force, they need the nearest genetic equivalents from another universe. And that's the versions of Garfield, Odie, Arlene, Nermal, and Pooky that we know and love~

Back in the main universe, it's another day entirely. Another cookout is taking place, and Nermal has received his special anniversary issue of Pet Force #100. The cover's really special, dripping with '90s cover gimmicks like glow-in-the-dark and embossing. A rarely used one, though, was "portal to another universe". That was pretty expensive to print, so you won't find many comics like Nermal's. Maybe he had something there with the collecting after all. The cover glows, and while Jon is distracted by the grill, Garfield and Friends disappear~

They reappear in Emperor Jon's wood-paneled throne room, now transformed into Pet Force. Emperor Jon and Sorceror Binky try to explain the situation, but Garfield--now Garzooka--is disbelieving of the whole thing. In fact, even the idea that Jon can now hear him talk absolutely floors him. Since he's about to deliver the exposition for everyone, can we talk about Compooky for a minute? This spell has just granted sapience to Garfield's teddy bear. I don't expect deep philosophy from a children's novella, but the ramifications of this are really under-explored. Like, never mind the whole idea of a teddy bear having the same genetic makeup as an alternate universe equivalent. He goes from inanimate object to fully conscious being, and he just rolls with it.

Anyways, once everybody gets caught up on what's going on and accepts the new reality, a training montage ensues so the group can all learn to use their powers without killing each other. Once at least reasonably trained, the reborn Pet Force is sent out to stop Pie-Rat. He's gotten sloppy in the times with Pet Force dead, so they track him down easily. After a brief scuffle where Garzooka takes his eyepatch, Pie-Rat flees in his ship. They follow Pie-Rat back to the Orbital Clinic of Chaos, but they can't go in the front. That led the original Pet Force into a trap. Finding an unguarded maintenance hatch--standard on any big space station--they enter Vetvix's lair for a final confrontation!

After dealing with the Waiting Room of Doom, which slowly fills with outdated magazines, they enter Vetvix's inner sanctum. Frustrated with Pie-Rat's failure, she uses her magic to turn him into an ordinary mouse. Vetvix then attempts to use her same weapon on this new Pet Force, but thanks to story contrivance, it only works on beings born in this universe. As other dimensional visitors already, they can't be banished to another dimension. She then pulls a Dr. Claw and runs off cursing Pet Force's name while her base self-destructs. Vetvix is a very "discard and draw" sort of villain, it seems. Pet Force, of course, makes a harrowing escape just in the nick of time.

Returning to Emperor Jon, they vow to be ready to return whenever they're called on, since evil never stays dormant for long. Odious even gifts Emperor Jon with the mouse-ified Pie-Rat as proof of their victory. Well, I'm glad they remember that, so they didn't accidentally murder a major villain in their first superhero outing. They're returned to their own universe, and the time differential between them places them back with Jon having not had time to even look up from the grill. Garfield begins to doubt the adventure even happened--until that night, when he finds Pie-Rat's eyepatch still on his person. Ah, definitive proof of... eyepatches, I guess~

Book 2: Pie-Rat's Revenge!

You have to wonder where, in a space-faring superhero setting, Pie-Rat got the inspiration for his classic pirate motif. It's a little incongruous is all I'm saying. And hey, remember when I said earlier that Garzooka's purple-and-green colour scheme was odd for a hero? Well, here he is as a villain! That'll catch your eye. This would be a terrific comic cover, which is what you want in a series like this.

The book opens with a brief recap of the previous story's events, then moves into the new plot. See, Emperor Jon has opted to keep the polymorphed Pie-Rat as his pet. How very Ron Weasley of him. That's pretty apt, actually, because similarly Pie-Rat has maintained his intelligence in his new mousey form. Pie-Rat gets sick of being Emperor Jon's pet and plans a daring escape, exploiting the emperor's dimwitted and loving personality against him. Pie-Rat jams the lock with a food pellet and makes his escape that night.

Once free from his cage, he encounters Binky's cauldron, still left in the throne room from when the sorceror summoned Pet Force from Garfield's universe. Figuring he has nothing to lose, Pie-Rat jumps in the leftover brew. Suddenly he finds himself growing. He returns to his original anthropomorphic state--but with a twist. He's now twice his original height, a staggering twelve feet tall. He scoops up the rest of the remaining potion for later, and sneaks out of the palace as best as a 12-foot rat can sneak. Desiring revenge on both his former employer and his longtime foes, he steals Pet Force's ship and makes his escape from the planet, headed for Vetvix's newest base.

After his guards help Emperor Jon put the pieces of the problem together, they decide they must once again call upon the powers of Pet Force to recover their missing vehicle and stop the newly embiggened Pie-Rat. Fortunately, Garfield and friends have been watching movies all weekend, so Jon doesn't notice when his pets disappear from the living room in a bright flash. Of course, once returned to the alternate universe and the situation explained, they still have a problem: how do they give chase to Pie-Rat when he's got their ship?

And speaking of Pie-Rat in their ship, he's followed the trail of a mysterious energy output, and it's led him right to Vetvix's new base, the Menacing Moon of Mayhem. See, this is why you don't blow up your base: the backup base is never as good. if it was, it wouldn't be the backup. Given that it's such a shoddy base, Pie-Rat is easily able to get inside and get close to Vetvix. She's expecting a technological attack, so she's unprepared when he pulls out that vial of magic potion and sprinkles her with it. And naturally, the potion that made him grow 12 feet tall makes Vetvix shrink to 5 inches. It's magic, we don't have to explain it!

Pie-Rat takes the magic crystal that Vetvix uses to fuel her powers, which of course didn't shrink because magic is just bullshit. See previous paragraph's last sentence. And while Pie-Rat takes over the base and begins plotting a further revenge against Pet Force, we cut over to them. They're at Sorceror Binky's own castle, and it's clear he's a bit of a hoarder. This is to their advantage, though, as they eventually piece together a working spaceship out of old car parts and other things, all patched together between Compooky's know-how and Binky's magic. This seems like the sort of book where I could use that "it's magic" quote every other paragraph. But craft a new--if small--ship they do, and speed off in the newly christened Planetary Pizza.

The rickety little ship does eventually find its way to Pie-Rat's base, saving him the trouble of being proactive as a villain. The magic thing keeps happening, and Pie-Rat basically becomes Discord for a bit while he fights them, doing things like turning Starlena's siren song into actual living music notes. One by one, the members of Pet Force are taken out, with only Garzooka is left. He and Pie-Rat struggle, while Pie-Rat tries to aim the magic crystal at Garzooka. Garzooka uses his claw to rip the crystal from Pie-Rat and defeat him.

Unfortunately, here's where the cover comes in. It seems the moments Pie-Rat was focusing the crystal during the struggle affected Garzooka's mind. He puts the crystal around his own neck. which turns him evil. He helps Pie-Rat to his feet, and the pair escape in the Lightspeed Lasagna. While Pet Force pursues them in their ramshackle ship, the new criminal duo strikes the storage planet of Deli to steal their food. Pet Force manages to catch up as the villains celebrate their spoils, and use a magic blast from the systems Binky installed to short out the Lightspeed Lasagna. This enables them to dock with the ship and climb aboard for a contfrontation.

The group fights, and once again the bearer of a bullshit magic crystal subdues the heroes easily. Annoyed now, Garzooka takes hold of Starlena and prepares to kill her or something. She taps into the one thing she has left: she's not fighting just Garzooka, but Garfield in his body. She drops some heavy put-downs, which resonate with Garfield, and he hesitates long enough for her to cut the crystal off him. The crystal hits the floor and shatters, undoing its evil magics on Garzooka's mind as well as on all his teammates. With Pet Force reunited, Pie-Rat is easily subdued and locked up.

The group waits for the ship to power back up, then speed off to apologise to the planet Deli. Following that, they head back towards Vetvix's moonbase. That night, though, the magic that was making Pie-Rat 12 feet tall wears off, and he escapes from his cell. He steals the remaining shards of the crystal, climbs into the Planetary Pizza, and makes a getaway. As a bonus, he also repeats the power-down spell against the bigger ship, giving him ample time to escape. And he's not the only one. Over on the Menacing Moon of Mayhem, Vetvix also returns to her proper size, and abandons this base as well. And when Pet Force fails to find her, they simply return to their own universe, ready to be called on once again in the future~

Book 3: K-Niner: Dog of Doom!

Another very basic comic book-style cover. K-Niner is a much more typical villain in style. This one's actually a wrap-around, and features the rest of Pet Force reacting to K-Niner on the back cover. Which is good because, other than the first cover, the covers all have a heavy Garzooka focus. Which makes sense for a book series, I suppose, you wanna assure the kiddos that Garfield's gonna be in the book. But as a comic book series, this would be a bad look for a team book~

So after our standard introduction and recap, we start off with Vetvix in yet another new base, the Floating Fortress of Fear. I'm sure it's very intimidating, if she can keep hold of it for more than a single book. She's picking up from the epilogue and putting the last touches on K-Niner, mostly enhancing his intelligence. Now, you look at the cover and tell me what kind of voice you'd expect. Some sort of German or Austrian accent, like the doberman on Road Rovers? Does anyone remember Road Rovers~? Anyways, but no: he speaks with a posh British accent. You know, the "I say, good chaps, looks like we're in a bit of a sticky wicket, eh wot?" type. Trust me, you can tell. But just because he sounds refined doesn't mean he's not evil.

I also love that after the initial "trapped them in the Phantom Zone" bit, the villains just go whole ham. K-Niner here demonstrates that he is indeed evil by threatening to rip out Vetvix's throat. Let your villains be villainous is all I'm saying. She's pleased he's so vicious, but feels he needs to learn his place as well. She force-chokes him until he complies. She then gives him his assignment: she thinks dogs should be liberated. The Boy Mayor of Second Life would approve, and so does K-Niner. Turning pets on their masters is just his style.

K-Niner takes a portable evolution gun, and immediately sets off. He begins on the planet Kennel. Isn't it neat how every planet is named after an English word that describes its function? K-Niner quickly takes over the dog population and turns them against their masters, because boosting their intelligence also makes them evil, of course. They use enslavement collars on their former owners, and within a few days, the dogs now run the planet. We cut over to Emperor Jon on Polyester, where a man has crash-landed a ship. He's an escapee from Kennel, and he's here to report the events so we can get the plot moving and once more summon Pet Force!

And summoned once more they are, Garfield and Friends once more conveniently disappearing in a split second while Jon's back is turned (this time they're outside playing volleyball). And once back in the parallel universe, Emperor Jon fills them all in on K-Niner's dastardly doings. Garzooka, naturally, takes great offense to dogs being in charge, and takes his duties as a hero completely seriously for once. Pet Force takes off for a confrontation with K-Niner in the Lightspeed Lasagna. And speaking of Pet Force's ships...

The Planetary Pizza, piloted by Pie-Rat, plants its pads down on polar planet Glacia. Pie-Rat is here seeking a way to restore his magic crystal and regain his mighty magic powers. He's sought out the home of a legendary evil wizard, who's known by the name of... Barfo. I see why Barfo keeps his location a secret. But anyway, Barfo is the one who made the crystal, so naturally Pie-Rat reasons he can restore it as well. Suprisingly once on Glacia, Barfo's evil lair is pretty easy to find. His manservant, Hobart the Gnome, brings Pie-Rat before the wizard, and within moments the crystal is restored! Pie-Rat turns to thank Hobart, but Hobart suddenly turns into Vetvix!

Yes, Vetvix knew all along that Pie-Rat's quest would lead him here. And as she was once Barfo's student in the ways of evil magic, she knew she could get the old coot to go along with her plan. Barfo returns the crystal to Vetvix, restoring her powers. And so Pie-Rat, a recurring villain in three whole books, is unceremoniously done away with, as Vetvix teleports him inside an asteroid, trapping him in solid rock. Even if the asteroid were hollow or he displaced the interior when he teleported in, no doubt he'll suffocate within moments. That's pretty harsh.

With that over, we rejoin Pet Force as they approach Kennel. K-Niner's battle cruiser spots them incoming, and shoots the ship down, even in spite of Abnermal's forcefields. Pet Force bail out of the ship, and Abnermal uses his powers to make snow to cushion their fall. Upon landing, a contingent of mutant animals attack. The mooks aren't much, but K-Niner himself puts up an impressive fight. However, one of the mooks pulls a gun and points it at Compooky. This is why Compooky usually stays aboard the ship, but that wasn't an option. Rather than let their friend get hurt, Pet Force surrenders.

Pet Force is held prisoner separately from Compooky, with both the cell's technology making it freeze-proof and threats of "don't break out, or we'll shoot your compatriot". Their imprisonment is not long, though, as suddenly the power goes out. Pet Force takes advantage of the situation and make their escape, quickly running into Compooky. K-Niner didn't think the hyper-intelligent teddy bear needed a high security cell, and just locked him in the basement. It was easy for him to then break out and shut down the local power grid. This also has the side effect of turning off the control collars the humans were wearing. How convenient!

With control of the planet now tilted in their favour, Pet Force now has time to both fix their ship and reverse the polarity of the brain-boosting weapons, turning the dog population of Kennel back to their normal selves. Though the experience did change the pet owners of Kennel. Having experienced life in their pets' shoes (so to speak) for a bit, they've resolved to treat their canine companions a bit more equally. More being allowed on the furniture, less stupid tricks for treats. Still, Pet Force can't stay long, and they head off in pursuit of K-Niner's battle cruiser. This is why most superheroes don't have spaceships (Jedis don't count): if your enemy also has one, they can flee way more easily than on foot.

Not willing to let another place go to the dogs, as it were, Pet Force catches up with K-Niner. With his previous success, Vetvix has stepped up the timetable and sent him after Polyester right away. Emperor Jon is in danger! They enter the planet's atmosphere, and are attacked by fighter craft. They fend them off, but their weapons system is damaged in the fight, so they can't simply use the reverse brain-rays and solve it quickly. The team splits up instead: Garzooka and Abnermal will go after K-Niner, while the other three will find the planet's power source and knock out the collars, since that worked so well the last time.

The two heroes quickly make short work of K-Niner's guards, and then turn the battle to deal with the Dog of Doom himself. While the struggle goes on, the rest of Pet Force reach the planet's power grid. Using a clever tactic, Compooky overloads the power and causes and electrical storm that simultaneously undoes the brain-boosting effect and shorts out the enslavement collars. There's only a few pages left, after all, and we have to wrap this up.  K-Niner is reverted back into an ordinary dog, and the emperor is reverted to an ordinary non-enslaved person. The day is saved!

And now once again, Pet Force prepares to return to their own universe. However... when the spell clears, the five heroes are still standing there. Something is blocking the passage between dimensions, and Pet Force is trapped. And while Pet Force's adventures have taken place between mere moments in their own universe, they have always returned quickly enough that Jon didn't notice a thing. But this time, as Jon retrieves the volleyball and turns around to his pets, he's surprised to find they've all vanished into thin air...

Book 4: Menace of the Mutanator

This one's very striking because of its more painted look compared to the heavy black outlines the rest of the covers have. Does this one count as having the whole team on the cover? Because, spoilers, that's what the Mutanator is: the rest of Pet Force mashed up into a villain. Again, though, that's definitely a striking image that'd draw in readers to a comic cover. In fact, while Garzooka may be over-used as a cover focus, several of these also show him imperiled in some way, and that's nice for character stuff. That helps balace it a bit~

I wanna say, before we start, that I'm impressed by the continuity for the series as a whole. They could've just written each story as a standalone, but for a series of 100-page children's novellas starring Garfield characters as superheroes, things happen in these books. Like, maybe not sweeping status quo changes, but events affect the plot of each next book down the line. And that's where we pick up! Right where the last book left off, with Pet Force now stuck in the alternate universe, unable to return home to Jon. But if they can't go home to Jon, well, maybe then events will conspire to bring Jon to them~

Yep, because Jon happens to wander into the room where they keep the copy of Pet Force #100 that acts as a portal to their universe, he gets transported into the Pet Force universe. And since Emperor Jon is still an extant entity, there's just two Jons now. Jon, of course, is a bit freaked out, and it takes several pages to explain the whole deal to him, and also have a showcase of all their powers to pad out the book some more. Eventually, they decide to call in Sorceror Binky to examine the problem. When he has a go of it, a sudden tornado emerges from the cauldron and whisks away Pet Force--save for Garzooka, whose prodigious strength keeps him anchored.

Garzooka heads out in the Lightspeed Lasagna to track Pet Force's signature, glad to get away from a double trouble Jon. And while he's searching, the scene cuts to Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear. Hey, one of her bases actually lasted more than one book! This is where Pet Force has been transported to, once more in a power-proof cell. Vetvix monologues to the heroes, as she is wont to do, explaining that she's the one who cast the spell to keep them from returning home. And further, she's brought them here to mutate them into her servants.

While Emperor Jon exposits about his backstory (turns out he is not of royal blood, and has about as much legitimate claim to the throne as you or I do), the search continues. Sorceror Binky detects Pet Force, giving them all a view of what happens next. The trapped members of Pet Force are literally broken apart and reassembled: Odious' body, Compooky's brain inserted into the chest, Abnermal's hands, and Starlena's head. She christens this beast "Mutanator", and it is soullessly obedient. I also wanna say, Mutanator's kind of a non-binary icon, aren't they? (The comic uses "it", but it was 1998 and alternative pronouns weren't really a thing yet.) Muscular, masculine body, but confident enough to still wear lipstick. It's a look, is all I'm saying~

Mutanator continues to possess the combined powers of Pet Force as well. Vetvix sends them to attack the planet Armory to gear up before attempting to conquer Polyester. And meanwhile, thanks to the convenience of being able to scan all of Compooky's memories now that his brain is part of Mutanator, Vetvix has the perfect trap to spring on Garzooka--or should she say Garfield. Yes, she really knows the whole origin for Pet Force now, and now she knows all Garfield's weaknesses, likes and dislikes, and probably blood type and other dating profile stats~

Thus, when Garzooka receives the coordinates from Emperor Jon and arrives at the Floating Fortress, he finds himself menaced by giant spiders. Vetvix couldn't think of a way to get Mondays to attack him, so the Giant Spider Invasion will do. Spiders are apparently very formiddable foes, Garzooka's personal fears aside. They can swat gamma hairballs out of the air, they can construct webs as quickly as certain Marvel heroes, and their hairy exoskeletons are resistant to both claw and strength. But despite his fear and Abnermal's running commentary, Garzooka manages to trounce the spiders with a carefully applied flame--taking Vetvix's blueprints with them.

Garzooka heads out once again to track down the Mutanator, leaving his less-than-all-together friends in the safety of their forcefield prison. While he's off, we return to the perspective of his target. Using their combined powers, the Mutanator swiftly conquers the planet Armory and sets their sights on Polyester next. It's not a bad plan, honestly. With the stockpile from Armory, not only will the Mutanator be more powerful, Polyester won't be able to use the planet for backup. Fortunately for the two Jons, though, Garzooka intercepts the Mutanator before they can leave Armory.

The fight's actually pretty good. Very back and forth. But even despite Garzooka's great strength, the Mutanator wins in the end. Thankfully, Vetvix puts her conquest of Polyester on hold to take the time to retrieve Garzooka and add his power to the Mutanator. This, of course will be her undoing--in a completely ridiculous way, of course. For back in the palace, our universe's Jon is watching Pet Force's struggles with the scrying cauldron. And he leans in a bit too close. Sowhile Vetvix is prepping the machine to divide Garzooka's body like she did the rest of Pet Force, Jon suddenly tumbles through the dimensional warp caused by the cauldron and lands on Vetvix, which causes her to put the machine in reverse. A real Jonnus ex cauldrona there, eh?

The Mutanator disappears, their existance as a unique being wiped out as their pieces return to their proper Pet Force owners. With Pet Force reassembled, Garzooka takes out Vetvix with one of his gamma-radiated hairballs while she's distracted by Jon. Pet Force decides that the vile veternarian should have a taste of her own medicine, and stick her in the body-splicing machine with some of her guards. This divides them all up and mixes them into bizarre combinations. It also has the side effect of disabling Vetvix's magic, so they can return to their own universe now.

The book wraps up here. Pet Force first returns to Armory to both return the stolen weapons and also make repairs on the buildings that were damaged in Garzooka's fight with the Mutanator. That's the sort of thing I'd like to see in more superhero stories in general. The two Jons part ways, with the Emperor believing the other Jon's heroism to have been deliberate. And thus are Garfield and friends returned home. And just like the end of their first adventure, where Garfield couldn't be sure if it really happened, so too is Jon's memory fading. Had he really witnessed all that? Only his pets know for sure--and in this universe, they can't talk~

Book 5: Attack of the Lethal Lizards

This one's another wrap-around, showing the rest of Pet Force engaging the remaining Lethal Lizards on the back cover. This is one advantage books have over comics: a front and back cover you can use for your story-telling. The Lizard designs are pretty good for a villain group too. Like Pet Force, they don't adhere to a particular theme, but they do look good individually. Garzooka roasting a hot dog on a stick might be a bit too comedic for a superhero story, though. It sets the tone wrong. How "lethal" can they possibly be if Garzooka is out here roasting hot dogs in the middle of battle?

So here we go, last book. After the usual recap, we open with Jon explaining to Garfield and friends his latest plans: they're going to WackyWorld, a theme park dedicated to Jon's favourite cartoon, The Wackies. Both Garfield and Nermal think the show is lame, and if those two agree on something, you know it must be so. In less lame universes, however, trouble is once more a-brewing. So it turns out Vetvix's Floating Fortress of Fear has been orbiting the swamp planet Reptilius this whole time. And her various experiments in the last two books have been radiating the planet in magical energy...

From that magical power, three reptiles find themselves uplifted in intelligence and granted fantastic powers. Please say hello to our three main villains for this book: Snake, an enormous snake (the only one without an anthro design) with stretching powers; Chameleon, who can shapeshift; and Dragon, a komodo dragon with fire breath and the bad attitude to match. While Snake and Chameleon figure out their powers, Dragon declares himself the leader as he's clearly the smartest, strongest, and most powerful. They name themselves the Lethal Lizards and start plotting how to rule the planet.

After that exciting intro, though, the book kind of slows down. First we get a whole chapter of Emperor Jon also deciding to go on vacation, to planet Funlandia. With Vetvix out of commission for a while, there's no better time. In short, he's out of the castle and Sorceror Binky is in charge. This is followed by a chapter of Jon and his pets at WackyWorld. It's certainly an accommodating amusement park to allow pets on its grounds. Garfield at least gets along with the food, but if you know anything about amusement park food prices, the amount Garfield eats will make your wallet weep. Jon takes his mind off it by dragging the pets along to a ride. Surely they have to be under the height restriction~

Fortunately, we get back to the actual stars of this book, and we see a bit more of their dynamic. Snake is the sort who sucks up to whoever's calling themselves "Boss" at the moment. Dragon is power-hungry, and it's clear he'll sell out his allies at the drop of a hat. Chameleon is Starscream. Anyway, they trek through the jungles of Reptilius until they find a downed spaceship. Reviewing the logs reveals it was a scout ship from Vetvix, and they also learn of Vetvix and her mission. However, they don't know where Emperor Jon lives, so they crowd into the the newly christened Rapacious Reptile and set course for the stars.

The first planet they come across is a world called Klod. Quickly the Lethal Lizards beat up the populace and find the local government. Chameleon shapeshifts into a dignitary, pretending to be an advance entourage for Emperor Jon, schmoozing with the governor until he learns both what Jon looks like and the name of his planet. With this information secure, Chameleon nips out suddenly, and the trio sets forth towards Polyester. Governer Klutz calls up the palace as soon as the reptiles depart, and reports the incident to Sorceror Binky.

Binky wastes no time, and he dials up Pet Force. Since all five are in one place, he's able to pull them through even without them being near the gateway through issue #100's cover. Convenient! Pet Force, however, does waste time, as a lengthy comedy scene eats up several pages before we just get on with it. Eventually, the situation is conveyed, and they figure it's safer to keep Emperor Jon on Funlandia for the time being. Compooky stays behind to help plan some strategies, while the rest of Pet Force boards the Lightspeed Lasagna to intercept the Lethal Lizards before they even arrive.

Pet Force spends the next few minutes both scanning for incoming ships and bickering with each other, so I'm very glad when the Rapacious Reptile appears on their detectors before too long. Dragon threatens the ship, telling them to move or he'll knock them aside. It's a spaceship, dude, you can move in three dimensions. The ships trade shots, and while Chameleon's piloting is actually pretty good due to his independently-rotating eyeballs, eventually both ships crash land on whatever planet is nearby.

Both ships crash right next to each other, which is improbable but less ridiculous than some of the contrivances in these books, so I'm okay with it. Now you'd think what with the enemies being reptiles and Abnermal having freezing powers that this battle would be over really easily, but no. In fact, Garzooka and Dragon are pretty evenly matched. Snake turns out to be immune to Starlena's siren song because snakes don't have external ears. See, now there's a contrivance I find a bit weird. Snake swallows Abnermal whole, and Chameleon and Odious get literally tongue-tied. The Lethal Lizards actually live up to their name pretty well.

As the fight continues, half of both sides are laid out when Compooky comes rushing up, saying he has an urgent message from the emperor. And that's when he sucker-punches the team. It was actually Chameleon in disguise, having gotten knocked away when he and Odious separated. So yeah, round one goes to the Lizards, and they make their escape first. Pet Force regroups, and they give chase. The Lizards have enough head start to really lay siege to Polyester before Pet Force arrives, though. They even get access to the palace using Chameleon's shapeshifting, leading to Sorceror Binky letting slip the real location of the emperor just as Pet Force arrives.

Another fight ensues--see, now it's really a superhero story--and the Lizards leave again 2 and 0. This time Snake uses his venomous fangs to attack Starlena. This leads to the weirdest contrivance yet. Maybe not the worst, but definitely the weirdest. They have only minutes to save Starlena. So how do they do it? Well, they notice that Odious drools quite a lot. It's very "fluid output". So they have Binky magically reverse Odious' drooling, so that he has "fluid input" on his tongue instead. It becomes a big suction sponge and sucks the poison out of Starlena. They then restore the drooling, and he just harmlessly drools out the poison. What.

With their teammate saved, Pet Force pursues the Lethal Lizards to Funlandia. They get there just in time to rescue Emperor Jon from their clutches, with Garzooka and Odious combining their strength to literally rip a kiddie ride out of the ground. Starlena corners Chameleon in a hall of mirrors, turning his own trick against him. Snake is undone by Odious' strength. And Garzooka fights Dragon to a standstill, finally trapping all three on a roller coaster still operating. When the ride comes to an end, Abnermal freezes them all until the authorities can retrieve them.

Naturally, Emperor Jon thinks it's all part of the show (because Jon is dimwitted in any universe). The Lizards are sent to a lizard-proof prison (seriously, it specifies this), and Pet Force returns to their own universe. As usual, Jon didn't notice his pets go missing during the dark amusement park ride. The book concludes on an ominous note, however, as the ship carrying the Lethal Lizards makes its jump to lightspeed just as it passes the Floating Fortress of Fear. The shockwave knocks over some debris that reactivates the combining machine, restoring Vetvix to her full evil might once more!

The end!

No, really. Those five books are all there was. I hear it may have continued into the comics, but I don’t know how accurate that is. I didn’t really look into it.

But boy, what a ride, huh? Let’s dissect the books one at a time, since it only seems fair to take them as individual stories.

The Outrageous Origin: It’s a fairly basic origin story, I’d say. It kind of has to be. I guess my main gripe is that, like Rita Repulsa’s entire run on Power Rangers, the heroes never fight the main villain directly. In fact, there’s barely even an evil plot in this one. You have henchmen and some traps, and that’s about it for the menace.

Pie-Rat’s Revenge: A cautionary tale about why you treat your minions with respect. This one’s pretty good, but the events depicted on the cover make up such a small part of the book. Wouldn’t it have been more fun if Garzooka was turned at the beginning of the story? Book 4 would at least do the reverse of that, so it’s not a major complaint~

K-Niner, Dog of Doom: I think this one’s about as middle of the road as you can get. What a coincidence that it’s also the middle of the series! Like I said in the recap portion, it’s a shame that Pie-Rat’s story ended here. This one definitely feels more “villain of the week” than most.

Menace of the Mutanator: This one might be the best book in the series. Garzooka, alone, battling against the best parts of his team? That’s gripping stuff. I guess the main problem is that the Mutanator isn’t really a character in and of themselves. Like, K-Niner, he may have been a generic rent-a-villain type, but he had a personality. Mutanator is little more than an extention of Vetvix’s will.

Attack of the Lethal Lizards: I’m a bit split on this one. The bits with the titular Lizards are great. They steal the show! But the parts where it focuses on either Jon kind of drag, and Pet Force is a bit too jokey here. Like, I get the point is that they’ve relaxed into their roles now, and there’s not much point of doing it as a Garfield story if they don’t actually use the character personalities, but... I dunno. It’s good, but it could have been better~

And that’s it! Like, I dunno how to wrap this up. Pet Force was neither my first exposure to superheroes nor my first introduction to the Garfield brand (you can thank Saturday morning cartoons for both of those). But for some reason, maybe just the absurdly goofy premise, it always kinda stuck with me. And I think that’s a good enough reason to make it my 10th anniversary review, don’t you~?

[doshmanziari]

Musical Offerings for the New Year || What is “Radical Music” in 2021?

Near the end of 2020, a bunch of musicians populating a chatroom, including myself, each submitted ten minutes’ worth of our work to another musician, Chimeratio, who generously compiled it all into a set totaling nearly ten hours.¹ The work didn’t need to be new; just what we thought might best represent our abilities/style(s) and/or perhaps what we were especially pleased with. The set premiered in late January. Since I have some tentative plans for reorienting Brick By Brick this year, while not overriding its emphases, I wanted to share that music with anyone who’s interested.

I compiled the four videos into a playlist, although you can also access them individually: here (1), here (2), here (3), and here (4). If you care to, and are on a computer, you can also view the accompanying chatlog and read people’s responses from when they were listening to the live broadcast.

The compulsion for this project was sparked by excited discussions over and usage of the term “digital fusion”, most helpfully propagated by Aivi Tran, designating a computer-based body of work that for years lacked the rooftop of a commonly agreed upon genre-name. While describing my music has never been a big concern, even if it’s usually felt impossible (what, for example, is this? or this? I dunno!), I’ve appreciated how the spread and application of this term has brought together people who may have felt isolated.²

As “digital fusion” gained designative traction, I witnessed the activity in the aforementioned chatroom explode over the course of a few days. Before, a day’s discussion might’ve been a few dozen messages; now, there were dozens of messages every half-minute. This had positive and negative ramifications, the negative being that conversations often proceeded at a pace of rapidity which precluded concentrated thought. Eventually, I bowed out because the rapidity exceeded my threshold for meaningful interaction; but I was glad that significant invigoration was going on.

I wanted to share this music also because it intersects with thoughts and talks I’ve been having stemming from the question, “What is ‘radical music’ in 2021?” This was stimulated by a 2014 talk given by the writer Mark Fisher, wherein he contends that, were we to play prominent “cutting edge” music from now to people twenty years ago, very nearly none of it would be aesthetically shocking, bizarre, or revelatory (think of playing house music to an audience in the early 1960s!). Fisher also observes a trend of returning to music which once was seen as the future -- as if, deprived of a shared prograde vision, imaginations turn hazily retrograde; ergo, genres such as synthwave or albums like Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories.

It isn’t my goal here to argue about the “end of history.” Fisher’s time-travel hypothetical, however, rings loud and true to me. Visible musical radicalism has, for at least a decade, been strictly extra-musical, in the sense of songs like “This is America” or “WAP”, where one’s response is primarily to the spectacle of the music video, the performer’s identistic markers, and/or the manner in which the lyrics intersect with (mostly US-centric) ideological hotspots. Musically, there is really nothing radical here. Any vociferous condemnations or defenses of a song like “WAP” deal in moralizing reactions to semantics or imagery: how progressive or regressive is the political aspect? how propelled or repelled are we by the word “pussy”?

It would be a mistake, and simply wrong, to assert that the only music one can enjoy escapes the parameters outlined above; and my inability to coherently categorize some of my own music hardly raises that portion to the status of radicality. But the question here pertains to what is being made, and I think that if we’re going to seriously consider the nature of truly radical music today, we do need to question if such a quality can prominently exist when our hyper-fast consumerist cycle seems to forbid not just sustained, lifelong relationships to artwork but also the local, unhurried nourishment of creative gestation. Now, in my opinion, there are good, even great, examples of radical music still being made in deep Internet-burrows, and for evidence of that I would offer some of the material contained in the linked playlists. Moreover, I’d say that this quality can exist in part because these little artistic communities are so buried.

Let me share a quote that another person shared with me recently:

For culture to shift, you need pockets of isolated humanity. Since all pockets of humanity (outside of the perpetually isolated indigenous people in remote wilderness) are connected in instantaneous fashion, independent ideas aren’t allowed to ferment on their own. When you cook a meal, you have to bring ingredients together that have had time to grow, ferment, or decompose separately. A cucumber starts out as a seed, then you mix it with the soil, water and sunlight. You can’t bring the seed, soil, water and sunlight to the kitchen from the get-go. When you throw those things in to the mixture without letting them mature, the flavor cannot stand out on its own. Same thing with art and fashion. A kid in Russia can come up with a new way to dance, gets filmed on a phone, it goes viral quickly but gets lost in the morass of all of the other multitudinous forms of dance. Sure it spread far and wide, but it gets forgotten in a week. In the past, his new art form would have been confined locally, nurtured, honed, then spread geographically, creating a distinct new cultural idiosyncrasy with a strong support base. By the time it was big enough to be presented globally, it was already a cultural phenomenon locally. This isn’t possible anymore. We’re consuming too many unripened fruits.

The main impression I have here is that radical music today will, and must be, folk music. Our common idea of folkiness might be the scrappy singer strumming a guitar, but my interpretive reference rather has to do with the idea of a music being written, first of all, for one’s self, and then shared with a small-scale community, which in turn helps the artist grow at their own pace. This transcends a dependence upon image, the primacy of acoustic instrumentation, or the signaling of sincerity versus insincerity. It is a return to the valuation of outsider art, so rare nowadays. As someone who I was recently in dialogue with wrote, “Where can you find new genuine folk music? Pretty much just with your friends, imo. Even then, the global world is so influential and seeps into any crack it can find. I think vaporwave was radical and folk for a while. Grant Forbes made that music way before the world knew about it.”

Sometimes, a lot of fuss is made over what’s seen as “gatekeeping” within certain communities. It can be, depending on the context, justifiable to question and critique this behavior. At other times, the effort of maintaining a level of exclusivity, of retaining an idiosyncratic shapeliness to the communal organism, can be a legitimate attempt to protect the personal, interpersonal, and cultural aspects from the flattening effect of monoculture. Hypothetically, I welcome the Castlevania TV series and Super Smash Bros. Ultimate having introduced new and younger demographics to Castlevania. In actuality, stuff like “wholesome sad gay himbo Alucard”, image macros, and neurotic “stan” fanfiction being what’s now first associated with the series makes me want to put as much distance as possible between my interests and those latecoming impositions.

The group-terminology David Chapman uses in his essay “Geeks, MOPs, and Sociopaths in Subculture Evolution” is kinda cringey, but some of the cultural/behavioral patterns he lays out are relevant to the topic. Give it a look. If we cross his belief that “[subcultures] are no longer the primary drivers of cultural development” with our contemporary consume-and-dispose customs, we’re left with the predicament of it’s even worth attempting to bring radical/outsider art beyond its rhizomatic habitat. This is troubling, because it would mean that artistic radicality no longer might not only refuse to but cannot encompass cultural upheaval. It would be like if dance music were invented and -- instead of progressively permeating nightlife, stimulating countercultural trends, and ultimately being adapted as the basis for pop music globally -- only were listened to via headphones by a few thousand people on their own, stimulated a group meeting once a year or two, and never affected music beyond a niche-within-a-niche. That’s a very sad picture to me.

⁂

¹ Chimeratio has also maintained an excellent blog on here dedicated to looking at videogame music written in irregular time signatures, far preceding higher-profile examinations like 8-bit Music Theory’s video on the same topic.

² For myself, creative isolation has had its uses, because it has led me down routes that are highly personalized. The isolation can be dispiriting too. Although a lot of my music is videogame-music-adjacent, almost none of it uses “authentic” technology, such as PSG synthesizers or FM synthesis; and the identification of those sounds is fairly important for recognition.

[365days365movies]

March 2, 2021: The Last Unicorn (1982) (Part 1)

I, uh...I wanna talk about zoology.

It’s my profession of choice, although if I’m going to be specific, it’s ecology and ornithology, based on my Masters. But while my expertise is in birds, that doesn’t mean I have any particular preference. So, let’s talk mammals. Specifically, I’d like to talk about horses.

Horses are odd-toed ungulates (Order Perissodactyla) belonging to the family Equidae, with only one living genus (Equus), which includes donkeys, zebras, and a FUCK-ton of fossil progenitors. Not gonna go into horse evolution here, since it’s a vast topic on its own, but the group dates to about 54 million years ago, during the Eocene period.

There are specific features that define modern horses as horses, including a single hoofed toe for walking on, a body built for running with high stamina, and a large cecum in the intestines for breaking down fibrous and herbaceous material. It’s a group native to North America, Africa, and Asia, with the modern descended horse descended from a somewhat unknown ancestor in Central Asia.

They’re grazers rather than browsers, which many similar sized herbivores are. And, of course, they have a close relationship to humans throughout prehistory. Their main systems of defense against predators are the afore-mentioned running capabilities, a VICIOUS kick (especially horses like zebras), and a high-range of monocular vision due to the position of their HUGE eyes.

In terms of sexual selection, it’s essentially based on physical competition between the males in a population, which are usually formed into reproductive harems. That’s one male with multiple females that live within an established range. The females have their own dominance schemes, while groups of males exist in bachelor herds before establishing a harem of their own.

And those two paragraphs help explain why horses don’t grow horns.

Animals like this bighorn sheep, as well as antelopes with impala and gerenuk, perform intrasexual selection using their horns, the size of which determine the fitness of an individual male, with the fights settling any potential ties for watching females. And that’s the main reason why herbivorous mammals grow horns, and horses have come up with different social structures to compensate. But OK, couldn’t they just horns anyway? 

Remember the stomach I mentioned earlier? Here’s the thing; hindgut digestion, which is what horses do...not the most nutritionally efficient form of digestion. In order to maintain their running lifestyles, they invest all obtained energy and nutrients into building muscle and other important functions. Fact of the matter is, they just can’t devote enough energy and nutrients to the physiologically expensive act of owning a horn. They do have a close relative that does that, though. However, they’ve sacrificed their speed, intelligence, and even their eyesight for their horns, as well as beefing up their physical defense with thicker skin.

YUP! So why talk about this? I mean...you know why.

OK, so that had basically nothing to do with this movie, but a post like this has been building since I mentioned the gerenuk a little bit ago. Sorry, had to get it out. Anyway, yeah, unicorns are impossible, but they’re still a hallowed mythical creature. National animal of Scotland, one of the most prominent symbols of medieval mythology, a magic-using ethnic class in a mythical kingdom composed of a horse-based majority that also includes normal horses and pegasi...

You know, unicorns. So, I’m definitely interested in what would happen to make a unicorn, well...the last one. My bets are on something man-made, like deforestation or another for of habitat depletion. Could be poaching for the horn. After all, that’s what’s been driving rhinoceros species to near-extinction (or actual extinction in the case of the western black and northern white rhinos. RIP Sudan, you goddamn king).

But let’s find out rather than speculate! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

During medieval times, in a mystical wood called the Unicorn’s Forest, a hunter shows unease to his companion. In the forest, there are no seasons, and the beasts are protected from hunters, as long as there is one unicorn left if the forest. That last unicorn is...the Unicorn (Mia Farrow), who learns from the hunters that she must be the last of her kind.

The opening credits, which are a gorgeous animated medieval tapesty, are backed by the song “The Last Unicorn”, by America (damn, nice pull). Gives the whole thing a Renn Faire feel. Never been to a Renn Faire, but I’d love to go to one, honestly.

Anyway, the Unicorn is in doubt that there are no more of her kind in the world, as they live forever, and she would know if there are none left...right? However, they can also be killed and trapped, so...I mean, they might be dead, Unicorn. As she’s thinking on this, the most Rankin-Bass butterfly ever shows up singing a ballad of love. This is...the Butterfly (Robert Klein), a bard-erfly (see whay I did there) who won’t stop singing, despite the Unicorn’s pleas to tell her of other unicorns.

Butterflies, apparently, repeat to anything they hear around them Which involves like, a lot of non-medieval songs. There’s one about the A-train, apparently, which makes...just NO fucking sense. As the Unicorn also shows frustration at this anachronistic little bugger, he breaks his songs to tell her than the Unicorns have all been chased off by “the Red Bull.”

...I’m going to hold it off as long as I can, but the joke WILL come. It WILL come.

She wonders if she can truly leave the forest, then actually does so in order to find the other unicorns. She happens upon a farmer, who attempts to tame her, as he only sees her as a horse. Apparently, men can no longer see unicorns as they are, and usually only see them as white horses. So, there may be unicorns in the world after all!

Not sure why she doesn’t go back to her forest after realizing this, but...OK. She continues on, backed once again by a song performed by America, called “Man’s Road”. Real talk, I’m digging the music in here, which is my inner folk rock fan talking.

While she finds nothing on her journey, she’s instead found by Mother Fortuna (Angela Langsbury), a witch who runs a carnival that needs a new exhibition. With her comes Ruhk (Brother Theodore) and magician Schmendrick (Alan Arkin), the latter of whom actually can see the Unicorn as a Unicorn.

At the carnival, Schmendrick introduces hiself to the Unicorn, wanting to get her out of there. Meanwhile, an audience is fooled by Mother Fortuna’s illusory magic to see a manticore, satyr, and the Midgard Serpent, when in reality they are an elderly lion, ape with a twisted foot, and really sad snake. However, the Harpy that she has IS real, and a major threat to Fortuna were she to escape.

That night, Fortuna speaks to the Unicorn of the Red Bull, owned by a King Haggard. The Unicorn asks Fortuna to free both her and the Harpy, two signs of the same magical coin. Also...is this a kids’ movie? Kinda thought it was until I noticed that the Harpy has, well...pendulous breasts. Literally the best way I can describe them. Also, three of them, so...there’s that.

After she leaves, Schmendrick arrives to free the Unicorn with his magic...and he’s shit at it. Like, REALLY shit. But thankfully, he’s a decent pickpocket, and stole the cage keys from Ruhk. He lets the Unicorn free, and she in turn releases the other animal prisoners, Harpy included. Which is NOT great for Fortuna, who’s IMMEDIATELY killed.

The two leave together, and head on the Unicorn’s journey to find her own kind. She cannot grant Schmendrick his wish to become a true magician, but he still gives her information about this world, and King Haggard, who seems like bad news.

On the road, the two encounter a gang of thieves of the road, who work for Captain Cully (Keenan Wynn), a short and portly leader of bandits. His mistress is a woman named Molly Grue (Tammy Grimes), who’s endlessly frustrated by Cully’s regular failures. They befriend Schmendrick, who impresses them with illusions of Robin Hood and his Merry Men. Although, it’s not his illusions, but those of the Unicorn, trying to help.

Doesn’t help that much, though, as the Robin Hood-hating Captain Cully ties him up to a tree after all of his men and Molly leave. A frustrated Schmendrick mutters a spell by mistake, and brings the tree to life.

And then my girlfriend fuckin’ broke. Here she is, below:

Ravishing. Yeah, she’s watching this too, and when the tree came up, her words were, and I quote:

...a smooth-talking horse, a three-tittied harpy, and a BOOBED TREE!

Boobed tree is an expression I will find a way to use in my life. Also, this is ABSOLUTELY not a kid’s movie, and that is one busty-ass tree. This tree, called...The Tree (Nellie Bellflower) is in love with Schmendrick, and is enraged by the appearance of the Unicorn. However, the Unicorn undoes Schmendrick’s magic, and puts the t-horny tree back to sleep.

The two encounter Molly Grue, who’s astonished to see a Unicorn. She cries, as she was been waiting to see one since she was a young maiden, but now she isn’t one anymore. Interesting implications there, but moving on. Molly wishes to join them, and while Schmendrick isn’t super down for that, she wins the Unicorn’s trust when she points out that they’ve been going in the wrong direction. Whoops.

OK, with that, let’s break for Part 2! See you there!

[thistangledbrain]

Deliberately lumping 17 & 18 together this time, because 17 isn’t that big of an entry.

Day 17 - “Accommodations”

So from a *personal* standpoint, I need few or no accommodations, as I’ve learned to make my own & have my own coping skills - when you spend most of your life not even knowing you’re autistic, you’re less likely to ask for something to help you with “your weird hangups”.

But younger auties often DO need accommodations- like being allowed to wear headphones/muffs in school, having a quieter testing environment, smaller classes, and so on. And obviously, the more you struggle with certain aspects (like loud noises or crowds), the more accommodations you’ll need.

I admit I don’t have much experience with the kids who truly need the total SPED environments. *Most* (definitely not all) kids I’ve known have all been capable to a degree of adapting to a NT environment. It’s *exhausting*, but possible *most of the time*. So since I’m a child of “suck it UP!”, I’m unfamiliar with this outside of simple accommodations I asked for, for my youngest, when he was in his earlier HS years - like headphones being allowed, and letting him keep his cell phone on him so he could quietly text with me if he was having a rough day & we could walk through it together. As he’s progressed through high school, he’s needed these accommodations less and less. I’ve noticed as my boys have edged through puberty, they leave more and more of their younger struggles behind them.

Your results may vary, of course.

———————————————

Day 18 - “Someday”

Hm. Boy, that’s ambiguous. Maybe I’ll take this one on from a couple different angles.

Someday I hope NTs understand autism better. Someday I hope each autistic person can be judged on their OWN PERSONAL strengths and weaknesses, like NTs are, instead of lumping us all together and deciding we can or can’t do something, based on the fact we’re autistic. For example, I know *plenty* of autistic musicians who play in bands ranging from death metal & punk rock, to smooth jazz. “But I thought autistic people couldn’t handle loud sounds!!”, you exclaim. Yeah, and some of us can. Also, not all loud sounds are created equal. Or sounds in general. A good example for me is, I occasionally jump and let out a little scream when the toast pops up 🙄, but I don’t flinch at the sound of gunfire - because I love to target shoot (I do not hunt), and it’s something I’m really good at, so I enjoy it thoroughly. (I’m not going to get started on America’s gun violence problem because it enrages me. I can rant about that allllll day & already deleted two paragraphs doing just that. This was just a convenient example.)

I’ve been thinking about this a LOT lately, actually. We have our own hurdles, without NTs adding to them, anyway. But I think about “what if I knew I was autistic, before I joined the Marines? Would I still have been as determined?” YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT...BUT I would have hit a brick wall, because they wouldn’t have let me (if I was honest about it, anyway - I’m telling you right now, if every applicant was 100% honest about their background, almost NO ONE would be accepted). So what happened? Well - I was a damned good Marine, that’s what happened - because I didn’t let *anybody* tell me I couldn’t do something. And as I mentioned before...for certain types of auties, the military is actually a pretty fucking brilliant, comfortable environment that we literally thrive in. Again - we are all different. So this “someday” one is BIG for me. Someday I hope we are judged individually on our merits, someday I hope we are looked at through the lens of what we CAN do, versus what *someone else* thinks we cannot do. I have YET to meet an Autie who doesn’t go “OH YEAH?!” when we’re told we “can’t” do something because of our autism. (We might not always succeed, granted, but we really hate being told we “can’t” do something, based on what YOU think we can and cannot do.)

Someday I hope autism is actually celebrated, instead of thinking it’s some sort of scourge. I hope to see that happen in my lifetime.

Someday I also hope that people (the doctors and psych folks and whatever) realize there’s actually a *considerable* difference between male and female autistics - which is why females are so often diagnosed late in life, because we “don’t fit the profile”. I also hope they realize that some females are more like males, and some males more like females, as far as the expression of our ASD. In other words - back to HOW ABOUT YOU EVALUATE US INDIVIDUALLY, FFS. I hear all this shit about how “autism is a spectrum”, and it just seems like lip service - if you KNOW it’s a spectrum, then why are you still trying to pigeonhole us into the DSM-5 definition or whatever, and operating inside generic parameters?? Auties are the most complex human beings you will ever meet in your life - and I stand FIRMLY by that - so your attempts to shoehorn us into your basic understanding of it is frustrating as FUCK. Infuriating, even. No wonder we fight you so bad when you try it. How would YOU like it if we decided that every middle class blonde woman is a “Karen”, and treated you as such? Or if we decided everyone with brown eyes are slow and we should treat all of you brown eyed people the same, like infants? You’d be like, “what the FUCK?” Yeah. It’s a lot like that.

Someday, I hope more therapists understand the autistic brain better, so they can be more helpful. Sometimes the same advice you’d give a NT patient struggling with an issue (let’s say, the death of a loved one or executive function) just won’t ...WORK...for an Autie. As it stands now, most therapists I’ve known go straight to ABA, and that gets frustrating when you just need to let it all out so you can re-center and actually have a discussion. Speaking of ABA, someday I hope teachers and doctors and therapists understand the resentment and feelings of being “wrong” or “bad” that result from ABA. SOME of it is necessary I think, but mostly, all it does is teach repression & lets us know loud and clear that the way we are is “wrong”. I desperately hope ABA is reevaluated - with the input from ACTUAL AUTISTICS. Using ABA for to overcome a problem like, say, potty training or something, is often seriously necessary. But potty training isn’t part of *who we are*, if that makes sense. Most ABA is basically like putting your Autie kid in a dog training bootcamp, with little to no thought about “what makes that kid tick”. It’s all about training you to act in a way that NTs find acceptable (and I have lots and lots of cuss words about that........) I don’t even train DOGS like some schools or therapists train auties. Dogs aren’t beings to dominate, control, and condition to act in ways I find pleasing (but I’m also not a “general trainer”...I’m on the behavior side of things). They’re sentient beings who deserve to have their personalities discovered, their traumas and their hangups, and THEN we work inside THAT dog’s parameters until we’re solid...*then* we start working on pushing them outside of comfort zones and such. AFTER that trust and understanding has been laid down as a solid foundation, for *that specific dog*, regardless of my experience with past dogs (though I do rely heavily on past experiences of course; knowledge of what did and didn’t work with some other dog similar to the one I have now - that sort of thing - but every dog is a whole new being to me...because, well, they actually *are*). Nothing is “cookie cutter”. Every dog is a brand new exploration. I understand that’s putting a lot of pressure on SPED teachers. I understand they’re baffled when I tell them ABA sucks as a because they see “positive results”. Sure - you see positive results in your ability to repress that child. Positive results in the fact that they’ve now learned to hide themselves from you and others. It seems the current ABA methods don’t necessarily teach any sort of useful skills for actually adapting to the flow of the NT world for that kid - just how to repress who they are, so they fit in. In other words - ABA is successful for the NT world - not us. It actually depresses the shit out of me to think about how teachers and counselors view the rocking and flapping kid they’ve now trained to sit quietly in class feels like their work is successful. You didn’t help that kid - you BROKE them, you broke their spirit, you broke who they are. That makes me so angry. Same when these so called “star trainers” can force or intimidate any dog to performative good behavior. Same as the difference between how native Americans train their horses versus how Anglo Saxons or others did/do. In the native culture, we call it “gentling”. In AS culture *it is LITERALLY called “breaking”*. I’m not kidding - look it up.)

As for my personal “someday”....

Someday I’ll write a book about my adventures & struggles in life and what it was like inside my brain through each one. It’s not that I think I’m anything special, but I’ve been asked to do this, and the reasons were pretty logical. And I do love to write, usually. Or maybe it’ll be a book about how my autism is a HUGE advantage in “my line of work” (the dog thing...being sort of more of a dog/human “guidance counselor” than a trainer - since I hear your voice and feelings, and I also hear your dog’s, I’m less of a trainer and more of a bridge between the two. An interpreter, but also almost like a marriage counselor too LOL). I think that’s my biggest “someday” and the only one worth mentioning, because it’s such a huge goal...most of my other personal “someday” stuff, I eventually kinda go “well fucking why not TODAY, bish?!” and I just...DO it.

But generally, someday I hope it’s understood that no two autistic people are alike - but we share enough commonality that it’s possible to understand we’re basically in a different category of people from “normal”. Someday I hope NTs in general drop their stereotypes and get to know us one on one. Someday I hope people realize and understand that even nonverbals are whole ass human beings, with thoughts and dreams and opinions and a whole complex personality that you missed, because you were too busy judging the fact they can’t speak like you do.

Someday I hope you realize we *enhance* the human experience, we don’t detract from it. Someday I hope you realize we are not BROKEN, we are just different. Someday I wish you’ll stop being so smug and stuck up in your “normally functioning brain”, and stop PITYING us. For fucking what??? Experiencing life in a much more complex and deep way?? Bruh. We pity YOU, too. Your world perception often seems dull and wasteful. Limited. OPEN UP - there’s a whole universe out there that you haven’t even explored. So, someday I hope we can enhance each other’s human experience, like my friends and I do. I’d love to see that on a larger scale.

Someday.

[plush-anon]

SCOOB! Stream of Consciousness Review

Here we are folks - I finally review the originally cinematic, fully CGI animated Scooby Doo Movie (one year later... I did not queue this as I thought I had last June - damn you, Tumblr. I’m not changing much here, so enjoy as it was intended).

Created by a team who have professed their affection for this mystery team and their meddling dog too, will this be a lush experience fit to satisfy any Hanna-Barbera fan? Or will it be a hot garbage cash-grab, littered with Easter eggs and references that do nothing to hide a meatless mess of outdated memes and shallow character development?

LET’S

FIND

OUT

Below this cut is my entire stream-of-consciousness review on the SCOOB! Movie, as experienced. SPOILER warning here - I’m digging into everything, no plot points spared. 

Here we go~

And we start off with a decent shot of the California coastline (looks like the kids backstory is front and center), some 90s hip-hop synthwave song about California, and OH SWEET JESUS THESE MODELS LOOK TERRIBLE

Ahem

Yeah, this is a problem right off the bat - some of these people in the opening shots look remarkably unfinished - think three shades above “Rapsittie Kids: Believe in Santa” level - and the animation on them is less than stellar. 

On the plus side, we do see a fantastic variety of ages, sizes, and races - there’s a brief blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Sikh man on roller skates playing a sitar - but when the designs look rushed in the opening shots, it’s not a fantastic sign. At least they’re brief, but it’s hard to see if this is a lower level of the film’s style due to rushed animation, or if they didn’t care to polish it up as much, given that it’s maybe a 30 second scene. 

Still, kudos to actually going for variety in the crowd shots. Minus kudos to making most of the clothes look like Play-doh draped over a Barbie doll. I’m not even kidding on that one, the clothes are super basic and barely have any sign of texture or creasing or even fabric/cut variety. Almost reminds me of the first Toy Story movie’s design for human clothes, yeesh. 

----

Ahh, our first introduction to Scooby Doo at a Greek gyro food stand. That’s foreshadowing right there folks! 😉

Sadly, he is really weirdly animated in his run sequence - he looks out of proportion as he’s running on his hind legs, and the human animation has really bad consistency - some background characters are really janky, while others actually move really nicely. The characters we immediately focus on seem to be pretty smooth at least, but that’s still very strange.

On a side note: Ruby and Spears Sub Sandwich shop. Nice 😁

----

They are reaaaally pushing the super over-the-top dramatic music for a bike cop chasing a dog that stole gyro meat

Why

It’s not even interesting chase music, just generic super-hyped-up chase music

----

And now we finally get to see a young Shaggy, standing next to a tie-dye food stand called Casey’s Confections that… sells meat. Hm. Guess WB hasn’t learned after all these years 🙄

Unfortunately, I’m not a huge fan of the kid they got to play him, Iain Armitage. He’s not a bad voice actor by any means, but he just doesn’t sound right for Shaggy. I know that as a kid he’d be much less likely to have a cracking/squeaky voice, but he sounds… it’s hard to pin down a word, but - precocious? Darling? Either way it doesn’t quite match, especially given how Shaggy sounds when he grows up via Will Forte. Just… no connection there. 

I tie it down to the particular vocal twangs and nuances the gang usually has. I’ll touch base on that note later I think, once we hit the teenage versions of the gang, but for now I’m just not feeling it. 

----

On the one hand, I empathize deeply with Shaggy and his Spotify’s unsettling ability to pinpoint his insecurities with song choices, and also deeply enjoy that one small gesture where his fingers kind of shake & tighten around his phone while he takes a deep breath to calm himself- it’s a very nice, subtle sign of frustration

On the other hand we just passed two guys with no nipples and an unerring likeness to a Ken doll in those Barbie movies, so I’m distracted by that now

(between this and Fred’s no-nipples in Happy Halloween SD!, is WB just terrified of giving men nipples in animated movies now? what gives?)

Also distracted by the thrifty lesbians who bought those two shirts that come together to make a heart in the middle, on the store’s 2 for 1 day

happy pride y’all!

---

Finally got context for the two sand piles!

Very, very sad context, but still! Progress!

Basically Shaggy’s practicing talking to people in order to learn how to make friends, since he either has no idea how, or has never had a friend before. So he’s trying to learn the right way to do it since his own attempts have failed

And him talking to these sand piles not only counts as practice, but he’s using them so that his mom thinks he’s spending time with friends like he told her

Ow :)

---

So ketchup leather is apparently a thing that exists

I’m learning so much today!

---

Given that Shaggy has no friends at this stage, but he’s still called Shaggy, I’m kind of wondering if that was a mean nickname that everyone called him, but he was just grateful for the interaction/pretended it was from friends, so he kept it 🤔

Actually, take it back, his mother is calling him that. Family nickname, maybe…?

----

Shaggy has Blue Falcon (classic) and Dynomutt funko pops

noice

---

Oof, you can reaaaaally hear the age in Frank Welker’s Scooby voice. Can we get Scott Innes back? He sounds almost identical to his performance 20+ years ago :/

Also talking waaaay too much - even SDMI Scooby wasn’t this wordy, and he NEVER shut the hell up 

----

Okay wait

So Shaggy met Scooby on Halloween day - then met the rest of the gang hours later?

Huh. And here I was thinking it would have been a few weeks minimum 

Although I have to say there is a lot here to work with, if it paces out how I think it does

Shaggy meets Scooby. Bare hours later, he buys him a collar (instead of his mom? weird) and asks him to stay with him, despite not really knowing him. Then, only a couple hours after that, he finally makes some friends… but only when Scooby is with him. 

Given that it looks like the gang are all around the same age in the same neighborhood, there’s a solid chance that they’ve taken classes together at the same school. If none of them met/knew/made friends with Shaggy then, but only did so AFTER Scooby came into the picture, that might lead to the argument we know about later when they split up; afterwards, S&SD go to the bowling alley, then get abducted by the Blue Falcon, plot continues. This could make it seem like they were only friends with him at the start because he had a dog. 

And the brief scene earlier with the music device shows that he tries to tamp down on his anger/doesn’t really address it - could lead to something more later 

hmmmm 🤔

---

Wait what

These two kid bullies just came out of nowhere, stole Shaggy’s candy… and then started on about how Halloween is only a marketing ploy to get companies to rot your teeth and go to the dentist more, before throwing the bag through a window and telling the two that ‘your blood sugar will thank us for it!’

Are - are these the brainwashed children of a Karen? Is that what I’m seeing?

I mean we could have had a Red Herring cameo, but apparently informing children about candy conspiracy theories is more important :/

----

Daphne: It’s Halloween - no one should go home without their candy

FD&V: *none of them have candy/candy bags*

???????

(Wouldn’t it make more sense if the bullies had stolen their candy too? What the hey man)

----

I do find it neat that we actually get to SEE the wires the ‘ghost’ uses to fly in full effect - that’s actually pretty cool, and not really something we get to see up close in older Scooby shows. Most of those just have the bad guy randomly flying about, and the wires revealed after the fact 

---

Actually, given how FD&V react to this ghost almost immediately… have they already been solving mysteries? It seems like it, given how smoothly they move together to capture him

That’s kind of odd in kids. Like, even in PNSD they weren’t perfectly in-sync on stuff

This then leads to the gang solving mysteries together… in spite of the fact that all Shag and Scoob did was hide in the wardrobe that had the stolen goods, while FD&V captured the dude 

Granted, they do ask Shag and Scoob if they wanna join in and say yes, but that seems like an strange jump after what could have been a one-time deal

I just find that a touch odd - esp when they could have had a five minute scene or so of them wandering around the house, touching on some old SDWAY traits. Heck, show that they’re SCARED in some way, and don’t immediately move to tackle what looks like a murderous spirit at age 8-9 or so. Even just showing the kids learning about each other would be enough, but what do I know. I’ve only watched Scooby Doo everything since I was 4 🙄

---

Ahhhh, and now for the updated rendition of the theme song

Where they’re all still kids doing everything the teenage gang did in the theme song

It doesn’t look as good as the OG, though - kind of like a computer game simulating the SDWAY intro using the PNSD kids in CGI. It’s honestly strange to see, and a little jarring - especially when we then transition to the older teenage gang right in the middle

Like, we don’t get to see you guys age through the song as you’re chased by/catch different monsters? That could have been pretty neat honestly - shows how long they’ve been doing this

Tho I gotta admit, seeing the Spooky Space Kook with his OG sound effects is pretty awesome, brief as it waoH MY GOD FRED WHY ARE YOU HAVING A ROMANTIC BEACHSIDE DATE WITH THE MYSTERY MACHINE 

THAT WASN’T IN THE ORIGINAL AND NO ONE ELSE GETS A CHARACTER INSIGHT SHOT LIKE THIS

WHY

----

Huh, looks like Ruby & Spears gave up their subway sandwich shop for a coffee shop

That apparently the gang goes to in order to eat malt shop food

okay?

----

Ah, and here’s where we finally look at the voice acting of the older teenage gang. Buckle up folks, cause I gotta lot to say

We’ll start with Fred, bc honestly? I think Efron actually fits him pretty dang well. He’s got a different cadence from Welker, true, but as far as an update goes? I think he’s a solid fit. Very much in line with the all-American kid that Fred’s kind of been slated as for the past 50 years or so, but updated more for the modern perspective. I call it solid (and possibly a replacement for whenever Welker decides to retire). 

Next? Oof. Velma is, IMHO, the weakest casting. Velma, no matter her voice actress, has ALWAYS had some form of nasal twang to her voice - that’s part of what makes her Velma to begin with, and helps her stand out. Nicole Jaffe, Pat Stevens, BJ Ward, Christina Lange (PNSD), Mindy Cohn, Kate Micucci, Linda Cardellini -heck, even Haley Kiyoko from ‘The Mystery Begins’ and Sarah Gilman from the ‘Daphne and Velma’ movie understood this! They all had that nasal twang to their voice - differing between actresses, of course, but still recognizable as Velma. Gina Rodriguez though? Honestly, it just sounds like she’s acting it straight. Not bad acting at all, by any means - she just doesn’t sound like Velma, and doesn’t seem to be trying to. (Honestly wondering if she was only hired bc she voices Carmen Sandiego in the reboot cartoon for the lolz fun reference! type connection) 

Daphne is sort of similar in voices, but hers is more of a pitch her voice hits - Heather North, Mary Kay Bergman, and Grey Delisle Griffin all have that pitch they hit naturally when speaking. Amanda Seyfried? Does not - in fact, her voice is actually deeper than I was expecting - but it’s not quite as big a difference as it is for Velma. It fits her character type okay, and she does well with it overall.  

And finally, the most controversial one: Will Forte’s Shaggy. 

I’ll go ahead and say this: he’s not Scott Menville levels of bad Shaggy voice acting. If I were to place him on a list, I’d probably put him around Billy West level - kind of sounds similar via vocal tics (voice cracking, likes and zoinks, etc), but his own voice just overtakes the impression he’s seeking to hit. When I hear him speak, I don’t really hear Shaggy; I just hear Will Forte trying to do an impression of Shaggy. 

In comparison: when Scott Innes took over for Shaggy, it was like Casey Kasem’s, just a touch more of a twang to his voice and just a dash over-the-top - but it was still Shaggy, and you didn’t doubt that for a minute.

Same thing for Lillard, but maybe moreso - he was pretty much the most perfect casting for a live-action Shaggy there could be at the time Scooby Doo (2002) was made. Him taking over for Kasem from there made perfect sense: he was honestly the best cast Mystery Inc member of the live-actions, and a lot more recognizable to the general public as Shaggy than Scott Innes was. He could also do different emotions with Shaggy that not a lot of the other voice actors had the chance to do (mainly bc script), so for future stuff they have that flexibility, if they wanted to play around a little more. 

With any luck Forte will get better over the course of the movie, but honestly the casting could have been so much better with Matt Lillard and Kate Micucci. 

----

Shaggy Rogers, evading taxes since 2020

----

siMON COWELL??!? 

WHAT THE

WHY?!?!?

ALSO HIS CHARACTER DESIGN STYLE IS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE REST OF THE GANG WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON?!!?

IS HE SUPPOSED TO BE THE SD CELEBRITY CAMEO

LIKE

IF YOU WERE GOING TO DO A CAMEO FROM AMERICAN IDOL WHY NOT RYAN SEACREST 

HE TOOK OVER FOR CASEY KASEM ON THE AMERICAN TOP 40 WOULDN’T THAT MAKE MORE SENSE

aaauuuggghhh

---

Also he’s there as a potential investor in Mystery Inc as a detective agency

A music industry professional… is interested in funding a detective agency.

Like… did he miss out on Josie & the Pussycats? Is that why he’s here?

----

Wait a minute

Oh noooooo

I know why he’s here

I remember this spoiler

Shit

-----

And once again, here is your reminder to tell Simon Cowell a great big fcuk you

Only this time it’s for making Shaggy and Scooby feel worthless and saying that friendship is worthless and cannot be counted on for anything worthwhile

Simon Cowell: Professional Dickhead

---

Welp, at least this gives a solid reason why they leave: Simon Cowell was being a professional dickhead, and the gang didn’t really say anything against him or interrupt him on his whole ‘Shag and Scoob are worthless spiel’

Or, well... Daphne stepped up some, but more to say ‘they’re our friends!’ rather than ‘that’s entirely wrong, our friends aren’t worthless!’ Better than nothing, but yeesh

----

Ahhh, Takamoto Bowling - the emptiest bowling alley in the evenings this side of Coolsville 

(no seriously, the past few times my dad has taken my sister and me bowling pre-pandemic, no matter the day or time? it’s ALWAYS got more than 6 lanes of people there, what the heck)

Also Scooby wears three bowling shoes, which honestly makes more sense than I thought it would - that pup goes spinning and sliding every which way on a normal floor, bowling alley floors would be like ten times worse

----

here’s a nice little detail - when Scooby sees one of the bowling pins peek out with red eyes and he yells that to Shaggy, Shaggy actually squints and walks closer to see if it actually does have eyes

aww

----

Huh, okay 

Panicked Will Forte Shaggy actually sounds more like a good Shaggy voice than normal talking Will Forte Shaggy

I can dig it

---

Still kind of underwhelmed by the Shag and Scoob disguise scene - wouldn’t it make more sense to have them like, dish up hot sauce or something on a plate that nonsensically makes the robots overheat before they discover their ruse?

Idk, maybe they’re off their game after Simon ‘Dickhead’ Cowell

---

Carlton Way - must be named after Fred’s only other voice actor, Carlton Stevens of PNSD

Also Hanna’s Barber Shop is next to Barbera’s Pizza! Cute.

And… Pitstop’s Pink Perfume ad. Wait, who is that? *assorted googling noises*

...ahhh, Penelope Pitstop from Wacky Races! Who, according to Wikipedia, was revealed to have Greek ancestry in the 2016 Wacky Raceland comic book, having been born on the island of Aegina

Now I’m wondering if we’ll see her in this too, given Cerberus...

----

Honestly kind of fascinating to see the gang with a police radio in their van

Also fascinating to see that only main characters are allowed clothing variety and texture/creases/folds

---

it’s actually really sweet to see Fred, upon hearing that Shag and Scoob are likely in danger, immediately makes a 90 degree turn in traffic

---

It looks like they changes Dee Dee’s name a hair - now it’s Dee Dee Skyes, instead of Sykes

It works well for the Falcon aesthetic, so that’s cool

----

Shaggy, after Dee Dee tells them that Dastardly’s trying to kill them: Scoob, someone thinks we’re important enough to *mimes slitting throat*!

Scooby: It’s nice to be wanted.

Excellent! This movie has captured Shag and Scoob’s blasé attitude towards death! Now we’re onto a solid Scooby film :D

Dee Dee: Hmm, I hear that!

And they even have a friend to share in their attitude! Splendid!

----

Christ, I can work photoshop better than Blue Falcon can, and I don’t even know how to use photoshop

I will give major kudos on his costume tho - it maintains the important elements of the OG Falcon, while still updating it with more bird-related aesthetic, like the feathered appearance of parts of his costume, the split cape resembling the tail feathers, and the talon gauntlets & boots. neat!

---

Yooo, Dynomutt, I thought secret identities were still a thing with Superheroes, what the hey are you doing giving it out to a duo you literally just picked up behind a bowling alley

Ngl, I’m kinda hoping we get some scenes where Dynomutt messes up a little like in the OG cartoon - this one feels really serious, which is kind of strange

---

Okay now I want to see older!Blue Falcon come in for a cameo

Mainly bc I’m getting the feeling that this one is a major dumbass, and not in the fun and friendly himbo kind of way 😑

---

Wait, THAT’S our first look at Dastardly? That’s a bit abrupt, isn’t it?

Also his ship must be pumping thousands of gallons of toxins into the air, that smoke cloud looks hideous. Forget logging into his mom’s Netflix account like the trailer said, EPA should probably be hunting him for sport with a laser cannon, jesus fcuking christ

---

Honestly kinda want a plane you can pilot like a motorbike now

---

Welp, it looks like we have a fun, mustache-twirly, puns-aplenty, loves-to-be-bad kind of villain on our hands folks! This is gonna be FUN AS HECK

---

Eurgh, this scene - the super-stiff-but-stretched-out ‘yeeurgh’ faces really squick me for some reason, but I can’t really pinpoint why

---

I have decided I highly dislike the Brian Blue Falcon, or Brian Falcon for short, and would like to see Dastardly tie him to some railroad tracks

---

North St for Heather North, and… wait… Funland Carnival? Like where Charlie the Robot hung out?

Apparently that’s in Romania.

A very yellow-greenfilter Romania at that.

 Like, I’ve seen blue washes on movies trying to portray evening in the middle of the day so they don’t actually have to shoot at night, but yellow? That’s normally used for deserts and hot days and uhhh 

NOT for evenings in a country with landscape like THIS

odd

(I mean I guess they got the mountains and trees right, but still. Yellow filters make a place look arid, which Romania is Not, to my knowledge)

----

Dude, Brian Falcon is such an idiot even Shaggy and Scooby, commonly portrayed as the idiots of Mystery Inc, look at him like he’s a moron.

(They are Not Amused.)

Also Brian Falcon is an absolute coward. That’s new. Even Shaggy and Scooby face off against the robots directly in a Whack-a-Mole game and destroy some. Dude, get your head in the fcuking game already, yikes

--

Woah, Laff-a-Lympics, Wacky Races, Hex Girls, The Banana Splits, Penelope Pitstop, Space Stars, Posse Impossible, and Hong Kong Phooey easter eggs in one shot

Geezus

--- 

Another nice moment: when cornered by Dastardly, Shaggy moves to stand in front of Scooby to protect him

---

Dastardly (to Shaggy): I don’t care about YOU. You’re not REMOTELY important!

*proceeds to shoot Shaggy THROUGH the ceiling and up into the highest car on a Ferris Wheel where Brian Falcon is hiding like a man baby*

Welp, so much for a fun and zany villain. Time for this Plush Anon to kill a bitch *cocks shotgun*

I will, too - kudos to the animators for hurting me so badly with the face Shaggy made right before being shot because

OW

---

Ehehehhehe, yess, the infamous ‘Dick’ scene

Dastardly: No, I’m a DICK. With a D!

You sure are, you sack of dildos with a D!

This scene had to be put in on purpose - if this had been released in theaters, I just know the adults would be dying in laughter 🤣🤣🤣

----

Shaggy: Brian, do something! 

Brian Falcon: Like what?

Shaggy: Like, drop some F-Bombs!

love it 😂

---

Is it like movie law now, that if there’s an action scene with a Ferris Wheel in the background, it has to fall off and roll down a mild incline like a wheel? Because it kinda feels like it

---

Aha! Dastardly said his drats! Perfection.

Now to shoot him through a ceiling to make them matter even more :D

---

OOF. 

Well that hurt. 

Poor Shaggy - basically internalizing now that he’s the worthless one and weak link of the group now that Scooby is considered more important

---

Holy fcuk I’m crying

Shaggy just broke Brian Falcon down to his deepest insecurities without even trying while talking to him

He even used the words ‘imposter syndrome’ 

Shaggy hon, you’re the best

----

Oh hey, Fred, Daphne, and Velma! It’s been a while since we saw you guys again, what are you doing?

Arguing about the metric system and realizing that Shaggy and Scooby reminding them to eat periodically helped them keep a clearer head...

And using the word ‘hangry’.

But then looking through a ridiculously cute photo album of the two and a video the gang took together (the video is honestly really heckin’ cute, 10000/10 would recommend)...

And then getting pulled over so Fred can have a brief ‘oo-la-la’ montage about the pretty blonde cop who honest-to-gods looks like a Barbie doll.

Where Daphne then describes how ugly Dastardly is...

Right before the petite blonde cop who’s maybe like 5’7” at best rips off her outfit to reveal it was Dick Dastardly this entire time, all 7ish feet of him.

And then kidnaps them all along with the Mystery Machine while he makes terribly fun dorky puns

…

...SO BACK TO SCOOBY AND SHAGGY...

---

...where Scooby is making kissy faces in the mirror while wearing his Blue Falcon uniform

Hrm, that’s not really better is it

We actually see Shaggy reading (OG) Blue Falcon’s autobiography, and making hurt but snide comments about Scooby’s ego

Which are actually pretty clever tbh

-----

Cooooooongratulations, Fred Jones! You are now officially a full-on himbo!

----

Alas, poor Daphne. While your knowledge of the tropes of your show might have served you well in other places, this was to be a theatrical release once upon a time, and so such knowledge falls to ruin.

----

You know, I just realized - we’re never really told HOW the Cerberus skulls work, both in how each skull can be used to find the others,  and, presumably, in releasing Cerberus itself. We’re given a brief glance-over of Scooby’s ancestry (and I mean REALLY damn brief), and a quick mention that these are supposed to be Cerberus’ skulls being stolen, but… that’s it. Nothing else is given. 

Now, I read the first few chapters of my SCOOB! Junior Novelization, and it actually went into further detail about the skulls themselves and what Dastardly’s initial plan was early in the book - open the gates of Hades and obtain the seas of treasure therein. It acted as an introduction both to the climatic endgame we’ll face at the end of the movie, and to Dastardly, who uses the same disguise trick he used as the Barbie cop when he stole the first one in South America. 

(They actually DID plan to use this as Dastardly’s intro, but cut this… 3 minute scene for time. Yeah. See below video for the details - honestly think they should have kept it in. Saves time later and definitely more show than tell, compared to what we got)

I feel like that would be a better introduction to him than the one we got - hell, it would have fit in quite neatly after the revamped theme song montage. They could have the scene with Dastardly finding/stealing the first skull as an introduction (as above), then have him answer a call or something. Exposit openly “You found the key! Excellent! Now where are we going next?” 

THEN cut to the diner/coffee shop scene we had earlier. We still wouldn’t know exactly what the key was/entailed off the bat, and they could still have FD&V find out on their own - maybe by hacking the little robot instead? IDK.

---

The final skull is on Messick Mountain.

Cute.

On a side note, I do love how Dastardly’s ship interior looks - very dieselpunk

---

Velma just hacked into Dynomutt… somehow, and I finally get my wacky Dynomutt shenanigans!  Hazoo!

...sadly that was really dang brief. Realistic, yes, but still too brief. 

---

Eyyyy, we finally get the whys of why Scooby is needed! … really dang fast. 

Also Fred says Jinkies. 

----

Hey, Muttley popped up! In a shrine… to his demise… that we find out he reached when Dastardly pushed him forward into the Underworld to steal the treasure of Alexander the Great in a portal he rigged up… only for both of them to find out it was a one-way deal unless they used the key to be able to come back. The key, of course, being Scooby Doo, descendent of Peritas, Alexander’s dog. 

Eh, workable enough-ish. It’s interesting to see that Dastardly, despite how much he disliked Muttley in the older cartoons, still cares about him to a certain extent. 

---

Pfff, Fred’s a poor man’s Hemsworth XD

---

Sweet, we’re in ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’ now!

---

Um

O W W W

You guys really had to do the ‘me or them’ thing with Shaggy and Scooby… and tHeN hAvE sCoObY cHoOsE tHe FaLcONs?!? Just because they said he was important as “the key” and gave him a spandex costume.

Over at least 7 years of friendship. 

Booooooooooooo

---

actually no I’m Not Done Yet

This whole scene is a mess.

Like

Shaggy’s turn was really dang fast… but I can still see how he gets to it. It’s at least a day between Scooby being chosen as a pseudo-sidekick and the island arrival, during which Shaggy’s talk with the main adult (who has taken up the mantle of his favorite superhero) essentially confirms his feelings of worthlessness and leaves him to stew for HOURS on end (on top of another adult, Dastardly, who also calls him “not even REMOTELY important” at the carnival before freaKING SHOOTING HIM THROUGH THE CEILING NO I AM NOT OVER THIS). Tie that to a teenager who also believes his only friends have come to think he’s meaningless baggage, and suddenly his entire support system is vanishing underneath him to one of his former idols without ANY sign of hesitation from Scooby’s part (with the exception of the collar scene, but I don’t think that that means the same to Scooby, given how quickly he bounces back)

Scooby tho… hrm. It could be that he’s clinging to the good feelings Brian Falcon inspires in him (by choosing him as the next possible Dynomutt), as a way to overpower how FD&V hurt him, while also building on how he came to love the duo because SHAGGY loved them so much. But the movie doesn’t frame that up… at all?? At least compared to Shaggy. 

Idk, maybe I’m missing something, but this scene is a mess through and through

Boooooo

----

Scooby: *tries to leap into Brian Falcon’s arms like he did with Shaggy but falls*

Brian: Uh, what are you doing?

Scooby: Rhaggy never missed. 

Damn straight he didn’t

---

oh hey, it’s Captain Caveman

I was wondering when we’d see him.

---

AAAUUGGHH

It’s that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it scene from the trailers I sobbed over - the one with Shaggy holding Scooby’s collar

Fun fact it actuALLY FADES INTO THE FLASHBACK

THAT WAS NOT A TRAILER THING THAT’S ACTUALLY HERE IN THE MOVIE

OW

---

Oh No

Fred is here, alone, after that whole scene with Dastardly saying he had a use for Fred

...while that’s likely Dastardly in a Fred suit (that sounds creepy just typing it), I’m still going to enjoy this brief but absolutely lovely hug Shaggy and Fred share...

(seriously tho, look at this, it’s a genuinely close, squish-your-lungs-out kind of hug, I love it)

...as well as Shaggy, who's still hurt from his fight with Scooby, immediately gearing up to go help him after hearing Dastardly’s trying to kidnap him.

----

Brian Falcon and Scooby Doo now have to take on Captain Caveman in gladiatorial combat in order to claim the final skull of Cerberus

I love cartoons sometimes

----

Captain Caveman just put the smackdown on Brian Falcon and punched him into the ground up to his CHEST

Then smacked him so far into a wall he cracked the stone around him!

GodDAMN is this satisfying 😆 altho minor question here: how did he gain the rank of Captain? Do cavepeople have a naval force?

---

He just whirled Scooby around his head, then spun him so fast his costume broke off

I may have to look into some Captain Caveman stuff now, that’s fantastic

---

Shaggy and Fred - sorry, “Fred” -  just smashed through to the colosseum in the Mystery Machine

And Dynomutt just fired missiles at Captain Caveman to smash him into an Amigara-shaped hole of himself

I REALLY love cartoons sometimes

---

Oh No

Just as Shaggy starts trying to apologize, “Fred” kicks him in the back, rips off his disguise to normal Dastardly self, and kidnaps Scooby atop the skull, before revealing he destroyed the Falcon Fury jet

New tagline for this movie? Shaggy Rogers and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day

...at least the rest of the gang is back together?

---

Brian Falcon: *Immediately tries to blame Shaggy for inadvertently leading Dastardly to them, while storming up to get in his face*

Fred: *upon realizing BrianF is blaming Shaggy for everything, without a SINGLE moment’s hesitation, immediately leaps in to defend Shaggy and physically push back Brian Falcon several feet*

We stan one Himbo, theydies and gentlethem

Also?

Velma (sneering): What kind of hero blames other people for his problems? *Walks over to comfort Shaggy with Daphne, while Shaggy looks dumbfounded they’re defending him bc he also blames himself for Scooby’s kidnapping*

This. This right here, is the kind of Mystery gang content I wanna see.

I don’t care how the rest of this movie goes now, this scene right here is ambrosia to the Scooby fan’s soul, and therefore makes this entire movie worth it, outdated memes, lingo, and all

---

Cackling rn - Fred and Brian Falcon are in a point-off a la the Spiderman meme 😂

or, more specifically, the post-credits sequence of Spiderverse where they’re arguing about who started pointing first

It gets better when Velma and Daphne try to pull each other off of their pushing fight, and Velma grumbles “Toxic Masculinity” I’m crying

---

WOAH

More super Shaggy stuff here (apart from being flung through a building roof without a scratch) - he pushes apart both groups effortless, and even knocks them back several feet

If we estimate Dynomutt as… we’ll say 450 since he’s made of metal, Falcon at 220, Dee Dee at 160, that’s about 830 lbs on one side

Then Fred, Daphne and Velma on the other (hmm, 180, 150, 130?) would be around 460 lbs

Dang boi

---

Oh honey no, it’s not your fault

But dang if he didn’t get a good message from it, one I’ve done my best to transcribe here:

“I was afraid that... things were gonna change. And they did change. But like, that’s okay! People can grow. But it doesn’t mean that we’re growing apart. Because the one thing that will never change is that Scooby Doo is my best friend! Ten years ago, a little boy made a promise to a stray puppy that he’d never leave him no matter what. And I’m gonna keep that promise! Now it’s time we stopped that mustachioed menace from opening the gates to the {underworld} and letting loose that fearsome {Cerberus}. So what do you say we get out {of here}, and go get my always-snacking, never-lacking, often-napping dog back? Who’s with me?”

Honestly not a bad message for kids. Things will change, people will change, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop being friends. (Obvs real life exceptions apply, but that’s not a bad note honestly)

...shame that that conclusion comes right the FUCK outta nowhere

Like

How, exactly, did he come to this conclusion? WHEN? What inspired him to realize this, what was the impetus for this specific line of thought, that it’s okay for friends to change?

It kinda feels like this should have been either the happy ending speech given after they’ve saved the world, or one at the start of the third act, like if Shaggy arrives when Scooby thinks he’s chased him away and ruined everything, and Shaggy & the gang still save him. And Scooby asks him why he did that - when Scooby tried to change himself to fit what Brian Falcon wanted, instead of treasuring the friend he still had, or maybe why Shaggy reacted the way he did. THEN Shaggy gives the speech we hear, a la:

“I yelled at you because… like, because I was scared. I was scared that... things were gonna change. And they did change. But like, that’s okay! People can grow. But it doesn’t mean that we’re growing apart. Because the one thing that will never change is that YOU’RE my best friend! Ten years ago, a little boy made a promise to a stray puppy that he’d never leave him no matter what. And I mean to keep it!” 

At least that would make a little more sense to me. Again, not a bad speech, but a little rearranging would help to really hit home. 

---

Okay, now we’re back with Dastardly in Greece, and suddenly the background people all look MILES better than the ones at the start of the movie. Did they just forget to polish the first two minutes of film, what the heck?

Also, Dastardly’s ship is literally the entire length of the Greek ruins presented o_O

---

HOLY SHIT THE SKULLS TURNED BACK TIME AND MADE THE RUINS INTO AN ENTIRELY RESTORED PALACE WITH THE GATES OF THE UNDERWORLD BEFORE THEM

They’re also colored a very atmospheric neon arrangement that’s surprisingly quite tasteful ^.^

----

The Mystery Machine can fly now!!! eeheeheeeheeheeheeheeee

----

And so we finally see Cerberus, a massive, towering figure with sharp teeth and pffffffhahahhahaa why are all three heads wearing Spartan helmets

To its credit, they’re also wearing basic body armor, wrist guards, tail spikes, etc, but the helmets are killing me 🤣 who thought to stick that onto the dog? Did Hades forget to remove the armor after winning the Gods’ Pet Costume Contest, or was it like that horse in the ATV costume - it felt safer so it didn’t let anyone take it off?

Or was this a precaution against Herakles coming back? These are questions - hilarious, hilarious questions 😁

---

Awww. Scooby immediately runs to the battered Mystery Machine to rip the doors open for the gang!

And… wait. THIS is where that wonderful hug was in the trailers? I thought that was at the end of the movie when everyone was safe!

This now does not bode well. But we’ll worry about that later. Time to enjoy this gorgeous wonderful hug of the entire gang, and Shag and Scoob apologizing to each other for fighting 🥰

Yet another scene to make the rest of this movie worth the rest

(halfway wanna frame this shit and put it on the wall, it’s that lovely)

----

Fantastic! Dastardly is now in Hell, where I’ve been wishing him this entire movie! :D

And dang… he actually apologizes to what he believes is a dead Muttley. Who is, naturally, snickering at all of this. The two bicker predictably, but eventually hug and make up, too happy to see each other to resort to old habits. Honestly a nice little scene, all-in-all. 

---

Back to the gang and they’re doing the glowy eyes in the dark bit! I actually haven’t seen that in a Scooby movie forever, it’s neat.

Also Fred is now going full Liam Neeson over his van, war paint and all, using the tire cover as a shield and… holy shit. 

HOLY SHIT

THE ASCOT IS BAAAnnnnnd it’s gone. Boy, that was… short. 

Fred just ran full-tilt at Cerberus, screaming like a mad man, before getting flicked away by its big toe, and losing the ascot and makeshift shield. It punched so hard his facepaint came off

It was fun while it lasted y’all

---

Heyyy, Shag and Scoob just came up with the plan, and it’s actually solid! I’m so proud, and so is the rest of the gang! Also willingly going to distract Cerberus while the rest figure out how to close the gate and stuff Cerberus back in

I love my boys 😊

---

Annnnd there goes Brian Falcon like the coward he is

To… call his dad? And admit he isn’t a hero.

Only for Dynomutt to point out Shaggy and Scooby are taking him on and are terrified. 

This then cuts to Shaggy and Scooby running around in a chariot and gladiator wear, running back and forth a la the door gag from Cerberus to the OG SDWAY theme

I think I love this movie

(although they’re hinting at Dynomutt being resentful of OG Blue Falcon essentially abandoning him to his incompetent son, and I really wish it had been touched upon more

that’s actually rather heartbreaking, when you stop to think about it, and there’s a lot that could be done with an additional two minutes of screentime) 

---

Huh, another good message for kids: it’s okay to fail and be scared, so long as you keep going and try to do what’s right.

Two good messages for kids in one movie. Not too shabby, on the whole. 

---

Brian Falcon just flew in and punched the three-headed dog, then jumped into its mouth as it tried to eat Scooby, resisted the MASSIVE JAW STRENGTH, and got them out of there safe and sound

Finally, something heroic!

-- 

I was wondering where Dastardly and Muttley got off to - apparently they’re off to take a money bath.

Aight

---

Shag and Scoob have now convinced the Rotten Robots to turn into bowling balls to knock Cerberus off their feet a la the classic marbles pratfall back into the underworld

That is a sentence I just wrote

----

OH FCUK NO

NO

ABSOLUTELY NOT NO

YOU ARE TELLING US THAT AFTER ALL OF THIS - ALL OF THIS - ONE OF THEM HAS TO STAY IN THE UNDERWORLD TO LOCK THE GATE

THAT OCTOBER LEAKER WAS RIGHT WHAT THE HELL

LITERALLY SO

I mean i know its a kids film specifically Scooby Doo so happy ending but what the literal FUCK

---

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUGGHHH

SHAGGY NOOOO

“Buddy, back when we were kids, you saved me. Now, it’s my turn.”

and he dOES THIS WHILE HOLDING SCOOBY’S HEAD TENDERLY IN HIS HANDS

AND WHEN EVERYTHING REVERTS IT’S JUST RUBBLE AND RUIN AND SCOOBY’S LEFT SOBBING OPENLY AT NOTHING

AND THE GANG ALL COME TO CLING AT HIM AND CRY OVER THEIR FRIEND WHO THOUGHT HE WAS WORTHLESS MOST OF THE MOVIE AND THOUGH THAT THE GANG THOUGHT THE SAME ABOUT HIM

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGHHHHH

---

WELP, TIME TO COPE WITH INAPPROPRIATE HUMOR

Shaggy: I yelled at my dog, got him kidnapped, and ended up helping the bad guy to open the gates to Hell. Guess I’ll die. 

Dee Dee: Well actually, this is more Dastardly’s fault because -

Shaggy, yelling as he slams his hand against the lock: GUESS I’LL DIE!!!

----

Ah, so the writers wrote themselves into a corner, and the only way out was a Deus Ex Machina (at least, I think I’m using that term correctly…) 

Because to get Shaggy back, a giant statue of Alexander the Great and Peritas appears out of nowhere - literally, since it definitely wasn’t there before - with an inscription Scooby has to read to get Shaggy back.

This would have been a lot more effective if we’d seen it when Dastardly arrived in Greece - maybe even as the marker for where the gate to the Underworld was. Have Alexander facing one way, and Peritas facing the other. You open the gate on Alexander’s side, and come home on Peritas’ side. Having this unfold into the gate gives it more purpose than “magically appears right the fcuk outta nowehere” and you could have a pun with the “backdoor” escape. Everybody wins!

And if that’s too good for ya, how about a brief lingering shot by it at some point as Dastardly flies into Greece, behind where the gate materializes, or directly across from it on the plaza? Maybe have one of the gang kick it after Shaggy leaves, and say ‘This is all your fault! Why would you make something like this?’

It’d still be a magical contrivance, but at least it would make some fcuking SENSE.

(Granted it DID lead to this hilariously ominous shot, so maybe I shouldn’t complain:)

---

Velma: I finally figured out what you guys are! You’re the heart of Mystery Inc.

Me: YEAH BABY! *flips over table* I’VE BEEN SAYING THAT SHIT FOR YEARS AND NOW, I’M FCUKING VALIDATED AT LAAAAAAAAST!

----

Shaggy: *rips off Dastardly’s face to reveal…*

ALL: SIMON COWELL??!?

Me, choking on food: I’m sorry WHAT?!?!?

Velma: *takes off mask again to reveal*

ALL: DICK DASTARDLY?!?

Dastardly: Drat! No one ever goes for the double unmasking. 

So I was right all along - Simon Cowell truly was a Dick this entire time.

-----

And so we close on the gang unveiling a Mystery Machine paint job on their official detective agency building, Brian Falcon living the good life as the DJ at their party, the Falcon team gifting a sleek new Mystery Machine to the gang (which honestly looks pretty unique - it’s not the classic, but it is something new that isn’t awful, so kudos there), and the gang on their way to another mystery.

So, at the end of the day is this a good Scooby movie? 

Meh? *waves hand in meh motion* But it definitely had its moments. 

This Scooby film is flawed as heck, no doubt about it - the plot has a MAJOR problem with telling instead of showing, some parts feeling out of order or WAY too short, and of course the deus ex machina ending. I honestly would have loved some more time for their first mystery as kids, where we actually got more character moments/bonding from Fred, Daphne, and Velma as they solved it the more traditional route, as well as not framing FD&V as super duper mystery solvers right off the bat??? 

The stuff with Blue Falcon isn’t AWFUL, per se, but it is ridiculously satisfying to see him get smacked around. Captain Caveman was honestly one of the funniest bits in the movie, same with Dynomutt. 

As far as the character stuff? It all felt fairly natural, progression-wise. Shag and Scoob don’t have this big break-up with the gang - they’re hurt by the literal Dickhead’s comments the gang don’t speak up against, and go to blow off some steam together. Shag and Scoob don’t have this giant blow-up argument - it builds over the film into a hurt spat they both recognize they overreacted to almost immediately. The gang (FDV) go looking for them almost as soon as they leave, and, upon hearing they’re in danger, turn and head towards them to save them, realizing how important the two are to Mystery Inc along the way. They defend each other, help each other, have some of the Best Dang Animated Mystery Inc hugs I ever did see - THIS feels more like the Gang I’ve been waiting for forever to come back to DTV (and in a rough sense, did). While I do wish we’d gotten more screen time of FD&V, what we got wasn’t too bad. 

Weirdly enough, at the end of the day, I’ve actually grown more accustomed to Forte’s Shaggy - it feels like it fits this different style a touch more than I originally thought, and holy hell if I didn’t come close to tears at that ending gate scene, he knocked that one out of the park.  Velma still doesn’t feel much like Velma, but I did get used to it by the end. I kept cracking up at Efron’s Fred, and no complaints on Seyfried’s Daphne.

Jason Isaacs as Dick Dastardly absolutely killed it. Blue Falcon Crew was okay (excepting Mark “The Racist” Wahlburg - it was just him talking, no real effort. You could recognize Wahlburg right off the bat, acting as a goofy douche) and freaking Captain Caveman was awesome. Apparently they combined both Billy West and Don Messick’s recordings for Muttley (awesome!!!), so this may very well be Don Messick’s final role in a Scooby Doo film. 

It got off to a rough start, but ended well enough. The animation was solid, the writing has some unexpectedly clever and funny moments sprinkled throughout, with some pretty fun action sequences on the side. Watching this, I really do believe that the people working on it love Scooby Doo and all things Hanna-Barbera… at least in their own way. 

I ended up buying this instead of just renting it ($5 more, why not) and I am honestly glad I did so. Despite its flaws, it has some great moments with the gang as friends, and I have been Craving That Shit for DECADES

And if these writers/directors ever did another Scooby film? I think I’d be up for giving them a chance - at least so long as we got some more absolutely BEAUTIFUL hugs with the gang

I hope you enjoyed this stream-of-consciousness reaction to SCOOB! (2020)... a whole ass year LATER, admittedly (I didn’t switch my Save Post to Queue, curse my hubris), but hopefully y’all’ve been entertained. Good night everybody!

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Safety In Numbers (SpicyHoneyMustard, lemon)

Summary:  Red knows how to play the game. The only problem is, not everyone gets out unscathed.

Tags: SpicyHoneyMustard, Fontcest, Fellcest, Sibling Incest, Threesome, Background Kustard, Established Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, LEMONY GOODNESS!!, Unhealthy Relationship, Unnamed Ship

Sequel to:

Showtime

Secret Garden

A Judicious Amount of Effort

Musically Inclined

Lest You Be Judged

Solo Act 

Appealing To Better Judgment

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Refuge.

That was what Toriel named the protected Monster settlement that rose up at the base of the mountain, for all the Monsters who either couldn’t or wouldn’t live in Ebott.

Red supposed if there was nothing else, they could all thank her for sparing them from whatever dumb shit Ass-gore would’ve called it, like New New Home.

Despite all the treaties and negotiations, there were plenty of Monsters still living there. Some found that once they set their feet on the grass, they were about as far away from the mountain as they cared to get. Some were plain afraid to live out amongst the Humans. And a fair few simply weren’t allowed to leave, their little laminated ID cards didn’t grant them clearance through the front gate. Monsters with LV, Monsters with an appearance that might be considered disturbing. Any Monster likely to hit a ten on the Human freak-o-meter wasn’t allowed out not yet, anyway. Made sense, really. If they scared the shit out of the Humies by going too fast, they’d be lucky if they only ended up chased back beneath the mountain and not used as potting soil.

Try telling that to the dumbfucks, though. Red kept an ear hole close to the ground for any incoming gossip and from what was coming down the line it looked like the Assholes of Asgore were using it as a recruiting point. Red suspected that they didn’t have only have the interest of one or two disgruntled folks.

Anyone with half a lick of sense should see through their bullshit, but if Red was supposed to count on any of the dipshits he knew underground having common sense, he might as well shove a bone through his own soul now and spare anyone else the trouble of dusting him.

Their real goal was to start the bloody war Asgore promised them all and if they managed it, well, it was gonna be a pretty damn short one. Magic was handy dandy, all right, but the Humans kinda outnumbered them a million to one. Hell, while they’d been down below twiddling their thumbs, the Humans figured out their own version of magic, one that was a fuckton more explosive than anything Monsters had on tap. If Red was a betting man, and he was, thanks, he knew which odds he was putting down on.

Red looked out the tinted window of the car driving him through the newly paved streets of Refuge, watching the scenery pass by. Much as he hated being chauffeured around, these days he didn’t have a whole lot of choice. Back when he was training in the guard, there was still some opportunity to skulk around. Strip away his uniform and its delta rune crest, and he was only another Monster with a shitty attitude wandering into Grillby’s for a drink.

Being Chosen took away any chance he had of wandering around unnoticed. Even if Red slipped away from Rus, his face was too well-known now and probably rated a solid six on the Humies freak-o-meter.

If he thought the chucklefucks throwing themselves at Rus’s feet begging for blessings were annoying, it was a damn sight worse when they tried that shit on him. As if he had any say in the way the Universe trundled on down the road. He wasn’t the one second in the queue to chat with the Angel, thanks, and none of the Divine had seen fit to give him their direct line.

Shame Edge didn’t let him fuck with them; a few broken fingers and a bruise or two might give them all a little peace, but eh, his bro was a spoilsport that way. His own fault for leaving the kid on his own years ago while he skulked off to join the guard, instead of sticking around to teach him what’s what. Edge’s code of morals didn’t line up so much with Red’s anymore and wasn’t that a bitch.

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook one out, ignoring the sour look the driver gave him in the rearview mirror. They didn’t say a peep, though, kept whatever words they wanted to say locked up tight behind their tusks. Being Chosen did have a few perks other than risking his life and getting to spend plenty of quality time communing with Rus’s pussy.

Red lit the cigarette with a harsh rasp of his lighter, took a long drag of smoke and breathed it out as he leaned his skull against the cool window glass, watching the blurred landscape. The streets were lined with cheaply made carbon-copy houses, but there wasn’t a whole lotta room to complain about that. The first few months most of ‘em spent huddled in patched-up tents given to them by the reluctant Human government, miserable in the spring rain and mud that tried to suck off your shoes with every step. Far as Red was concerned, all Monsters should be damned grateful for a house to call their own and if someone wanted their place shaped like a fucking fish, they were gonna have to wait their turn.

Yeah, lots of Monsters struggled when they hit sunshine, trying to wrap their minds around everything that happened. Red wasn’t one of them. He’d been Chosen only days after his boots hit the ground, but he’d spent some time out in the mudholes, searching out threats against his freshly appointed Judge. He’d learned a few useful tricks before putting on a uniform and they sure did come in handy from time to time.

These days, Red didn’t get out as much anymore. Maybe if Rus had more Chosen than only him and Edge, he could’ve kept up with it, but it hadn’t worked out that way. The kid needed him, all of him, and that was that.

Inconvenient, yeah, but probably just as well. Kept him from having to hold the lid down on his boiling need to shiv anyone who fucking dared touch what was his. He played nice enough when it came to all the unity mumbo jumbo bullshit, the Judge was an avatar of the Angel, the Judge belonged to the people, yeah, sure, he’d toe the party line.

But when it came to laying hands on his boy there was only one other Monster with the right. He was as much Red’s as Rus was and that’d be true until the day Red shivered to dust.

So, yeah, he couldn’t do the footwork himself anymore, eh, sucks to suck. Instead, he was forced to rely on other Monsters to keep him rolling in that sweet, sweet info. He’d vetted all of them himself, checked into every detail of their lives all the way back to the day they dropped from their mama’s cooch. Every single one of them was loyal as fuck to the Angel and as willing to spy on each other as they were anyone else, and that right there helped weed out most of the trouble. Wasn’t a perfect method, but it usually worked pretty well and let Red keep his fingers hooked into a few pies. That was, whenever he could pull 'em out of Rus's desserts.

Right now, all his people were working overtime, trying to dig up some dirt on how those fuckers managed to get into the cafeteria to take a pot shot at Rus. When they finally got something concrete, Red planned to deal with it personally, and if Rus ended up giving him a Judging look over it, he didn’t much give a shit. He was Chosen for the Judge, to protect them in every way possible and if the Angel was having second thoughts about it, She could stop by and deal with it herself.

None of that had shit to do with what he was up to today.

The house his car pulled up in front of was as unremarkable as the rest, a cookie-cutter copy with different curtains and a doormat. The driveway was empty but that didn’t mean shit. He already knew they were home, had to be, because they never damn well left.

“stay here,” Red ordered the driver. He nodded silently, sodium-yellow eyes meeting Red’s in the rear-view mirror. Red got out, hopping down to the ground from the high seat with a silent grumble. He took a last drag of his cigarette and flicked the butt into the gutter. Straightening his uniform shirt was an automatic to him these days as taking his next breath. Didn’t make Red hate the fucking thing any less and he forced his hands back down as he trudged up the walkway.

He didn’t knock on the front door. Instead, he went around to the back of the house where he already knew what he would find. A turn of the corner an expansive garden was spread out before him, filled with neat rows of greenery already creeping their way out of the rich dirt.

There was a garden in every backyard in Refuge, every one of ‘em planted at the Queen’s command. Part of her plan was making sure that eventually Monsters would be as self-sufficient as possible. Couldn’t depend on the Humies to keep them in clover forever and sure they had some tech deals getting hammered out, but if there was one truth all Monsters knew, it was that G wasn’t food.

True, it wasn’t a perfect plan; some of those mandatory gardens were pretty fucking sad, brown straggly plants that might cough up a tomato or two before they kacked it. This one, though, was pristine. Red didn’t care about growing shit that couldn’t be rolled up into a blunt and knew even less about it, but even he could see the way all the plants were evenly spaced and that there wasn’t a single weed growing anywhere. Not a stray piece of grass or a single thistle dared peek out of the soil in this garden.

A Monster was kneeling in one of the plots, dressed in overalls and a funny little straw hat, a wagon next to him heaped with tools and paper bags, a small pile weeds who ignored the warning signs.

Red didn’t actually know Blue real well. When Rus talked about Blue, it was always with a wealth of fondness in his soft voice, often whispering his memories in the darkness of their bedroom whenever insomnia haunted him.

Whatever sweetness Rus remember in Blue, it was long since eroded away, torn out of him, and whether it was being Chosen, his past Judgement, or Asgore who did it didn’t much matter to the outcome.

He was one of Sans’s early Chosen, back before Red even joined the guard and the few times he’d seen Blue were when he came to assemblies to watch the trainees before they were instated as full guards. Red remembered seeing him those days; dressed to the nines in his uniform, boots polished until a person could see their reflection in them from ten steps away, every crease straight, every button fastened. Seen him a few times from a distance, too, with Sans, always a nice, respectful two steps behind him and looking as if butter wouldn’t melt between his knees. Couldn’t even picture the bastard ever getting bent over a sofa getting fucked by a desperate Judge.

(Sans was more likely to flop back and take a fucking, way back when, all sly smiles and slick pussy, knees spread wide in invitation. Whatever becoming the Judge did to him must’ve given his preferences a good topsy-turvy, ‘cause gossip in the barracks warned all the guards to be prepared for spending plenty of time on their knees)

They’d talked a few more times since then and not a single one of those chats endeared Blue to Red any more than the first.

These days Blue was pretty fucking hard to look at. His skull looked like it’d been busted apart and put back together by hands that didn’t care if the puzzle pieces didn’t fit right, parts of the bone still discolored with char. The empty left sleeve of his shirt was pinned up neatly to his shoulder and the cane leaning against his little wagon wasn’t for show. He’d survived the coup, but not by much, the only one of Sans’s chosen who didn’t die along with him, and there was a memory that Red didn’t like to take out and play with too often.

His team came in far too late, after it was all over but the vacuuming. Breaking through the barred door and walking into the leftovers of a massacre, a mass Judging, no one who’d been in the throne room came out unscathed. Blue the only one still breathing right and Sans…yeah.

Probably a wonder Blue hadn’t offed himself yet.

All that aside, it was a shame that the stick in his pelvis didn’t get yanked out along with his arm. The eye light that lit his less damaged socket was blazing sharp, and he was struggling to his feet the second Red started walking across the yard, snatching up his cane and brandishing it like a sword.

“What are you doing out here?” Blue demanded loudly. He stormed out of his garden, tracking mud across the carefully shorn grass. “You should be with Rus, he needs to be protected!”

“well, hello to you, too,” Red drawled. He stuck his hands in his pockets carelessly, rocking on his heels. “kid is fine, edge is with him.”

Blue’s dismissive scoff raked across Red’s nerves like the tines of a fork on a cheese grater. “Oh, certainly, with Edge, that’s surely impenetrable protection! Edge wasn’t even a full guard when he was Chosen!”

"might be so, but edge is the one in charge these days. you think i want out there handling that shit?" Either Blue wasn’t keeping up with the times or he was just being a prick. Either was possible, but the fact of the matter was that in public, Edge was the boss. His word was law when it came to Rus and it had a lotta spillover onto Toriel. To insinuate that he wasn’t capable of protecting the Judge was an insult about the level of hocking a juicy loogie into Red’s face and if it was anyone else, Red wouldn’t be fussed about getting the dust out of his shoelaces before he headed home. Blue caught the barest hint of a break, for Rus, but he was already fucking pushing it. Still, Red kept his voice carelessly easy, “you sound kinda worried about your bro.”

Blue shed the glove on his remaining hand and pulled a tidy bandanna out of his back pocket, mopping at the sheen of sweat on his shattered skull. “I heard about the attack, of course. Everyone has.”

“yeah?” Red raised a brow bone, reluctantly interested. “hear any useful gossip about it?”

“If I had, you would already know about it,” Blue retorted. He sighed and gestured for Red to follow him, making his staggering way up to the back porch. It was surrounded by flowering bushes, heady perfume overwhelmingly filling the air while bees flee drunkenly from blossom to blossom. Sitting on a little patio table was a carafe of lemonade, lemon slices floating amongst the ice.

Blue poured two large glasses, pushing one over to Red. He took a long drink, the tartness blotting out the nauseatingly thick reek of the flowers.

Blue took a sip from his glass, ice cubes rattling, and he dabbed away the thin stream that ran out of his cracked jaw with the bandanna. “I don’t hear most of the gossip, I’m afraid, not anymore. I’m a failed guard, the neighbors don’t exactly stop by for visits and chats.”

“You didn’t fail at shit,” Red retorted sharply. Bullshit was all that was, all because Blue managed to not die.

Red wasn’t fond of Blue, but fuck, he’d had nine toes in the dustpan when they managed to tow him back into the land of the living. He’d fucking well tried and if anyone wanted to toss in their opinion on whether they thought Blue didn’t try hard enough, they were welcome to give Red’s fat one a good ol’ suck.

Blue only let out a humorless laugh. Once, his eye lights had been a starry yellow-blue, showcasing his traits. Patience and justice, pretty good draw for a Chosen companion to the Judge. The one eye light he still had was pale and colorless now, reminiscent of Rus’s, only Blue’s was dull, doughy-blank, showing none of Rus’s vibrancy. Hard to believe anymore that these two were even brothers.

Curious that Rus’s Choosing gave him a pair of brothers with a matching trait of Determination. Made a person wonder exactly why, but neither the Angel nor the Judge were telling.

The glass in Blue’s hand rattled against his trembling fingers, the bones still yellowed and scorched. “Tell that to Sans.”

“tell him yourself,” Red lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. The cunning little device in his pocket would’ve warned Red if there was any active listening devices around, but Red hadn’t survived as long as he had without harsh lessons in watching his mouth, “i told you before, i can get you up to our rooms, no one’d ever know.”

Blue’s mouth twisted disgustedly. The movement from his jaw pulled the gaping crack over his dead socket grotesquely wider as the first real emotion winking in and out of his eye light in a flash. "And I told you, there is a reason that former Chosen aren’t allowed near the new Judge,” Blue slammed down his glass, a wave of lemonade slopping over his damaged fingers. “There's no telling how he'd react if he saw me! If he recalled I was once Chosen, he might--ugh!” Blue hunched over with a shudder of revulsion, “It's bad enough that you and your brother are servicing him."

“you questioning the judge’s choice?” Red said coolly, just this side of waspish. He didn't really give a good shit what Blue thought of it, especially considering Red’s reasons for being here to begin with, but he did wonder what Blue would think if he knew Sans popped out for a recent visit. Whispered a coupla sweet nothings while he jammed Rus’s prick East bejesus up Red’s cunt. The memory made a slick of wetness form at Red’s crotch and he shoved the memory back. Not the time and he stuffed that little reminiscence back where the one of his brother’s cock in his mouth lived, the knowledge of how it felt, soft and slick with his own come and Rus’s, carefully tucked into the furthest corner of his mind.

That tart question struck the dartboard in a bullseye. Blue faltered like he’d been jabbed right in the tailbone, sputtering out, “No, of course not, but—" He recovered, straightening his spine and that cool soldier’s expression dropped over his face, the stick in his ass jammed straight. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is the damage it could cause my brother to see me, so you can stop asking, the answer is no, it’ll always be no.”

“whatever you say,” Red shrugged, ‘cause he didn’t care, not really. Except for how desperately Rus wanted to see his fucking brother, just once, one last time. The brother he’d missed out saying goodbye to between Blue’s unconsciousness and him being Chosen. Any other Judge at least got a chance to say fare thee well and the fact that Rus lost the opportunity was just one more bar in Rus’s prison, caged in, body and soul.

Blue’s answer was about what he’d expected though, and that was fine. Another useless attempt to get him to the Embassy wasn’t Red’s real reason for coming.

“not really here about you anyway, pipsqueak,” Red said, letting the words fall lightly. “i heard papyrus is staying here with you these days.”

That little tidbit of gossip came through the vine in the wee hours last night, Red checking his phone with Rus sleeping peacefully beside him, Edge on the far side. He’d spent the rest of the night lying awake, cold fury thrumming in his soul and that was the real reason Red came all the fucking way out here for a little face to face chat. “shacking up with sans’s little brother, huh, that sure must be something.”

Papyrus was only a kid when Sans was chosen as Judge, still in striped shirts and missing his two front teeth. Biggest difference between him and Edge was the Crown gave a stipend to the families of Chosen to make up for the loss of income. Papyrus probably never had a hungry day in his life and certainly not after Sans put on the robes. His bro never had to worry if the shit wage he was earning in the guard was gonna be enough to keep a roof over his kid brother’s head or keep him in clothes when he started growing like a weed. Sans didn’t have to set aside enough for a bribe to make sure that whatever G he made actually found its way to his brother and didn’t end up lining the pocket of some greedy deliveryman.

None of that was Papyrus’s fault and sucking on a silver teat didn’t make him miss his brother any less. Kid tried the join the guard a few times and always washed out, only got to try more than once because of who his brother was. Red wondered morbidly what Blue’s stuck up, sanctimonious ass would’ve thought if Papyrus had gotten into the guard and Sans Chose him.

Now it was looking like that stick in Blue’s ass didn’t keep him from inviting Papyrus between the sheets.

Whatever color was in Blue’s skull leached away, the bone dulling to chalky white, and taking with it any hope that Blue wasn’t using that kid as a dim replacement. His gaze skittered away, hunted, skipping around the yard, looking for fuck knew what. For Sans to step out of the void with shrieking admonishments, for a stray bolt of lightning to finally strike him down and send Blue after those who went before him. There was nothing, only Red standing here holding half a glass of decent lemonade in the sunshine so many died to get.

There was nowhere else for that look to go, no escape, and finally Blue reluctantly looked at Red again. He said, raw and stiffly, “There’s nothing against the code about that.”

“no, there ain’t,” Red agreed, softly. He only met Blue’s solitary eye light evenly. Red couldn’t see into Blue’s soul but he fucking well hoped Blue felt his sins crawling their leisurely way up his spine.

Red set his lemonade down carefully before he gave into the urge to toss it glass and all right into Blue’s broken face. He turned away and started back around the house, barely off the patio when Blue called his name.

“Red?” Blue struggled for words finally asked, plaintively. “Is he happy?”

Almost Red wanted to tell Blue that they kept Rus well fucked. That his little bro looked good stuffed with cock on both ends, that he sucked dick with the expertise of a thousand G whore.

But he wasn’t about to talk about Rus like that, not even to get one up on his shitheel brother. “i like to think so. he’s a real sweetheart.”

Red made no mention of the almost desperate adoration that rose up in his soul that came from only thinking about Rus. That wasn’t for sharing time.

“Yes,” Blue said. His hoarse voice was low, subdued, “he always was. take good care of him?”

Better than you could, Red did not say. “want me to give him a message or anything?”

Blue’s melancholy faded and he shook his head immediately, "Judges are forbidden from any contact by a former Chosen or family, and I’m both. You know this.” He sounded like he was reading straight from the guard manual.

If Rus hadn’t been Chosen, he’d be here right now taking care of his piece of shit brother. Standing back helplessly while Blue fucked the old Judge’s kid brother and pretended he was someone else, and Red was a selfish enough bastard to be glad he wasn’t. “you’re right, i do. so is there?”

Blue only lifted his chin and it was a damn good thing he wasn’t a Judge, because his single eye light was loaded with resentful judgement. “No. There’s nothing I could tell him that he wouldn’t already know.”

Yeah, just as well Rus was Chosen. Blue didn’t fucking deserve to have his brother here with him.

Wasn’t a fucking thing Red could do about Papyrus; he was out of stripes and kid was gonna have to make his own bad decisions and what was Red gonna do about it anyway? Take him back home like a stray puppy he found on the streets? Tell him that he didn’t have to settle for Sans’s leftovers, remind him that it wasn’t Sans’s idea to leave any of them? That he didn’t need to live here, the two of them burying themselves into a dusty tomb that Sans wasn’t even in.

He wondered what Papyrus was getting out of it. If he was closing his sockets and played his own version of pretend.

He wondered why he even cared. Why had he come out here to Refuge, really?

“tell paps i said hi,” Red said finally, “ain’t nothing against that in the code, either.”

“I will.”

Red turned on his heel and headed back to the car before he said something he wouldn’t regret, but would hurt Rus if he ever heard about it. He lit a cigarette before they’d even pulled away from the curb and by the time they got back to the Embassy, he’d smoked his way through the entire pack.

~~*~~

When Red got back to their quarters, he was too fucking tired for the early hour of the day and faintly nauseous from too much nicotine. He closed the door carefully behind him, resetting all the alarms. His joints ached like all his frustrations seeped out of his soul and settled into them.

In their living area, Rus and Edge were sitting on opposite sofas, playing some kind of stupid card game. Rus was choosing to stay home for a few days, barring a Judgement, and that was the only reason Red felt comfortable enough to leave the two of them alone, anyway.

Kid didn’t want to endanger anyone else, perfectly reasonable response to what happened, but they couldn’t hide away in here forever. Rus needed fresh air and sunshine. He needed his meditation gardens, not the weedy looking herbs Edge grew on the narrow windowsill for his cooking.

That meant Red needed to go over the intel his contacts were sending along. Search for reoccurring names, patterns, anything that’d lead him to the end of this snake so he could chop off the head.

Needed to, yeah, but it’d have to wait. Right now, his head wasn’t exactly in the game. He’d left too much of his mind behind in Refuge, turning that chat over and over, trying to find a chink, a solution that didn’t exist.

Probably better to get settled so he didn’t miss a trick, yeah, that was the ticket. All Red wanted right now was some manufactured forgetfulness and he wanted to get started making it right now.

“welcome back,” Rus called cheerily. He only glanced at Red, pale eye lights filled with warm greeting, before turning back to the cards in his hand with a little frown.

That gave Red a chance to discreetly run a mental inventory of his honey. Rus was looking good today. There was some color back into his bones, his pristine skull glossy with health. His magic was leveling out to its normal slower upward trickle. Hell, at a glance he was damn right perky, and that made it hard not to appreciate how fucking pretty he was. His long robes were discarded in favor of a pair of soft, loose pants and a t-shirt to match, bare feet tucked under his knees and a hint of his clavicles peeking tantalizingly over the neckline, begging for a mouth to give ‘em a taste.

Just seeing Rus like that leached some of the aching tension out of Red’s soul, trading it out for relief.

It was tempting to step up right then, but Red hung back, waiting for them to finish their game. When Rus wasn't giving Judgments, what he was mostly was bored. There was only so much meditating and bonding with the spirits or whatever the shit that anyone could do. Protecting the Judge was the focus of their job, the most important thing, but it wasn’t the only one. The other part of their bit was plain taking care of Rus and that included entertainment.

Sex might be an easy way to knock out two birds with one dick, but it couldn’t be the only thing.

Their living room was lined with shelves filled to the brim with books and blu-rays, video game consoles and board games, anything to help Rus pass the day and hopefully forget that the sunshine his brother nearly died to get for their people couldn’t really be his.

“What were you off doing anyway?” Rus asked absently. His attention was mostly on the game, sockets narrowed, and across from him, Edge only waited patiently, the slightest hint of a smirk curving his mouth. Rus didn’t seem too worried about Red taking a field trip, it did happen from time to time.

His brother was probably less than pleased that Red took off without a word as to where he was going other than a hastily scrawled note of ‘back soon’, but eh, Red could take that medicine when he had to.

There was a split-second choice to be made here, whether to tell Rus the truth of where he’d gone or not. With only a couple words, Red could make sure Rus never wanted to see his brother again…and taint every past memory he clung to in the process. Almost did it anyway; Red was an old hand at cleaning up all kinds of messes, he could handle one more. The only thing that held his tongue was thinking of Rus’s grief, the choking tears streaming down his pretty face, and his memory of his brother would end up just one more thing he’d lost.

Only this time it would be Red doing the taking.

Fuck it, if the Angel wanted Rus to know about it, She could do the dirty work.

“nothing important, darlin’,” Red said smoothly, and that was true enough.

Rus didn’t notice anything amiss, but Edge gave him a narrow, suspicious look. Eh, he’d catch his bro up on things soon enough. Now wasn’t the time. For once, Edge wasn’t buttoned from his clavicles to his toes in his uniform, instead dressed in soft pants and a sweatshirt that was a hair too tight, probably from Rus’s side of the closet. Probably meant they’d spent some cuddle time on the sofa before starting up on the game or at least Red hoped so. He might watch the cameras later. Just to make sure.

His wandering thoughts were coagulating, coming back together in his skull and Red was already wondering what kind of distraction he could come up with to tug their attention from the cards when he heard it. Faintly, the familiar, hollow sound of a constant buzzing against bone.

Well, now, this was getting interesting, now wasn’t it.

“care to fill me in on the rules to this game?” Red drawled. He leaned against the sofa arm and treated himself to a more in-depth perusal of them both. Nothing unusual leapt out at him, not yet.

“it’s pretty simple,” Rus said. His cards were fanned out messily in his slim hands, a disorderly array of suits. “whoever loses a round has to wear a vibrator in the next round. winner gets to put the vibrator wherever they want.”

Huh. Rus sounded a little more disgruntled than that called for. Kid was an ace at counting cards, it was a little surprising he’d even persuaded Edge to play. “sounds fun.”

“i thought so too,” Rus said, shooting Edge a sulky look. “only edge doesn’t even work up a sweat, no matter where i put it. i’ve tried it behind his sternum, his sacrum, pubic arch. i'm about ready to toss it into his eye socket and let it rattle around in his skull for a while, see if that shakes him up.”

Edge laid the queen of spades on top of the card pile and said placidly, “My apologies for my self-control being so boring.”

Boring, huh. Red looked his brother up and down calculatingly. The little details were there if a person knew how to look. Eye lights barely hazed, the slightest hitch to his too-even breathing. He was a little worked up, but Rus wasn't lying, he still looked like an ice cube wouldn't melt in his shorts.

Meanwhile, Rus was pouting unhappily, his pretty smile turned upside down, and that just couldn’t be allowed, now could it. An idea perked up in the back of Red’s mind, ripe with possibilities, and Rus would go for it no question. Whether Edge would was dependent on how happy he wanted to make Rus, which usually fell under ‘a lot’. The odds were good, and Red never shied from a good bet.

Red leaned in and settled a wandering hand on Rus’s knee, sliding lightly up his inner thigh and snagging his attention. "how about we play another kind of game, honey."

Rus immediately looked wary, but Red wasn't offended. Couldn't blame him; Rus'd played Red’s games before, good on him for taking the lesson to heart.

"what game?" Rus asked suspiciously.

"Doesn’t anyone want to know if I want to play a new game?" Edge asked no one in particular. They ignored him.

Red rose up on his toes and laid a soft kiss on Rus’s mouth, lingering a little too long over that sweetness before he reluctantly drew back. “lemme get changed first then we'll talk. you go on ahead and finish that round.”

He strolled off, whistling cheerfully. The day was already looking up.

In their shared bedroom Red stripped out of his uniform, carelessly dropping it to the floor for Edge to bitch over later. A pair of well-worn shorts and a t-shirt was a decent match to the wardrobe choices of two brats out there, and made for easier access and cleanup. Ready Freddy, except for one thing.

Red knelt down and dug out a small box hidden underneath their bed, grabbed a little something that might come in handy right soon. He tucked it into his pocket, shoving it deep enough not to arouse (heh) suspicions.

Edge was picking up the cards when Red came back out, tucking them back into the box. The previously unseen vibrator was sitting innocently on the coffee table as if Red couldn’t see the faint traces of crimson that’d been hastily wiped away.

Red crawled up on the sofa next to Rus and held out an arm, pretended that his soul didn’t give a solid throb as Rus immediately snuggled in against him happily. The kid rolled over on his back, his skull in Red’s lap, looking up at him with bright curiosity in those pale eye lights as he said, “c’mon, red, tell me!”

That pout was back and Red took a moment to lean down and quickly kiss it away, allowing only a brief flicker of their tongues together before he pulled back. He stroked the smooth bone of Rus’s forehead lightly, soothingly, “all right, honey love, here’s the game. you got five minutes to get edge to come, however you can. if you don’t get it done in the allotted time, i get five minutes to make him come. winner gets the prize.”

As he’d guessed, Rus’s eye lights immediately blew wide, briefly tinging golden in an abrupt surge of desire. It faded quick enough, Rus struggling to hold it back, but the cat was out of the bag now, wasn’t it.

Across the way, Edge barely stifled a sharp, startled sound, but if he had an opinion about Red’s little suggestion, he kept it to himself.

The rest of Red’s words seemed to have wormed their way past that first thoughtless rush and Rus was frowning again, “that's not fair. if i lose, he'll already be all worked up for you.”

Red leaned down and gave him a light kiss in reward for figuring that out. “ah, but see, difference is, i don't get to touch him. no bone on bone for me, sweetheart, i promise.”

Mollified, Rus settled back. “what do i get if i win?”

“you get to ask a favor of me, anything at all.”

Poor kid was gonna get whiplash the way he kept flipflopping from interest to disappointment. “i can already do that.”

“yeah, but you don’t.” Red pointed out, “you never do. this one you’d earn fair and square, might make it easier if you’re spending your own dime rather than the inheritance.”

Rus nodded slowly, understanding coupled with intrigue lighting his face, “and if you win?”

“same deal, i get to ask one thing from you. anything i want.” That win or lose Rus was gonna enjoy himself thoroughly was heavily implied.

“anything,” Rus murmured, rolling the word around in his mouth, giving it a good taste, but before he could decide if he liked the flavor, another bargainer stepped up to the table.

“I have a question,” Edge said, coolly. Red glanced at his brother meaningfully, met crimson eye lights that were a match his own. Edge was sitting on the opposite sofa, his arms crossed over his chest. The line of his jaw was tense, teeth gritted together, but that wasn’t distaste or reluctance on his face, not one fucking bit. He waited to see if his bro would beg off or outright refuse. They’d teeter-tottered around into a little touchy feely a long time ago, didn’t matter so long as it helped get Rus off. They'd been ramping it up lately, but this was a horse of a different color, deliberate red on red without a buffer of honeyed gold between them.

He was counting on his brother not to disappoint.

“what’s that, bro?” Red asked.

Edge’s crimson tongue flicked out over his teeth, an almost imperceptible hint at nervousness. "What do I get if neither of you get me to come?"

Oh yeah, that was his bro.

"ah, that’s easy,” Red said lightly, “favor is all yours, little brother. from both of us."

Red looked back down at Rus and he could about see the gears turning in his mind. He was a smart kid, even smarter when you took into account all the Judges in creation playing house in the back of his mind. He was trying to work out what kind of monkey's paw bullshit Red wove into the bargain, but looked like he wasn't finding anything cause all he said was, decisively, "deal.”

“Deal,” Edge agreed softly. He stood and turned on his heel, walking out. Came back only a minute later with a couple towels over one arm, fucking neat freak. He spread them out on the sofa then shed his clothes, folding each piece neatly as he stripped it off. Edge wasn’t anywhere near as pretty as Rus, his bones were thicker with none of the delicacy that was laced into their lover’s, pocked with scars from the years before he was in the guard and the training alike. Strong bone that could take a beating and had, bearing the marks of a survivor and warm pride flowed over Red like syrup, like the honey he so often named Rus.

Edge’s joints were already lit with mana, either from the earlier vibrator or the recent chat, and a cloud of it filled his pelvic cradle, a thunderstorm of brimming desire. He settled back on the sofa, long legs stretched out, and said, mockingly sweet, “Ready when you are.”

A hasty search found lube where it was thoughtful stowed under one of the cushions and Rus drizzled it over his slim hands, rubbing them together until the slender bones were glossy and slick. “summon your cock first, give me something to work with.”

Edge tutted in disappointment, shaking his head, “Asking for a concession already?”

“everyone knows you don’t start a game without setting up the pieces first,” Rus countered, waggling his slippery fingers teasingly.

“he’s got you there, bro,” Red chuckled, amusement mingled with a peculiar sort of relief. All the nastiness of the day was flowing away, dirty water down the drain, simply by being around these two sassy shits. “don’t you think he deserves a little head start?”

Nice to see that Red wasn’t the only one who weakened under a pair of wide, pleading eye lights. Edge softened like sweet butter left on the stovetop. The swirl of his magic solidified, his cock formed between his femurs, already heavy and hard, a formidable piece of equipment that Edge usually put to good use. Rus reached out with dripping hands, only waiting when Red called out.

“hold up.” Red pulled out his phone, setting the timer, “okay, rus…go!”

Red settled back into the throw pillows to watch the show, one hand slithering down the front of his shorts, hard phalanges idle against his pubic crest where his magic was settling humidly. Wasn’t any part of the bet against him coming and Red was all ready to hit the concession stand.

Rus didn’t waste any time, both hands already curled around Edge’s shaft, spreading the slippery lube until the scarlet ectoflesh was glistening wetly. The rhythmic sound was wickedly obscene, startlingly loud over Rus’s satisfied hum.

There was no reaction at all from Edge, his eye lights barely flickered as Rus stroked him. Even when Rus frowned determinedly, kneeling between Edge’s spread legs, tongue already eagerly extended. He lapped softly at the little jewel of scarlet fluid beading at the head of Edge’s cock before sucking the length of it down with a messy slurp.

“that’s it. little brother,” Red called, smirking as Edge only hissed out a breath, keeping stubbornly still, “don’t make it too easy for him.”

It was a helluva show, to put it mildly, worth it even if by some random chance Red lost the game. Rus was pulling out all the stops, using every dirty, wicked trick he’d been taught between them about giving head and a couple made up on the spot. The long, flexible length of his tongue wrapped around the shaft, a thumb and forefinger surrounding the base, following the tight rhythm of Rus’s head. Mouth sloppy wet, golden spit sliding down his chin and wetting his hand as Rus sucked Edge in deep, his formed throat bobbing as he swallowed, formed muscles massaging the hard length. His free hand wandered wherever it could reach, seeking out places he knew were sensitive. Rus had mapped out their bodies with those shy, nimble fingers of his too many times to count, committing their every twitch to memory, and now he was tweaking cartilage, fondling up the length of Edge’s spine, teasing at his floating ribs.

All the little details put together a fine picture; Rus’s ass in the air, his clothed pelvis wriggling enticingly as he worked. Muffled whimpers were spilling into the air from him around the cock filling his mouth, garbled pleading, and Edge sure as fuck wasn’t unaffected now.

Sweat decorated his skull like glittery sequins as Edge breathed hard through his nasal cavity, his tongue caught between his jagged teeth hard enough that a thin rill of crimson was spilling down his chin. His knees jerked slightly with each bob of Rus’s head, bones clattering softly. A raw groan escaped Edge, hinting at desperation at the exact moment the timer buzzed, shifting to a pained gasp as Rus pulled off with slow deliberation, giving the head a last teasing suck.

Rus sighed in mock disappointment, wiping at his mouth fruitlessly with the back of his hand and only succeeding in smearing the mingled gold and crimson fluids. “damn it, guess i lost.”

“guess you did,” Red slid down to the floor with less grace than he would’ve liked, knees wobbly and his own arousal settled heavily into his pelvis. “have a seat, honey, watch the master at work.”

Mischief flittered over Rus’s face, far too quick for anything but a warning. He caught hold of the front of Red’s shirt and yanked him in, forcing his sex-tainted tongue down Red’s throat. The taste was one he knew all too well, honey sweetness mellowed with spice, rich and addictive.

A last delicate swipe of his tongue and Rus sashayed away, snagging one of the pillows to curl around while he settled in for his turn to watch.

Red licked the back of his teeth, catching the last of that tang before it faded completely. Yeah, Rus was gonna pay for that.

Or maybe Red needed to thank him, because Edge was watching them hotly with a riveted gaze, a thread of crimson fluid leaking from the tip of his cock to stain the towel.

He didn’t quite flinch as Red crawled up on the cushions, keeping a careful distance from his brother’s bare bones. There was a certain fraught quality to Edge’s expression, a feral wildness like he might bolt away.

“close your sockets, bro,” Red told him, gently. Which mean of course that Edge did no such thing, contrary bastard.

“Why?” Edge said suspiciously. His gaze flicked down Red’s body helplessly to where his dick was pushing out the front of his shorts, then away, then back to Red’s face, the color blooming his cheekbones lovelier than any flower in Refuge.

Thoughts like that weren’t gonna help Red win the game and he shoved it aside, adding it to his growing collection of ‘ain’t thinking about it’.

“because i fucking told you to,” Red retorted, “that’s why. now play the game right.”

“I don’t recall following orders being in the rules,” Edge grumbled, but this time he did as he was told.

Red waited until he was sure those sockets were closed tight, not the faintest hint of crimson showing. Then he reached into his pocket for his special toy surprise.

This particular prize wasn't from their normal toybox since Rus didn't have a lot of interest in his cock. That might be changing, he'd give it a thought some other time. The toy was made of a gelatinous material was only slightly softer than ectoflesh, formed into a hollow sheath that was lined with small bumps and curving grooves designed stimulate, drag out every drop of pleasure possible, willingly or otherwise.

The expected cries of cheating didn’t come and Red flicked a glance at Rus to find him watching with wide, rapturous sockets, face flushed golden bright. One arm was wrapped so tightly around the pillow the fabric threatened to burst and his other hand pressed between his legs overtop his pants, fingers digging in helplessly as if he could stop his cunt from forming by sheer, physical will.

The audience was waiting, the timer was set. Time to get this game started. Red scooped up the depleted bottle of lube and squirted a dollop into the sheath and with one motion, deftly slid it down on his brother’s dick.

The reaction was gratifying. Edge’s hips lurched up wildly, his sockets flying open, hands curled into claws that very nearly latched onto Red’s skull before they abruptly diverted and clenched into the sofa cushions.

"You said no touching!" Edge hissed, crimson eye lights flashing as he trembled with outrage. His sharpened fingertips dug into the cushions, tearing through the fabric down to the memory foam.

“i ain't touching you a bit, baby brother,” Red crooned, and tightened his fist around the sheath, giving it a quick, vigorous stroke. Those bumps had to be digging in, massaging their way up and down with each rub.

Edge gasped wetly, squeezing his sockets shut, "Don't call me that!"

The other sofa creaked and Red slanted a glance at Rus who was halfway to his feet, reaching out weakly and conflicting emotions tangled across his face. “red, stop," Rus said, trembling but firm. "not if he doesn't want it."

Red only chuckled darkly, dragging his clenched fist down achingly slow, then up abruptly again, "oh, don’t you worry, honey, he wants it. don't you?"

Edge said nothing, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he struggled to keep his pelvis still while Red jerked him off through the thin barrier of the sheath. Looked like the trap might need a little more bait.

Red leaned in closer, careful not to so much as graze his brother’s strong, scarred bones, and whispered, low and harsh, "you remember the first time you fucked him? the way he was spread out under you, begging you to take him?”

This time his brother’s breath creaked out like the hinge of an old door as Red kept it up, murmuring breathily close to his auditory canal, “remember pushing your cock into that pretty virgin pussy? how it was already dripping with my come, how tight he was around your cock? kinda like this, yeah, remember him cryin' cause he needed it so much? how scared he was, showing us his soul? sweet thing all dripping wet, he needed it so bad, the mess he made, oh, that honey magic and silver, practically squirting over himself the second you touched his clit, remember that? you remember how he looked when he came?"

He kept up the relentless pace with every low word, letting the memory warm him. There was a certain charm to clumsy eagerness, inexperienced hands searching unknowingly for all the places that felt best. Not that Red missed it exactly, but he sure didn’t mind bringing that memory out to play with from time to time.

Edge was struggling, heaving, his eye lights narrowed to pinpricks as he stared blindly up at the ceiling.

Almost there, almost, and Red leaned in close enough for Edge to feel the heat of his breath, a bare whisper too low for Rus to possibly hear him, "member the first time he said he loved us?"

That did the trick. Edge let out a wretched sound like a sob, bones rattling as he came, filling the sheath to overflowing with his seed. Red could feel the surging heat of it through the thin plastic, smelled the rich spice even as the blare of the alarm came from his phone.

Game, set, match.

Red pulled off, tossing the dripping sheath to the coffee table to join the vibrator already there. Edge only lay weakly in his defeat, pelvis smeared with come, the rest of his bones dabbled with sweat. Red left him there to wallow in his filth, prowling over to Rus.

Who scrabbled back into the corner of the sofa, his sockets so wide it looked like his eye lights were gonna pop loose and fizzle out on the carpet. He fumbled for the phone gracelessly, somehow managing to turn off the warbling timer without dropping it on the floor even as Red raked a look over him. Taking in the heated glow of his joints, the honey-tint to his eye lights, the wet patch seeping through his pants, leaving a darkened stain that clung visibly to his pussy lips.

Yeah, Red had his number now. Looked like their honey had a lil' voyeurism kink going on. That was a new toy Red was looking forward to playing with, fuck yes. But for now, he had a problem of his own going on in his pants and Rus’s magic was crackling hotly in the air, searing lightning searching for the ground

"lay back, sugar," Red slipped off his shorts, briefly fisting his own cock, groaning at the feel of his own hard fingers.

Rus did it instantly, squirming as he worked his pants down his legs and kicked them off even as he asked doubtfully, "this is what you want as a favor?"

"nope, this is mine by right.” Red jerked Rus down until his pelvis was at the edge of the sofa, long legs dangling to the floor. He shuffled forward, lining his cock up with Rus’s eagerly clenching entrance, smearing his cock with golden wetness. “i'll let you know about the favor."

Then he shoved into that wet pussy, groaning at the soaking, tight heat around him as Rus’s wail filled the room.

So fucking gorgeous, watching Rus whimper and flail as Red fucked him. Pretty as Rus was on his knees, Red liked him better on his back. Liked watching that lovely face scrunch up every time Red fucked into him, honeyed tears welling up, streaming down the rounded curves of his cheekbones as that sassy mouth dropped open and his tongue curled behind his teeth.

In the down under, he got to watch his dick moving in the soft, golden magic that filled Rus's pelvis. His cunt was a slippery, plush delight, that first thrust inside always bordered on too tight until his walls loosened up a little, Rus whimpering out little cries as Red forced his cock in, past the rippling clench to fill him up.

And fuck him for how hot that was. Red knew Rus could take a fist all the way up to the elbow into his pussy, a cock wasn't no big thing, (heh), but the feel of it, fuck, like taking his virginity all over again. Red braced his heels against the coffee table and pumped harder, watched the length of his shaft slide in, pussy lips spreading wide around it, parting to give him a nice look at Rus's swollen clit. Red reached down to trace around it teasingly with a careful, sharp-tipped finger and Rus let out a frantic whine.

"you want somethin’, sweetheart?" Red panted out.

"i want to come!" Sweet desperation poured from him, fuck, talk about no stamina. Then again, Rus was like a little energizer bunny of orgasms, he could keep going and going, popping off one after another. Wasn’t no reason to hold him back now.

One hard drag of Red’s thumb over his clit and Rus was arching, his legs going tight around Red’s hips, holding him in deep as he convulsed. A fresh rush of wetness flooding his pussy, smoothing out the ride.

Rus sagged back against the cushions, hiccoughing soft little cries as Red kept it up. His own orgasm was swelling in him, tantalizingly close. Next to him, the sofa suddenly dipped with added weight and maybe Red couldn’t lean up high enough to give Rus’s pleading mouth a kiss, but that was fine, cause Edge was there to do it for him, his brother’s crimson tongue moving sinuously against Rus's golden one, fuck, yeah.

"come on down here, bro,” Red growled, flicking his thumb over Rus’s swollen clit again, “got something better for you to work with."

His brother shifted downward instantly, tilting his head in to lick at that sensitive nub. His crimson tongue was long, prehensile, dipping in between Rus’s femurs. Not his normal one, either, this one forked at the tip, all the better to work against Rus's clit, circling it from both sides, yeah, his fucking clever brother. Sometimes it wandered too low, one of the tips occasionally grazed against Red's cock, slyly pushing into Rus’s cunt and catching Red off-guard with a brief firework of sensation.

Red could taste his own sweat, sharp and faintly bitter, tried not to jerk as that tongue lashed against him again. He didn’t want Edge the same way he did Rus, he didn’t, but oh, you kid—

Fuck it, he couldn’t hold out anymore.

Red let go with a groan, pulling out to come in hot streaks over Rus's pelvis, and, oh, yeah, his bro's face. Edge flinched, closing his sockets and didn't stop, licking Rus through another orgasm even as a glossy spurt of come striped across his tongue, the fluid a shade of crimson darker than the ectoflesh.

With a deeply satisfied sigh, Red shuffled over enough to flop on the sofa even as Rus trembled and writhed through his shuddering ecstasy. He watched through narrowed sockets as Edge sat up, blinking too fast and his tremulous expression was loaded with conflicting signals. Almost, Red reached out, his sense still blurrily pleased, struck with the idea of rubbing his come in, smearing it across his brother’s scarred bones, marking him—

He reeled back, snorting aloud at his own stupidity. Yeah, yeah, his brother and no one else’s. He’d lived that schtick his whole life, no reason to complicate it now.

Looking at it sideways, the mess of his come was dripping down Edge’s skull in a way that made Red think hilariously of strawberry syrup on cheesecake.

Well, it could be a sweet treat for someone to eat, now couldn’t it.

"whoopsie, looks like i messed him up," Red drawled, elbowing Rus lightly. "you gonna clean him up, sugar skull?"

Rus stirred at the pet name, sockets fluttering open, then going wide as he took in the sights. He swallowed audibly, husking out, "yeah i can…i can do that if…if you want?"

Like Edge was even capable of turning that down. A short, sharp nod and Edge sat obediently still, let Rus lave at his face, greedily licking up the spatters while Red watched the crimson smearing the deeper gold of his tongue avidly. The sudden flood of fresh arousal was startling, almost unwelcome.

Almost.

The way he figured it, Edge would only stand that for so long before he hauled them all off to their massive shower. The three of them standing together beneath the generous spray, the water pouring down on them about two degrees lower than the temperature of lava, exactly how Rus liked it. The probability of blowjobs or fucking was high and so was the chance of a nap afterword, Rus snuggled up against him blissfully well-fucked, his brother on the other side. A preciously rare gift from the Angel to make up for the slagging shithole of Red’s life before.

He'd guarantee that Rus would mumble out a sleepy ‘I love you’ for them both before drifting off and right about then, Red wanted that more than anything in the fucking world. Those three words, Rus, and Edge.

His, all his in a way no one’d ever been his entire life. Not even Sans.

Red didn’t have a fucking clue what game they were playing anymore. Didn’t matter, either. All he knew was that the fates were sore losers and that he didn’t give a shit.

He was playing to win.

-fin

Next Chapter

[ask-de-writer]

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 5 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

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SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 5 of 83

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

copyright 2020

written 2007

All rights reserved.

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users  of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may  reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story?  Read from the beginning.  PART 1 is here

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Chapter 2: Maps

Climbing down the companion-ladder, into the lowest hold, Captain Mord inspected the live cargo vats.  They were so big and heavy that they had required a complete change of the ship’s ballast system.  Major changes in a ship were always a risk, and he was proud of his crew for taking this one.  The Longin now handled better than ever before.  It had paid for itself many times over.  He remembered how it had been and could still see, in his mind’s eye, the single, much smaller vat that had originally held the Longin’s mussel beds for weaving and rope fibers.  It had been used to bring their first cargo of live crabs to the Gathering.  That bed was still there, much enlarged, to the delight Master Cirde, the weaver, and Mistress Daeron, of the rope walk.

Now, one full half of the lowest hold space was devoted to live cargo, mostly crabs and lobsters.  The vats could be sealed to prevent slopping in bad weather, but the lids were normally off to allow for the continual inspection and feeding that living crabs needed.  A hand-crank powered bucket line brought fresh sea water up the side of the ship , where an adjustable sluice brought it to the desired vat. There was even a draining system designed to ensure that the vats did not lose too much water during changes.  The changed water went into the bilges where a second bucket line carried it up and discharged it over the side.

Silor’s voice could be heard through the hatches, “Crabs coming down!” The call was followed shortly by a loaded holding net, hanging from the crane line.  The deck-hand assigned to the cargo hold snagged the crane line deftly with a boat-hook and pulled it to a traveling crane, hung from the overhead.  He attached the net of crabs to the traveler and released the crane line, to which he fastened an empty holding net.

“Lift away!” he called up.  The holding net disappeared up through the hatches.  The deck-hand pushed the crabs down to the holding vat that he was loading and emptied them into it.  A few just did not want to release the net and had to be encouraged to let go with the boat hook.  From the holding vat the crabs were picked out, sorted, and their claws tied shut by older children, experienced in this tricky work.  The processed crabs were given to the deck hand who took them to the appropriate cargo vats.

Strolling over to the holding vat, the Captain looked in at the crabs.

“Good sized, aren’t they?” he asked one of the children who was tying claws shut to keep the crabs from hurting each other during their time on the ship.

“Yessir,” the child said, concentrating on not getting pinched.

Satisfied that all was well, the Captain went back up the companion-ladder. Shortly, one of the cooks came down and began selecting several hundred crabs.  They went back up by crane.

That night at dinner, the serving crew (serving was a rotating duty that everybody, including the Captain, got) brought in the usual steamed fish-cakes and seaweed salad, and water to drink.

Instead of sitting they remained standing, leaning casually against the ribs of the ship, next to the hull.  The ribs arched over from the hull and became the deck beams above them.  The servers were obviously waiting for something.  They were grinning.

Clard, Master of the Ship’s Drums, and formal announcer got up.  “Captain Mord Halyn has an announcement!”

That cut the usual dinnertime hubbub to nothing.  Smiling jovially, the Captain said, “It has been an interesting and productive day. Kurin has showed us something completely new.  We have found and proved a new crabbing area.  I know that most of you are curious about today’s demonstration.  The Longin’s Craft Masters have conferred and decided that it is not a Craft.”

Here Silor grinned triumphantly.

The Captain went on, “If it were a Craft, it would have to be registered with the fleet Council, and the basics of it shared to all ships of the fleet.  As a skill, it is ours alone, and that is what we propose.”

Silor looked resentful, and then even more so as Master Juris held up two fingers, pointed to his fish-cakes, and made a come-hither gesture. With ill grace, he handed them over.  As the Captain continued, Master Juris divided the two cakes with his fellow Masters.

“To celebrate all of this, the cooks have steamed up some of those crabs! Everybody gets a whole one!  Since Kurin found the place and gave us the new skill, she gets one for each thing.”  He paused and managed to look as if he’d just thought of something.  “I’m not sure that it’s at all fair,” he paused again and exclaimed, “She gets more than me!”  Then he grinned to show that he was kidding and sat to laughter.  The servers went into the galley, came back with laden trays to distribute.  Everybody started cheerfully cracking their crabs.

Silor glared darkly at Kurin who was tucking into her dinner with busy chopsticks at the journeyman’s table.  If she hadn’t been showing off, I’d have all of my fish-cakes.

The Captain waited until everyone was near done to make a further announcement, “The success of this experiment has been enough to convince me of the reality of Kurin’s gift.  What I propose, for the approval of the ship’s crew, is this.  We should leave off our current fishing at once.  We ought to take the time to make such charts as this,” he held up the chart that Kurin had made of the deep reef below them, “for all of our waters.  Such charts could greatly improve all of our fishing.  We have sufficient stores for the project.  This Ship’s Business is open for discussion.”

The Longin had three fairly widely separated patches of ‘home waters’ that she worked.  One, the richest, was a maze of reefs in the tropics, known as the Ship Killer.  In times past, it had earned its name.

The others were in the north temperate zone, over two weeks of sailing from the tropic.  One was in the Naral Sea and the other in the Cliftos Reach, separated by three days of fair weather sailing.

Everybody began discussing the proposal with their neighbors.  There was much excited talk and hand waving.  Cliques of crew-folk began to form. One group, mostly deck-hands, formed around Silor.  They were opposed to the whole notion.  It meant many course changes and much raising and lowering of sail.  In short, a great deal of extra work for them.

Silor paced as he formulated his opposition.  “Captain, Masters and crew, we deck-hands think that this notion is foolishness.  Kurin can draw her pictures as we work our waters, as she did for this one.  We can find no harm in letting the child do that.  Diverting the whole ship because she was lucky once is madness.  We are of the opinion that she simply  guessed that this shallows was here because of the turn that the Naral Current takes.  Anyone who studied the current could have thought of that.  Should we lose valuable fishing time to pamper the white-haired brat?  She has already gotten too much of this ship’s time.”

Cirde, Master Weaver responded, “As you say, Kurin is a child, now.  That will only be until the Master’s Council approves her journeyman’s status at the next Gathering.  However, she is welcome in the weaving shop, though she is not my apprentice.  She listens well and works hard.  I can never think of a time that she showed me a finished work that she could not repeat.  That is how we recovered the secret of Longin Lace after Cat left us.  She has just showed us a new finished work.

“I have never heard her brag.  I believe that she can repeat this charting, to our benefit.  But this is based solely on my experience with her.

“This is a matter of navigation.  Let us defer to those who are skilled in the art.  They have said that her talent is remarkable.  I believe them.”

Clard, Master of the ship’s tocsin and hailing drums, added, “I second that.  Anyone who thinks that what Kurin shows is only luck has their eyes closed and has left their wits on dry land.

“My experience of her is like Master Cirde’s.  I wish that she were my apprentice.  She has learned hailing drum talk faster than anybody in my experience.  She knows every tocsin beat as well, and has been allowed to stand watch.  In spite of this, I have never heard her brag, either.  What she says she can do, she can do.  Every Craft Master here,” he gestured expansively, “knows her worth.

“As with Master Cirde, I will trust those who know navigation.  Remember this, as well, she predicted twenty fathoms depth.  The sounding was twenty one.  All of her chart that has been checked is as good. These charts could mean profit in both the short,” he waved a crab leg, “and long term.”

Master Juris stuck an oar in to hit Silor publicly once again.  In a sarcastic voice he said, “Kurin makes boats instead of breaking them.  I trust her.  Let us vote.  I am in favor.”

Captain Mord called the vote, which went to the charting expedition.  Only a seething Silor and his adherents voted against.

The Longin began the first of the many carefully spaced passes back and forth over the first of her three fishing waters.  Kurin’s mapping table was placed near to the stern, just out of the tiller-walk. This was an arc of deck, specially roughened to give good footing to the steersman.  The table itself was a giant tallow-slate with several different styli to make an assortment of different kinds of marks.

As often as he could spare the time, Captain Mord would look on at the growing rough chart.  When he took sightings, he told Kurin the latitude and longitude, so that the information could be used to give the chart scale.  It was an odd collection of lines at the moment. With the Captain looking over her shoulder, she nodded to herself, made a counting type bobbing motion with her stylus hand and reached for the table.  She quickly drew several lines with different styli.

“Would it distract you to ask what you are doing?” the Captain’s mellow voice came over her shoulder.

Without looking up, she replied, “No, Sir.  It would probably help me to keep track of things.”

“Good. I would like to understand how this is done.”  He gestured to the others that he had gathered to sit quietly.  They did.

After a few moments of collecting her thoughts, she began, “Around here, the main deep wave comes from that direction.”  She pointed.  “It has a length of twenty pulse beats, and it has a very slight rise and fall, which means pretty deep water over there, say two hundred fathoms, at a guess.  When I do the area functions I will know for sure.”  Then she pointed off to the starboard bow.  “From over that way I feel another wave, crossing the main wave.  It is short and high.  It has been getting shorter as we sail along this course. It is down to 9 pulses long and it is over three times as high. There is a high spot in the bottom over there that causes the main wave to pile up and bend as it goes around it.  That is what makes the high short wave.  The intersection of these waves is subject to a geometric analysis that will yield contour lines.  I drew that in like so … .” she trailed off as she realized that more than just the Captain’s shadow had fallen on the charting table.

She turned to discover ten people, some of them older children, a few of the Craft Masters and the ship’s off duty-officers.

Captain Mord said, without apology, “You said that you could teach people. I have drawn together your first class.  I have set up another for two Wohans hence.  That may not be enough time for the first class, but perhaps we can work around that.  This knowledge is too important to the ship not spread it so that it cannot be lost or forgotten.”

Kurin looked at him in surprise.  How could it be that important?  I’m just a kid.  I expected to improve our crabbing a bit, that’s all. Me, teach the Captain and Masters?  I wish Cat were here, or my dad.  They’d know how to do it.  The emptiness within her where being loved and safe had been, threatened to engulf her.  I expect the Captain’s right though, he usually is.  If I have people around me close, I won’t be so alone.  Aloud, she said, “Very well, Captain.  Students must be a able to read, write and figure.  Time will tell if they can learn to do the navigation and charting.”  She turned to the class.  “You will all need tallow-slates and styli.  You will also need a pair of dividers and a straight edge.”  She paused, looking absent for a moment, and marked her chart.

“Did anyone feel the change in the waves, just then?” she asked.

It was one of the younger of the children, a cabin boy named Bron who held up a hand.  “It was feeling kind of irregular, like you said, there was two different waves sort of bumping across each other.  Now it feels smoother, like  maybe one of them has gone away?” he questioned cautiously.

“Yes,” said Kurin, “it has.  We have passed the high place in the bottom and the wave change it made.  I’ve put that on the chart like so . ���”

The arduous task of covering every mile of the Longin’s home fishing waters, east to west, then north to south, produced a chart like none ever seen before in the Naral fleet.  It showed the contours and depth of the bottom, the location and direction of all of the permanent currents, and where the tidal currents flowed, with a table to calculate their speed and direction by the phases of the moons and the elevation of the sun.  It also showed the shape, direction and patterns made by the long, deep waves.

The results surprised everybody.  There were more shallows than anybody had dreamed, and there was a monstrously deep chasm that cut across the bottom, dividing sea-floor into unequal halves.  Its depth was beyond what Kurin could detect.

After a week of charting, they moved on to the next of their three home waters, further south.  This one proved to be a mostly level plain, varying in depth but averaging only a few hundred feet below the keel, sloping up to the east, where there were high humps, rising to within seventy or eighty feet below the surface.

Nothing betrayed the presence of the underwater hills except a permanent seaweed mat that was anchored to them.  The paddle ducks in their coop up forward squawked and cackled at their wild cousins nesting on the mat.

The Ship Killer reefs of the Longin’s tropic home waters proved trickier.  The reefs stopped most of the long waves that Kurin’s ability relied on.  She mapped what she could, but it was less than a third of what was needed.  She found a compromise.

TO BE CONTINUED

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[three-houses-text-files]

byleth/claude

c-s support + paired ending + night of the ball

c

Claude: Hey, Teach. I see you're as stony-faced as usual. C: Hmm. I can't tell if you're feeling resigned or if you're just lost in thought. Or maybe you simply don't care about anything that's going on. C: Oh... Sorry. I really didn't mean to be rude. I just find you fascinating. C: Actually, there's something I'd like to talk to you about. Can you spare some time?

>Sure.

C: That's just the sort of attitude I'd expect from a new teacher!

>I'm busy.

C: Is that right? Maybe this is news to you, but teachers are supposed to display an active interest in the well-being of their students. Students...like me.

C: Speaking of, before you came here, you were a mercenary, right? Always getting your hands dirty on the battlefield and whatnot? C: It's a bit unusual that you suddenly decided to become a teacher one day. C: In any case, I've been meaning to ask. Did your father teach you how to fight?

>Yes, he did.

C: I figured. Your father used to lead the knights, didn't he? And I hear he was a legendary mercenary as well.

>No, he didn't.

C: Is that so? Well, I'm sure you grew up watching his fighting style, even if he didn't teach you directly.

C: It must have been hard on your mother when you followed in your father's footsteps and became a mercenary too.

>I never knew my mother.

C: I see. I suppose you grew up moving from battlefield to battlefield with your father then. C: You know, for someone who's right around the same age as me, you certainly have an unusual amount of composure. C: I guess it's only natural that you'd be different from young nobles who grew up in the lap of luxury.

>You don't seem like a noble either.

C: Ha! Well, even so, I am heir to House Riegan, the leading family of the Alliance. C: But I didn't exactly grow up in luxury like most people of noble blood. C: Hey, maybe that's why you and I get along so well. C: Folks like us should stick together. As house leader, I'll do all I can to help you out. We can start by making time for more little chats like this.

——————————————————————————————

b (i)

C: Hey, Teach! Hold on a minute, OK? I'm gonna have this cleared up in no time.

>What are you doing?

C: I came across a fascinating book about poisons, and so I wanted to try mixing one up myself.

>Need some help?

C: Nah, that's OK. I'll be finished soon. I'm just in the middle of mixing up a new poison.

C: Aaand...done! C: What do you think of that, Teach? A colorless, odorless poison! Say...care to test it out for me?

>Sure.

C: Whoa, really?! Heh, actually, I was just kidding. If you drink this, in two days' time you'll have terrible, um...let's call it stomach trouble.

>What does it do?

C: In two days' time you'll have a terrible case of...let's call it stomach trouble. It's a peaceful poison, so you'll live, but you'll certainly be inconvenienced.

C: I hear your silent question, Teach. Why the delay? That's so it can be used even if you don't have access to the target when you need the poison to take effect. C: Um, naturally, I have no immediate plans for this stuff! I suppose I just felt like broadening the ol' horizons a bit. C: When devising schemes, it's best to have as many options at your disposal as possible. Expanding those options is kind of a hobby for me.

>Why such a dangerous hobby?

C: Well, I grew up in an environment where it was necessary to think that way. C: It's like I told you before, I wasn't born into a life of luxury. C: Ever since I was a child, I've always been seen as...different from those around me. An outsider of sorts. C: I've been resented and hated. There have even been attempts on my life. I don't believe I've earned such treatment, but that's how it goes for people like me.

>I don't think of you as an outsider.

C: Thanks, Teach. You know, in many ways I'm just a normal person like everyone else. But in the right environment, anyone could be seen as an outsider. C: It can become...overwhelming. That's why I kept running. Kept fighting. C: As a kid I spent a lot of time licking my wounds and coming up with schemes, trying to keep my nose out of trouble while plotting against my enemies. C: My parents always told me I wouldn't grow stronger if I didn't learn to fight my own battles. C: And so, in the end, I did. And I grew up to be as independent and self-reliant as my parents always wished for me to be. Lucky me, right?

>You've been through a lot.

>You grew up well.

C: If anyone knows what I'm talking about, it must be you. Eh, Teach? I get the feeling you know what it's like to be an outsider. C: The moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you weren't like everyone else. People don't care for folks like that... You'd do well to watch your back. C: On the bright side, that's also part of the reason that I find you so interesting.

——————————————————————————————

b (ii)

C: Hey, Teach. Do you believe in gods? C: I don't necessarily mean the goddess of the Seiros religion. Just...gods in general. C: Do you believe that incredible beings who control the fates of all really exist?

>I do.

C: Huh. That's not the answer I was expecting. Though, honestly, I've recently become a bit of a believer myself.

>I do not.

C: Yeah, I didn't think so. I never used to believe in that sort of thing either.

C: I've always hated the idea of praying to a god. After all, you can only really rely on yourself. C: I still believe that. You can't win a war by leaving your fate in the hands of a god. C: Only tangible facts can really decide a war. Which side has the most troops, the best tactics, the better organization and planning. C: Of course, miracles can happen. And by that, I mean things that are completely outside of your control. C: Things that only seem to add up if you believe in the concept of fate... C: Things like...well, like meeting you, for example.

>What do you mean?

C: You just seem sort of...impossible. I think everyone would agree with that. C: You can wield the Sword of the Creator, you're a tactical genius, and you have this strange ability to earn the trust of anyone you cross paths with. C: Before I met you, I never imagined that it was possible for someone like you to exist. C: And yet, now that I know you, your presence in my life has quickly become invaluable. C: In fact, it's hard to imagine making my dreams come true without your help. C: Because of that, I can't believe for a second that our meeting was just a coincidence. That means it must have been fate. C: Maybe it was a miracle. Or maybe some god empathized with me and my dreams.

>Some god?

C: Again, I don't mean the goddess of Fódlan. Though... I suppose it may be hard for you to grasp what I'm talking about. C: People all over the world have different ideas about who or what the gods are, right? Even in distant lands across the ocean or over the mountains... C: They have gods who see the world as a whole, who don't care about Fódlan's borders... C: Who don't meddle in our affairs. Who don't grant life or take it away. C: And maybe, sometimes, they'll make a miracle happen. A god like that... That's the sort of god I think I could believe in.

>I don't understand.

C: Well, it doesn't really matter. Maybe gods like that only exist in my own head.

>I think I understand.

C: Careful, Teach! You'll anger the followers of Seiros if you say things like that.

C: I'm just speaking my mind, that's all. I think people should be free to believe in whatever gods they want. C: If a person believes in a god and that god becomes a support system for them, that's a good thing. That's what a god should be. C: Anyway... Maybe I've overstepped a bit.

>It doesn't matter.

C: I knew you'd understand.

>You have.

C: Sheesh, no need to take offense! I just thought you might understand how I feel.

C: In any case, let's keep this conversation between the two of us, yeah?

——————————————————————————————

a

C: Oh, hey there. What are you doing up at this hour?

>I couldn't sleep.

Is that right? I guess the more you have to think about, the harder it is to fall asleep.

>I could ask you the same question.

C: My brain's just...busy. Thoughts keep going around and around in there, and meanwhile my eyes are wide open.

C: At times like this, I like to gaze up at the stars to clear my head. I've been that way since I was a kid. C: Looking up at the big, starry sky makes my dreams feel small...which makes it feel like I can actually make them come true. C: I didn't believe in gods when I was a kid. Maybe that's because the night sky took their place for me. C: Hey, Teach... Will you talk with me a while? C: I bet you've figured this out, but I wasn't born in Fódlan. C: Where I come from, the people of Fódlan are looked down on as cowards. C: Technically, that cowardice runs in my veins. On my mother's side, anyway. C: That's why the people who were around me when I was growing up thought of me as an outsider. C: But I don't believe the people of Fódlan are cowards. That kind of perspective is just based on ignorance. C: The person from Fódlan who I know best is my mother. C: She fell in love with a man from the wrong side of the border and had the guts to leave home to pursue that love. C: I always threw that in the faces of anyone who tried to make a fool of me. My mother is proof the people of Fódlan aren't all cowards. C: Just saying that doesn't achieve anything, though. I need to destroy the prejudices that have taken root in my homeland. C: That's why I came here, to see Fódlan with my own eyes. I thought I might be able to find a new perspective that could help me change things. C: And what did I find? That the people here view anyone who's an outsider as a beast of sorts. C: I was shocked. Even though our cultures and beliefs are completely different, our two lands have that much in common. C: That's when I realized the only way to change things is to bring the whole world together and start anew. C: That's the dream I've been working toward since I first entered the Officers Academy five years ago. C: To unify the Alliance, and then all of Fódlan, and to bring a new set of values to this new land of mine... C: After that, I'd expand that vision to the rest of the world. Break down the walls and let a new perspective come rushing in! Start all over! C: Do you think that's just a crazy pipe dream? Or a brilliant ambition?

>Can you make that pipe dream come true?

>Can you rise to the challenge of that ambition?

C: Not too long ago, I would have said that it was too much for me to accomplish on my own. C: But that's not how I feel anymore. And that's because I have you on my side now. C: Lately, I've spent a lot of time thinking about how I wouldn't have made it this far without you. C: You and me, Teach. We can go anywhere. Do anything. C: I hope that you always walk in step with me... C: At least until the day comes when we can look out at the peaceful world we've built. Together.

——————————————————————————————

s

C: Sorry for calling you out here like this. I wanted to talk, just the two of us. C: First of all, I wanted to say thank you for all your hard work. It seems like our long struggle may finally be coming to an end.

>Do you think it's really the end?

C: The way forward will certainly be rough. Right now, Fódlan is like a newborn. Frail and easily upset. C: If we don't create a new ruling system soon, the Empire and Kingdom will descend into chaos. C: The coronation ceremony is the first step. Only then will Fódlan truly be a single, united land. C: I'm sorry that I won't be by your side at such an important event, but I'm certain you'll do great.

>You won't be there?!

C: I must return to my homeland. As for ruling this new, unified land... Well, I'll leave that to you.

>...

C: The Fódlan blood that flows in my veins... I've made use of it as best I could. C: Now I've got to use my other bloodline to change my homeland for the better. C: I have royal connections there too, insignificant as they may be. It's time for me to struggle all over again and see what good I can do. C: If I don't change things in both Fódlan and the lands beyond, I'll never set eyes on the kind of world I've dreamed of creating.

>I can't be a ruler.

C: You're the successor Rhea appointed, aren't you? And now you're also the hero who saved Fódlan. C: All those weak people who have nothing to cling to but their goddess... They'll rely on you just like they used to rely on Rhea. C: You'll be a leader all who are struggling to survive in war-torn lands can look up to. C: And I...I want a ruler who can lay down a new set of values for the people. Values that don't exclude anyone for being different. C: I know it's a lot to ask. But you're the only one who can do it. C: ... C: I have something else to ask. Please... I hope you'll accept this. C: When I first saw you wield the Sword of the Creator, I wanted to use your power to my advantage. C: I wanted to use you to make my dream of a new world come true. C: But before long, I realized what I really wanted was to see that new world...with you by my side. C: I still feel that way, you know. I always will. That's why I have to leave. C: But nothing will stop me from coming back. There's no way I'm gonna let you go. You know that, don't you? C: Thank you... For everything. C: I'll be back before you know it. We'll only be apart for a short while. C: And now... I'm off to cross Fódlan's Throat. C: I love you. With everything I am. And the next time we see each other...it will be at the dawn of a whole new world. A peaceful, happy world.

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paired ending

After ascending the throne as the first leader of the United Kingdom of Fódlan, Byleth sought to rebuild the war-torn towns and villages and to help guide the reformation of the Church of Seiros. After a few months of peace, remnants of the Imperial army joined with those who slither in the dark and marched upon the capital city of Derdriu. The new kingdom lacked the power to repel the invaders, but when defeat seemed imminent, a battle cry rang out from the east. Claude, the newly-crowned King of Almyra, led a mighty army that broke through the rebel forces with ease. This show of solidarity forever altered the course of history, heralding a new age of unity.

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night of the ball

C: Oh. Hey, Teach. What brings you to the Goddess Tower? C: You know what, never mind. The answer is as clear as day. You couldn't bear the ball anymore and simply had to escape.

>I wouldn't say that...

C: There's nothing wrong with admitting you're not\ncomfortable in a noisy crowd.

>I just needed a break.

C: Really, I get it. I'm the same way.

>I don't believe it.

C: Ha! See right through me, do you? But I really do mean it. Parties aren't for me. C: Music and fun are all well and good, but those dances the nobles do are...something else. C: I was never really taught to do that sort of thing. My upbringing was...lacking in certain ways.

>Even though you're from a noble family?

>Even though you're heir to the Alliance?

C: Even so. I may have secured a fancy new title, but who I am on the inside... Well, status alone can't change that. C: That's a bit of an aside, though. Say, Teach...have you heard the legends about this tower? C: They say if a man and a woman pray for the same thing here, on this night, the goddess will grant their wish without fail.

>Why tonight?

C: Who knows? Maybe it has something to do with celebrating the anniversary of the monastery's completion. C: Maybe the goddess comes down from above on this night and this night alone to celebrate with us. Even goddesses like to party, right? C: The truth is that it's just a legend the students here like to tell. It's not based on any real facts. C: But I suppose it would be a waste to pass up a chance of having our wish granted. What do you say, Teach? Care to try?

>What would we pray for?

C: Hm... Let's see... How about we pray for our ambitions to come true? C: You don't exactly seem like the selfish type, but even you must have an ambition or two.

>I do.

C: That's what I thought. It's the same for everyone.

>I do not.

C: Even if you're not aware of it, I'm sure there's something your heart of hearts wishes for.

>More of a hope...

C: No one is ever completely satisfied. Everyone has something they long for. Otherwise, what's the point of it all?

C: Of course, same goes for me. Without even realizing it, I found myself holding tight to some pretty big ambitions. C: If you would... I would love for you to share in those ambitions with me, Teach. C: But all that aside, let's get started. Let's pray to the goddess before she tuckers out for the evening. OK... Here goes. C: Oh, divine Goddess! Hear our prayers! We beseech you and your radiance! Please, grant us that which we seek! C: Huh. C: I think that should do it. The goddess'll make our dreams come true now, yeah?

>I wonder.

C: At any rate, we've done all we can. Whether we actually believe our dreams will come true or not is up to us. C: I suppose we should head back soon. I'm sure everyone is looking for you. C: Just promise to spare a dance for me. OK, Teach? I swear, so long as it's not one of those goofy noble dances, I am a treasure on the dance floor!