#I hope I’ve managed to shed light on some of those clashes in this post

[starlene]

Layers of symbolism in Barbie (2023)

I’ve seen Barbie twice now, and I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the symbolism in the story. It’s a lot!

So, I wrote a breakdown.

Barbie (the character)’s story

In Barbie’s story…

👠 Barbieland symbolizes girlhood, childhood, innocence, immaturity, and naivety.

👟 The Real World symbolizes womanhood, adulthood, growing older and more mature, and becoming a fully realized human. It also symbolizes accepting the inevitability of change, aging, and death.

🏢 Mattel symbolizes society in general, and men in particular, telling women how to live their lives.

✂ Weird Barbie is an example of a woman who does not look and do as she is told. For that, other Barbies have punished her by calling her names and pushing her aside – so at first, Barbie is terrified of becoming like her. At the same time, Weird Barbie is a wise female mentor who helps Barbie along on her journey.

→ For Barbie, moving to The Real World means she is free of the expectations Mattel, and people in general, put on Barbie dolls: she doesn’t have to be perfect or only dress in pink and pastels anymore. No one can put her into a box anymore.

→ At the same time, Barbie leaving her hyper-feminine aesthetic behind when she leaves Barbieland for good symbolically connects that aesthetic with childhood and immaturity. In turn, her more subdued costume in the last scene of the movie symbolically connects that aesthetic to adulthood and maturity.

→ Moving to The Real World is a positive change for Barbie: she becomes more mature and learns to appreciate the beauty in aging. However, I think it’s noteworthy how the movie mostly shows The Real World in a negative light: while in The Real World, Barbie gets disappointed, harassed, and chased down, and all of this makes her experience anxiety for the first time.

→ In the end, Barbie can’t stay in Barbieland because she’s grown too mature for it, showing that it’s impossible to escape growing up – even when the world of grown-ups seems very chaotic and unfair. Becoming a woman means you have to encounter, and learn to deal with, toxic masculinity and the patriarchy.

Ken (the character)’s story

In Ken’s story…

🕺 Ken himself symbolizes a young, immature man who hasn’t found his place within society and who has a very low self-confidence. Instead of placing value on himself and his inherent qualities, he has tied his whole sense of self-worth to Barbie’s approval. As a group, Kens are oppressed within Barbieland.

💃 Barbie symbolizes an idealized image of a perfect girlfriend. At the same time, she is someone who inadvertently hurts Ken because she doesn’t understand her own privileged position within their society. As a group, Barbies are the oppressors within Barbieland.

👠 Barbieland symbolizes oppression, marginalization, and social exclusion. For Ken, it’s a society that has no place for him or people like him.

👟 The Real World symbolizes patriarchy, which Ken interprets to mean a society where things are better for Kens than they are in Barbieland. (In truth, as Ken grows to learn, it’s a system that harms all genders with its strict and oppressive gender roles.)

🐎 Horses symbolize all the positive, joyous, healthy, harmless, non-toxic parts of masculinity.

→ In short, Ken’s story is about a young man falling into the manosphere, and how good self-confidence and supportive connections with other men can help battle toxic masculinity.

→ Just like Barbie, Ken too matures during the course of his character arc: he acknowledges that he’s been wrong about the patriarchy, he starts to feel a sense of self-worth that’s not tied to Barbie, and he learns to lean on other Kens for support.

→ Unlike Barbie, though, Ken remains in Barbieland at the end of the movie, and presumably starts working together with other Kens and Barbies to shape it into a more equal society. This is because to Ken, Barbieland does not symbolize childhood like it does to Barbie, so he doesn’t have to leave it behind when he grows up.

→ When you think about Barbie as a part of Ken’s story, it feels disappointing that when they arrive in The Real World and Barbie experiences the way real women are mistreated, she doesn’t seem to make much of a connection to the way Barbies mistreat Kens in Barbieland. This is, again, because The Real World symbolizes different things to Barbie and Ken.

→ Unfortunately, all too often, the joyous parts of masculinity become tied together with sexism and toxic ideas. The way horses are often seen as a girly thing in our modern-day culture underlines how ridiculous this is: Ken assumes horses and the patriarchy go together and gets into both, though actually, they have nothing to do with each other. In reality, Ken just wants to enjoy the majesty of horses – that is, the positive parts of his own masculinity.

Barbie <3 Ken

👫 The relationship between Barbie and Ken symbolizes heteronormativity and amatonormativity, and the way those concepts are forced down all our throats practically from toddlerhood.

→ Barbie and Ken are not in a real relationship with each other. At the start of the movie, they’re both too immature to understand what being in a relationship means – let alone if they really want that for themselves and each other.

→ Ken is in love with an idealized image of Barbie he has created in his mind. He tries to play the part of a perfect boyfriend, though he doesn’t really know or understand what being a boyfriend entails.

→ Barbie, in turn, is not romantically interested in Ken at all.

→ Despite all this, people (and even Barbie and Ken themselves) expect Barbie and Ken to be together. Notably, the Mattel CEO thinks that Barbie’s ending is that she is in love with Ken, even though there has been literally no evidence in the entire movie that this is the case.

From a female point of view

To the human characters Gloria and Sasha, and also to many real women watching the movie…

👭 Barbies symbolize idealized, stereotypical, perfect femininity.

👠 Barbieland symbolizes girlhood, childhood, imagination, and fun. It’s a thought experiment; a safe haven reminiscent of the innocence of childhood; a place where women can be whatever they want while looking and acting unashamedly feminine.

👟 The Real World is a place where the idealized femininity of Barbies and Barbieland is unobtainable. For many women, instead of being a source of inspiration, idealized depictions of womanhood turn into a burden, something that restricts and disheartens women instead of uplifting them.

Barbieland

👠 Apart from its role in the arcs of individual characters, Barbieland is an exaggerated mirror image of the real world we live in. It’s a joke that criticizes the gender inequality of our world – and as such, it acknowledges that one gender holding power over others is not a good thing.

→ Somewhat confusingly, it’s treated as a victory when Barbies take Barbieland back from Kens – even though that means returning to the unequal matriarchy, not becoming a truly equal society.

→ This is because in Barbie (the character)’s story and to Gloria and Sasha, instead of being a symbol of an unequal society, Barbieland symbolizes girlhood innocence and unabashed femininity. The Barbies, Gloria and Sasha take the joy they feel in their girlhood and femininity back from the patriarchy, which is certainly a feat worth celebrating!

Mattel (the fictional version of the company)

Finally, from the fictional Mattel board of directors’ point of view…

👠 Barbieland is a reflection of their Barbie brand and products, though it’s also shaped by the people who buy Barbies and play with them.

👭 Barbies are a way of making money. Because of that, the executives think they have to be perfectly beautiful and, thus, marketable. Notably, the Mattel CEO doesn’t like Gloria’s idea of a Normal Barbie – until he’s shown evidence that it will make Mattel loads of money, which causes him to immediately change his mind.

✂ Weird Barbie shows the way many children really play with Barbies. Rough play is not in line with Mattel’s pristine brand for Barbie, so Weird Barbie is pushed aside in Barbieland.

→ Barbieland is the way that it is partially because that’s how Mattel has designed it, partially because that’s how the girls who play with Barbies want it. For example, Kens are oppressed because no one likes to play with Kens as much as they like playing with Barbies, and thus, Mattel also puts less resources in designing and marketing them.

→ Somewhat confusingly, this connection goes both ways: the things that happen in Barbieland also affect the things that Mattel does. For example, when Ken redecorates Barbie’s Dreamhouse so it becomes Ken’s Mojo Dojo Casa House, Mattel’s factory starts producing Mojo Dojo Casa Houses in The Real World. What is that all about??

~

This is all I can think of right now. Let me know if you’ve interpreted something differently, or if you think I’ve missed something!

[canid-slashclaw]

The Outliers - A Guildwars Love Story

Chapter 4

Amalthia adjusted the acetylene/oxygen regulator of her welding torch as she attempted to fuse the final piece of her rifle scope together.  All of the components fit together perfectly except for the rear sighting post that stubbornly refused to seat properly. 

"Just about... there!"  

With the final spool of flux, she managed to solder together the last piece of her custom made handiwork.  But just as she was about to shut down her workstation, she heard some rustling downstairs followed by a couple of guttural voices.  

"Amalthia. Come down here now!"  Her father called from downstairs. Once she had shut down her welding station, her nostrils immediately picked up the strong stench of rotting flesh.  

Crap! I forgot to take out the refuse barrels last night.  They're probably all maggoty by now.

She opened the window to her upstairs room hoping the fresh air would dissipate the scent.  The room was already hot and stuffy due to her metallurgical hobby.  

If only this place had an actual work shed, she pondered as she slipped on a pair of grungy open-toed boots that somewhat accommodated her clawed digitigrade feet.

"Did you forget to take out the rubbish barrels, again? The entire cutting room smells like a mortuary."  Her father's voice carried to her upstairs room in his characteristic bellowing tone.  

Padding down the spiral staircase, she looked across the living den and noticed the presence of another individual who happened to be a charr like her. 

"Silly me. When I looked down I honestly thought the smell was coming from that woman other there.  Oh.  Hi mother.  I thought I recognized your odor," Amalthia said while glaring at the female charr that was standing near the service counter.  

Siri Blastfuse turned towards her smart-mouthed daughter giving only a slightly raised eyebrow as her slitted green eyes narrowed with contempt.  "So the little cub deigns to disrespectfully greet her generous mother in spite of having a serious hangover.  I am delighted that you had enough initiative within you to even make it out of bed, runt."

Amalthia rolled her eyes, pursed her lips then nodded with a half-cocked smile.  "Well, I just had to verify where such a foul odor was coming from.  At first I thought it was from the overripe meat in the cutting room, but then I saw your face and now I'm not so sure."

Ludrick growled with anger.  "That's enough out of you both.  Amalthia - your dam came here to let you know that she's been actively searching for warbands who may be willing to take you under their wing.  Siri - give her the details... not the snark."

"Amalthia.  My only surviving lush and shriveled-runt-of-a-lame-sire - I have some news that I thought might bring a ray of sunshine into your otherwise shameful existence," Siri said mockingly.  

"I heard the legions have set up an all-volunteer regiment of suicide bombers.  Were you the first to raise your paw when the call of duty was issued?"  Her daughter replied with a smirk. 

"That would make you too happy, now wouldn't it?  No runt.  I'm offering you a chance to make something of yourself.  I've taken valuable time out of my busy schedule to search out a warband who might be interested in taking your sorry, alcohol-laden carcass into their ranks."

"You are so sweet, mother.  You would almost have me believe that actual blood pumps through that heart of yours, instead of ice.   Tell me there's not a catch behind all of this."  Amalthia looked at her mother skeptically. 

Her mother cocked her head slightly. "No catch.  I'm just sick of hearing it through the rumor mill as to what a pathetic loser you turned out to be.  Your current miserable state is bad for your sire's reputation as well as my own."

"Do you mean to tell me that you actually care for someone else other than just yourself?  Father - she just may a spark of light in that otherwise inky black heart of hers," came Amalthia's sarcastic retort.

"If the two of you cannot speak to each other like civil adult charr then perhaps one of you should just leave.  Either way, Siri came to say what she needed and that's all fine by me." Ludrick s hobbled on his cane towards the dining room chair in the hopes that sitting for a bit would help take the pressure off his already throbbing foot. 

"Fine. I will haul those maggoty barrels to the back.  Just so long as I can put as much distance between me and that woman..." Amalthia huffed.

"This place reeks of piss, rotten carcasses and cow shit.  Come to think of it, I actually kind of regret pawning her off on you, Ludrick.  Had I known she would have turned out to be this sarcastic, drunk and lazy, I would have..."

"ENOUGH!"  The old charr's raged climaxed.  He then fixed his gaze upon his daughter then pointed towards the staircase leading to the basement butchery. Amalthia gave her parting snark before disappearing down the staircase.  "Very well, then.  I will have this place smelling like a basket of freshly cut roses in no time flat.  In the mean time, would you like me to scoop out a mound of fresh wiggly maggots for your take-out lunch, mother?  Word has it they really aid in digestion." 

Siri looked her former mate, crossed her beige clouded leopard spotted arms then shook her head.  "Where does that scrawny little sack of fur and bones get that mouth of hers from?  If it were up to me, I would have ripped the cub's tongue from her throat a long time ago. Why you allow her get away with so much is beyond my comprehension."

Ludrick pointed directly into her face.  "Look into any mirror and you'll find your answer, Siri.  She's the only lineage I have left. All of the other cubs I fathered are dead."

"Oh yes.  How could I forget?  You sired," Siri said as she began to count on her long, clawed hand, "just two litters?  Why didn't you continue to knock up more kittens after our relationship?  Were your loins just not up to the task or did something vital get lopped off?"

"Reasons, Siri.  Reasons..." Ludrick lowered his head choosing to ignore her personal insults.

Siri looked him squarely into his eyes.  "Look.  I honestly don't care if that runt lives or dies, so long as her actions do not in any way sully my reputation."

"There was a time when you did care for our cubs; including Amalthia and her twin sister even though she died shortly after birth."

"My capacity for caring died along with our other three.  You are too softhearted, Ludrick.  And that softness is going to eventually be the doom of our people.  You do know that, right?"

Ludrick looked at her then shook his head.  "No Siri. Compassion is not weakness; it's a strength."

"What in the hell have you been sipping on, you old fool?  You've obviously been hanging around humans too long.  Now you're sounding sappy as well as sentimental."

"Open that poisoned tongue of yours once more and I'll show you just how much of a charr I still am.  Now get out of my house, now! Otherwise I just might crack that skull of yours wide open with this cane!" Ludrick roared as he held his wooden crutch aloft.

"Ohh.  Now that's the big, old hairy beast I used to know and adore.  Keep talkin' like that and you and I may end up getting frisky and pop out a new litter together... just for old times sake of course, " Siri said with a devious grin as she slowly strode towards the front door.  

"Out.  NOW!" Ludrick's voice thundered with rage.

Within the span of fifteen minutes, Amalthia emerged from downstairs. 

"I assume that evil woman has left the building.  The air already smells less foul," she said while glancing around the dining area.

"She's gone... at least for the time being. Amalthia - I wish things were... oh, never mind."

"Oh my.  The effects of inebriation are beginning to wear off.  Talking like a teary-eyed human is a sure sign of this condition," Amalthia quipped. 

"Bah!  Please tell me you didn't finish that last liter of mead when you went downstairs."

"I would never be that cruel to you, sire.  There's just enough for each of us to have one pint.  I kept it in reserve for situations just such as this."

Amalthia helped her father down the flight of stairs as he hobbled trying to avoid putting undue pressure on his right foot.  Once they were in the cutting room, father and daughter split the remaining contents of the liter between them.

"Yanno.  I don't think there's a charr on the surface of Tyria who can match wits with my Amalthia," Ludrick said as he offered a toast. 

"To a life of loose lips and brooding loneliness."

In spite of her inebriated state, Amalthia raised her stein then clashed it against his partially empty mug. 

"I'll certainly drink to the first part, father."

[annewithagee]

Seven and a Half (1)

It was only a week before Gilbert would leave for Kingsport and not much more before Anne would go to Summerside herself - and yet, it could be nothing but the happiest week of their lives so far. The week when they got engaged. Shirbert, post Anne of the Island.

fanfiction.net / AO3

Chapter 1: The brithday of our happiness

“And as for the waiting, that doesn’t matter. We’ll just be happy, waiting and working for each other—and dreaming. Oh, dreams will be very sweet now.”

Gilbert drew her close to him and kissed her. Then they walked home together in the dusk, crowned king and queen in the bridal realm of love, along winding paths fringed with the sweetest flowers that ever bloomed, and over haunted meadows where winds of hope and memory blew.

- Lucy Maud Mongomery, “Anne of the Island”

Ever since she had been a little girl, Anne Shirley had often thought of what her first kiss would be like.

It had been little more than a dream at first, when she had felt too lonely and unloved to fully believe it might indeed happen to her one day; a colourful vision that had clashed so terribly with the cold and bleakness of the orphanage, with the hostility and despise of the homes she had lived in. Back then, she had not even given herself the right to carry her own name with her in those dreams, living them through her heroines, Princess Cordelia being her most natural choice.

After all, what was the chance that the homely, freckled, unwanted Anne could ever charm someone enough to willingly kiss her?

It had taken many years and the constant, almost stubborn support of Diana Barry for Anne to finally overcome the horrid and unjust image she had had of herself. Even then, however, her wish of this special caress always remained somewhat abstract, with poetry and music successfully blocking any trace of reality that tried to enter her thoughts in the process. She well remembered her girl friends' musings and comments on the appearance of the boys they knew: Ruby, swooning over one or other of her beaux, both at Queens and in her joyful Carmody circle; Diana, shyly pointing out how much the looks of her beloved Fred might gain if examined closely; even Stella and Priss, only half-jokingly admitting that if they were to have a kiss stolen from them, they could easily indicate which of the possible candidates they would have liked to see in that role the most.

And only Anne refused to give her man o' dreams any particular shape or face, beside fitting him into the well-worn, yet sufficiently vague description of the dark-eyed, mysterious knight, and feeling greatly vexed every time one of her chums suggested that under a favourable light and even more favourable circumstances, a certain pair of hazel eyes could be easily called both of those things.

And yet, as she stood in the midst of Hester Grey's garden now, held in the most loving embrace by no other but Gilbert Blythe himself, she could do little else but admit that she would willingly take the sparkling, teasing, tender hazels over any dark and misty gaze she might find along her way.

And he was, indeed, kissing her.

It was a strange sensation, for a lack of a better word. It was as abstract and incomprehensible as one might think, surprising in all its freshness and yet more astonishing still in how real and familiar it was. The same lips which she had watched for years, with one corner twitching up in a teasing smile or it all curved in an unwelcome grimace of vexation or pain... the same lips that had professed his love to her mere minutes ago... those lips were now pressed softly against her own, caressing her with an utmost gentleness and yet with an eagerness and longing of a decade of wait behind it.

Inexperienced as they both were, she could not imagine herself feeling more comfortable with him than she was right now.

"So many dreams I've had of this and yet they all pale in comparison with the real thing. With the real you," she heard him murmur as he had finally pulled away from her. "Anne, you can't know – you can't imagine how long I've been waiting for a chance to kiss you like this."

Anne met his gaze then and saw it was as dark as it had been in their most heated moments in the past, be it their fiery arguments over their Redmond assessments, discussed both in Avonlea and then Kingsport itself, or the rare moments of impatience, when Gilbert’s walls had crumbled to reveal the yearning of the heart she had not been ready to accept. It was a look that had scared her then – a sign of change she had once feared so much, one she had tried to prevent with such despair.

But her fears were gone now; whether it was mostly because of her own change of heart, or the new flash of happiness that brightened Gilbert's eyes this time, she could not yet tell... But she knew for sure that she was equally glad to recognise both.

"Well, I suppose your confession sheds some light on that matter," she said with a small, shy smile and a blush that still had not gone from her cheeks. "The slate, was it?"

Gilbert chuckled lightly at her words and tightened his grasp, holding her even closer to him that he had before. She felt her skin warm up further at the little change, the sensation helped greatly by the feel of his chest rising under her hands that still rested on the pats of his grey suit. She had an odd feeling that it was not exactly wise to lower her eyes to its level, either, but it was too late to worry about that aspect of it now...

And besides, when, if not now, when was she to experience all that?

"I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you hoped it to be," she picked up again timidly with a small, slightly embarrassed laugh of her own. She glanced up at Gilbert and saw him look at her curiously. "The... The kiss. I obviously had no chance to work on that particular skill in advance, and since even my dreams of it are so much younger than yours..."

"For goodness' sake, Anne, stop that right now," he cut her off, easing his embrace a little by lifting one of his hands to her still parted lips. "I only just told you that it had exceeded all of my dreams. What more reassurance do you need from me, now?"

With his fingers still pressed gently against her mouth, Anne could hardly be expected to answer right away. Gilbert, however, clearly had no intention of silencing her in that particular way, and instead chose to brush said fingers over the corner of her lips, over the flushed, pinky cheeks, over the fine line of his beloved girl's jaw. Anne could not help but let out a sigh at this; her eyelids fluttering shut for the shortest of moments, only to open up again at the sound of the most quiet, yet certainly very satisfied hum on his part.

Once again she met his eye, recognising the old look of self-assurance she had once thought had been lost for good.

"You know, Gilbert, judging from your expression alone, I think you are enjoying this far too much," she pointed out softly, although the teasing twinkle of her eye was unmistakable.

Gilbert's smile turned roguish in response to her words and he leaned in towards her again, his lips hovering over hers in a proximity that had only occurred between them once before. His own eyes were sparkling with mischief, and suddenly, Anne could not call the sight anything but endearing.

He was endearing.

"Oh, but I think I've earned it."

Almost despite herself, she pulled away from him a little, her face falling at the renewed remembrance of the past longing and hurt. Gilbert noted the change in an instant and cupped her cheek with the same hand that had already been holding her waist, ready to stop her on the dangerous path he knew she'd been about to step on. And yet, before he even managed to open his mouth to speak about it, Anne changed her tactics abruptly and threw her arms around his neck, clinging onto him in a tight embrace he had no reason to expect two seconds earlier.

With her face buried in the crook of his neck and her soft hair tickling his ear, she said the only thing that came to her suddenly troubled mind.

"Oh, Gil, I do love you so!"

This she knew how to do. To show the true depths of her affection, not by words as much as it was by action; by this simple yet most meaningful gesture, one that she had not yet had the chance to make towards him, even though she had practised it so many times on those she loved. All of her feelings seemed to be locked in her clasp, radiating onto him even when he could not tell what she was saying by it.

It was an embrace of a daughter, a sister, a friend – now to become one of a woman betrothed, ready to give all of the love she had stored in her soul and to discover the new seams of it with the man she had chosen to do it with.

As positively surprised as Gilbert was by this sudden display, however, it was not it that caught his attention this time. After just a few moments he pulled away, just like Anne had done before; his eyes round with awe and elation that had overcome him so completely. An enormous grin blossomed on his face as he looked into those green-grey irises of which he had dreamt for so many years now, a grin that only widened when she looked at him, surprised, only to shift her gaze down at his own collar, blushing.

"It's the first time you've said it," he whispered, trembling with excitement he didn't even try do hide, while Anne gazed back at him, her own eyes widening as she comprehended his words. He leaned in again, resting his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, never ceasing to smile. "Can you please say it again?"

Before Anne managed to stammer anything out, Gilbert decided to surprise her even further, loosening his tight grip on her delicate frame and crouching suddenly before her. She could feel his arms wrap around her knees a moment later, and before she knew it, she was in the air, spun around to the sound of a most jubilant laughter, too shocked to even determine if the cry she'd heard in response really was her own reaction to it.

The sudden shriek only made Gilbert laugh more, and even when he eventually stopped spinning, the smile on his countenance was as sly and satisfied as it was loving. The feel of Anne's fingers buried into his shoulders thrilled him infinitely, and he could not willingly bring this moment to an end.

"Say it again," he repeated emphatically, rejoicing at this new closeness he could finally share with her. "Please, Anne."

"Gilbert Blythe, put me down!" was all she cared to say in response.

"I won't," he responded evenly, tightening his grip so she could at least feel a little more secure. "It's the day when my dreams come true; and since having you in my arms like this definitely is one of them, I'm going to keep it that way for as long as I can."

Anne found that she could hardly answer him with anything more than another flush of her cheeks. A smile returned to her own face as she gazed at the man who had so unexpectedly turned out to be so dear, and only the memories of their old days and shared mischief stopped her from bending down and kissing him fiercely without further delay.

"And what about my dreams?" she asked playfully instead, her hand slipping to the back of his neck and stroking his hair gently. "Are they of any meaning today?"

"Of course they are, silly. And I promise you we'll take care of them as soon as you're back on the ground safely."

It was Anne's turn to laugh at him then; with a little hesitation she moved her hands again, trusting Gilbert to hold her securely while she cupped his face between her slender fingers and brushed her thumbs against his cheeks. For long moments did they gaze at one another, so much that Anne began to wonder just how long exactly her fiancé could stay in this position unchanged.

Realising that she was by no mean willing to find out, she spoke to him at last.

"Well, I do fear that my dreams are scandalously similar to yours now, Mr Blythe," she admitted sweetly, well aware of – although still slightly surprised by – the effect her words were having on him. "And even though I have not spent a decade wanting to say those words to you, there was little else I wanted to do these past few weeks – and they did feel like years to me."

She saw his look darken as she bent down to whisper, "I do love you, Gil. I love you so much it hurts me, and it scares me and it absolutely thrills me – and to know that you still care for me too is the greatest and most undeserved gift that has ever been given to me."

She closed the distance between them then, knowing he would use the opportunity to oppose her had he only been given one, and not at all wanting to engage in such conversation right now. So she kissed him, sweetly and lingeringly, taking her time to learn her own way through this new, exciting field and trusting Gilbert to appreciate her endeavours rather than mock her for her inexperience in it. As she had hoped, his response was as eager as her try; his grip on her legs tightening once again as his lips caressed hers, his head raised up in a desperate urge not to risk parting with her ever again.

At some point Gilbert's claps loosened and he placed her down on her feet again, although Anne could not for the life of her determine when exactly that particular change of setting occurred. But that her arms slid around his neck instantly, instinctively, was a fact – that he deepened his kiss with the same haste was a fact, too.

Neither of them felt like coming home just yet.

[its-morphin-time-xiv]

<== Journey PT.5 ==>

[Mood]

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[2]

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[3.5]

(( More under the cut! Cause holy shit. ))

A cold breeze swept across the early evening across Yanxia, the sun had began to set across the western horizon, casting it's warm and dwindling glow along the land. The whirr of Imperial airships filled the air as they buzzed from Castrum to Castrum, carrying goods and supplies to its inhabitants. A newly found Belladonna, teacher and his sister sat along a line of beach so that they could see the Empire's activity.

It had been some time since their initial arrival, a fortnight if one could properly say. The harrowing journey across the five seas gave the highlander without a home a chance to learn how to walk again, and recover from her nigh near fatal injuries. Proud and fond of her new sense of pride and strength, Sanada and his sister walked with Belladonna, glad that their work, that their training took hold and stayed.

Their presence here, on this bank of sand was of no mere coincidence, nearby there was a outpost of the Empire, that had been, despite the occupation's relative "calm" had been a buzz with activity, and has caused the nearby villages a disturbance. Posing as simple travelers, the trio managed to explore the land with little issue from those who live and those who occupy these lands. The world seemed content with its occupation... or so it seemed.

Bell' could see the fear in everyone's eyes, the hidden anger, and even the want to act, but none did. The struggle to live with such an extreme sect of the Empire was something she could not let idle, despite the preaching of the elders and the youths.

During much of the journey over the seas, Belladonna was told the tales of the recent happenings across the borders of the land. With every word, she understood more and more, the world seemed to grow smaller, yet remain ever large as the blanks of her mind and map were filled in. Isayama took charge of the once-was shinobi's catch up on history, much like Sanada and Bell's physical therapy... But another tale for another time.

The waves of the water washed gently against the shoreline as Bell took hold of her scabbard, a grunt from her as she forced herself up to her feet, beginning the march of three to the outpost. The daylight was fading.. and the changing of the guard was now... No better opportunity to cause *chaos*.

Standing atop of a hill, they could see the small walled outpost, several buildings of varying height, no watch towers and a singular landing pad for airships. The night before the trio had planned their plan of attack, two from the gates and one from above. Much to Isayama's dismay, Bell demanded that she herself would take on the high point, while the Teijo twins would run first wave.

As the seconds turned to minutes as they ticked by, each person gave their signal.

With a blast and flurry of confusion both front gates were shrouded in a hazy black smoke, those on guard were in the middle of their exchange, lost and confused by the sudden shudder of the earth, the guards went to charge forward, shouting in their tongue that they were under siege by insurgents...

Eyes closed, Bella grew quite a grin as the small outpost became a buzz of chaos... one that she loved. Standing on the edge of one of the higher buildings she unsheathed her weapon, it's hues of silver aglow in the setting sun. The highlander lept off the high roof, intend on cutting down one of the rear guards.

There was an crack of thunder in the open air as sword was met with another sword. A flash of black and red and the highlander's blade was parried by an Imperial in armored uniform...

Pushing off the armor, Bell bounded back, sliding to a halt as she stood eye to eye amidst the chaos with an Imperial... No guard, no common foot soldier no... Something... Something else.

Not a word was spoken as she stared at the glowing eyes of a metal monster before her. Yet the armor stood barely taller than her, and there was... something off.. She had seen this before... This armor.. But nothing could come to mind... to bare.

Once, twice, three times, then four their blades clashed and once more she found herself pushed away, at an impasse with this metal.

The highlander opened her mouth but not to speak simply just words as beads of sweat rolled down her cheeks, the world around her seemed to blur and only the monster of armor was what she could see before her...

For what she said next... it rang out, not only in her, but in the armor that opposed her as well...

I've seen your face in the shadows. I've seen your face in the places I wasn't meant to be. I've heard them whisper about you. I've heard the men in the bars And I've seen the women lock their doors at night Lock your doors tonight They say your eyes are on fire. They say you'd kill a man for walking the wrong side of the line The wrong side of the line But men, they say a lot of foolish things And in the end the only words I can find to believe in are mine.

They say: (This city) This city, (She's been dead) She's been dead For years now... (for years now) For years now. (for years now)

So death is (So death is) Not something (not something) Not something that scares me (that scares me...) That scares me ...

There's worse things (There's worse things) Than death here (than death here) They told me (Keep quiet!)

I will not be told where to stand! I will not be told what to say. Not by man or machine, Not by you, not by anyone tonight! You're gonna have to do better than fear You're gonna have to step out of the shadows and fight!

And when they see your face again, They will know what it means To have fear dragged out into the light. Drag it out!

They say: (This city) This city... (she's been dead) She's been dead for years now (for years now) For years now. (for years now)

So death is (So death is) Not something... (not something) Not something that scares me! (that scares me...) That scares me

So come on! Come on! Step out into the light!

Both blades were stained red now, armor and cloth on both persons were not unscathed...Across from the highlander, the monster of armor’s visor had several slashes along it’s glowing red magitek eyes… One or two lucky swings forward slashed apart and left open, showing the truth beneath the metal… the real eyes.. The real face beneath it.. And the voice of another woman from within could be heard… seemingly responding with words of her own as Bell continued amidst their clash of titans.

So this city! (this city) She's been dead (she's been dead) For years now... (for years now) For years now. (for years now)

So death is (So death is) (Not something) Not something that scares me! (that scares me) That scares me (that scares me)

There's worse things (This city) Than death here (she's been dead) (For years now) There's loss and there's silence and sadness!(for years now)

Belladonna’s hands were shaking…

(So death is) So come on, (Not something) Come on! (That scares me) Just open your mouths and revive it! (that scares me)

(This city) (She's been dead) (For years now) (For years now) (So death is) (Not something) (That scares me)

As the final words were said and sung… Both parties were exhausted, one worse off than the other, but each warrior stood tall. Shaking in her breath, Belladonna finally took a glance around her. The soldiers stationed had formed a circle, no weapons were drawn and amidst the line, there she saw the twins, standing tall, their weapons sheathed as they had been watching the spectacle of Red, Black and Blue.

The helmet of the armor finally hissed as it was released from its locks. The condition the metal husk was left in was irreparable, as soon as the locks released the helmet fell to pieces, rolling off its wearer, revealing a woman…. Her hair was of the same shades, if only darker and grey. Her eyes shimmering lavender in the close lights.. Features unmistakable…

Belladonna’s eyes widened in both fear and awe as she watched metal be shed, red glow exchanged for hues much like her own...

“... M.. Mother..?”

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

YES I KNOW IT’S BEEN A WHILE, I GOT LAZY SHIT I HAD TO DO FIRST.

Real talk though, after coming back from vacation, it was very tough for me to get back into the swing of things, but i do hope this piece made up for it! 

((yes i’m aware we’re missing a piece! ;)  ))

[gadgetsrevv]

Hibernian v Hearts: Smashed windows & cult heroes – derby day in Edinburgh

Boyhood Hibernian fan Ian Murray made over 250 appearances for the Easter Road club

Scottish Premiership: Hibernian v Heart of Midlothian Venue: Easter Road Date: Sunday, 22 September Kick-off: 15:00 BST Coverage: Listen to BBC Radio Scotland and follow live text commentary on the BBC Sport Scotland website & app

Derby day in Edinburgh is always fraught, but Sunday’s meeting at Easter Road carries even greater anxiety than usual.

Hibernian, meek and flailing after a bright start to life under Paul Heckingbottom, have not won a Premiership game since the opening weekend. Heckingbottom’s raft of summer signings has made little impact and pressure is mounting on the head coach.

Things are worse in Gorgie. Hearts sit bottom of the league, winless in 12 top-flight matches with fans baying for the dismissal of Craig Levein. The manager retains the public backing of owner Ann Budge but sating the irate supporters will be extremely tough.

This will be a clash of consequence for each boss; the heat could rise or cool depending on who prevails.

Here, four veterans of this huge fixture shed a light on the magnitude, the emotions and the tumult of the battle to be crowned kings of Scotland’s capital.

‘Our bus got bricked that night’

In October 2013, Hearts were bottom of the table with a callow squad. They started the season on minus 15 points as punishment for entering administration and were rank outsiders to knock Hibs out of the League Cup at Easter Road.

Ryan Stevenson was one of Hearts’ remaining senior players. That day, he lashed in the glorious winner in a 1-0 victory. Hibs had James McPake sent off and the bad feeling spilled over, home fans waiting to confront Hibs boss Pat Fenlon, who left his post two days later.

“Our bus got bricked that night. The side window had been put in when we came out so we had to get escorted away,” Stevenson recalls. “It gives you a wee bit more motivation for the next one.

“I understood my record as well: ‘I’ve not lost here in so many games, I’m definitely not losing this one’. It just kept propelling us. We just knew how to win derbies, we even knew how to draw games with Hibs when we weren’t playing well.”

Stevenson played in 15 derbies between 2010 and 2014, losing only three. Hearts bossed the fixture in those days. When Stevenson arrived, the management team of Jim Jefferies, Billy Brown and Gary Locke hammered its importance into their players.

Ryan Stevenson’s Hearts dominated Hibs during his time at Tynecastle

“We would get on the bus to the stadium and they were playing videos of all the Hearts goals in the derbies, Hearts wins, the Hearts songs playing – you were going to war, basically. It was made clear to you how much it meant to the fans; losing was never an option,” Stevenson says.

“Even the year we got relegated in 2014, I remember when Hibs were coming to Tynecastle knowing a win would relegate us and it was all about how they were coming for a party. The amount of pressure on the young Hearts boys to not get relegated by Hibs.

“I remember going into the changing room and we were all relishing it. We never, ever thought, ‘Here we go, we could get relegated today’. It was always just, ‘Aye, we’ll show them’ and we won 2-0.

“In my time at Hearts, we felt Hibs were a bit soft. They had very good players but we had a core of men. Marius Zaliukas, Rudi Skacel, Andy Webster, all boys I would look up to if the games weren’t going as well as we’d hoped. Whether they’ve got that now… they’re sitting bottom of the league, so I think that tells you.”

What’s the upshot for the loser?

Ian Murray is a lifelong Hibs fan. He played for and captained the club during two spells, making over 250 appearances. Now managing Airdrieonians after stints in charge of Dumbarton and St Mirren, he rejects any suggestion that Sunday’s losing boss could also find themselves out of a job.

“All the noise is coming out of media and fans to an extent, but I don’t think it’s quite as critical as it’s being made out to be,” he says.

Murray resigned as St Mirren manager after just six months at the helm in December 2015 amid a poor run of form. The final straw was a 1-0 defeat by his previous club. The former defender says the fates of Heckingbottom and Levein will not hinge on a single game, but each boss will know if the time is right to walk.

“The general feel around the place wasn’t great, maybe like the situation at Hibs and Hearts,” Murray recalls. “You just get a feeling that you know what, it’s gone too far, nobody’s enjoying it, not just the supporters, but the coaching staff are thinking, is it really worth going through all this?

“That could be the case on Sunday night, but I just don’t see that happening.”

What about the glory?

Kevin Kyle won both Edinburgh derbies he played in for Hearts

Kevin Kyle loved his two years at Tynecastle. The towering striker rattled home an 86th-minute derby winner at Tynecastle on New Year’s day in 2011, etching himself into Hearts folklore.

“When I signed, I didn’t know what it would be like,” he says. “When I arrived and experienced it, I realised it’s a massive club. The fans have big expectations and it can be too much for some of the players.

“Eight years down the line, every time I go to Edinburgh somebody knows me or says, ‘There’s the big man, scored in a New Year derby against Hibs’.

“It’s only one goal but I’m a cult hero because of that. I appreciate that, it’s absolutely magic. That day I did the man-of-the-match speech, jumped in the car and went home and had a Chinese with the missus. Now I think, ‘Why didn’t I go out in Edinburgh that night and milk it?'”

Should Heckingbottom ‘do it the Hibs way’?

John Hughes was a colossus at the back for Hibernian, ferociously proud of his Leith heritage. He captained Hibs to a famous 3-0 triumph at Tynecastle in the “millennium derby” of 1999 but never beat Hearts in four attempts as manager at Easter Road.

“We were all football, football, football,” he says of the team he led for just over a year from 2009. “It was like two boxers – if they want to come out swinging, we’ll just dance around them. That was our whole philosophy. But sometimes in a derby you have to change it.

“Defensively, Hibs are going to have to stand up to the physical challenge. That worries me. You know what you’re getting from Hearts. You know it’ll get battered right at you and you have to stand up to it. If Heckingbottom wants to go more total football, he’s got the technical players to do that on the big pitch at Easter Road.

“If it works, and you get the victory, that’s doing it the Hibs way. That’s magnificent.”

Craig Levein’s Edinburgh derby highs and lows

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