#I know that Poll will get more lore as this goes on but unfortunately

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

I have so many ideas for TQ and Poll that I have no idea how to present so:

Random fun facts about my eggs! (some drawn, some written)

Poll has memories from before their adoption (including the tests the Federation put them through), while Tequilla is missing every memory from before about a week before he met Poll.

Poll once had a meltdown because she realised that her tail wasn't long enough to wrap around their brother's leg, like he can.

Poll had stripes in their dragon form before they got their colors. Similarly, Tequilla's freckles were the first thing to appear on his dragon form.

(Tequilla doesn't know how the crack appeared, but it seems like it's nearly healed up. He doesn't mind that it's there, but the lack of a horn makes him uncomfortable.)

Poll's first set horns haven't fully come in just yet. They're visible on his head but haven't broken the skin yet. They ache sometimes.

Poll and Tequilla have the same eye color now.

Poll's wings are larger proportionally than their brother's, which makes them very unwieldy but also means that they'll probably be able to fly sooner.

Tequilla is the better swimmer.

Poll doesn't have any fighting ability whatsoever, but Tequilla does. He prefers to use blunt objects. He's thinking about teaching Poll the basics, but it's pretty hard to do when all you have is the muscle memory.

Both have frequent nightmares, which has led them to always share a bed.

Tequilla hasn't gotten to the point he feels comfortable calling Stardust his parent.

Both trace their markings to stim/calm down. Sometimes they'll trace each other's if they're in reach.

Poll's ears have soft tufts on the tips and fuzz on the insides. Tequilla's are also very soft on the inside.

Tequilla's ears are shaped like goat ears, and are much more floppy than Poll's.

Sometimes they'll carry each other around in their egg form when they're not feeling very good.

Tequilla keeps very random objects in his messenger bag. Some are new, but a few were in there when he woke up in the forest. He doesn't recognize them, but he keeps them around just in case.

Both enjoy stargazing.

Poll doesn't have a humanoid form, unlike some of the other eggs they've met, because they have never actually met a human before. Their only experience is their other friends.

Tequilla threat displays like an owl, which makes him look bigger. Poll, on the other hand, looks very silly when they threat display. They hold their wings straight up in the air and tuck their arms against their chest, to make them look taller.

I might come back to this list some other time to add more but I'm very satisfied now.

[sluggybunny]

I like to do these so I can look back and realize people actually like my original content. Real ego boost, sorry

Under the cut is more lore. Winner of the poll gets NSFW alphabet written for them. Anyone who actually reads this I’ll give you a award for handling my bad writing

SATURN

My beloved lying. Born and raised in the streets yet she holds no loyalty. Her mother left when she was very young and she always wondered why and kept searching

Through a series of unfortunate events, one involving having cyber ware installed i her head without her knowledge,Saturn had a brief stint as a BLT junkie. Using that word strongly. She doesn’t remember anything from those years. Only movies.

Her magical awakening changed that and fried parts of her brain. She’s free and after her revenge spree was done, she took to the shadows.

Her story is one about lies and abandonment. Her mother abandoned the clan and then abandoned Saturn. Saturn will always be left behind, no one can really love Saturn. She tricks herself into thinking that’s fine. It goes back to the movies. The roles we play.

She is incapable of normal fear. The only time she felt fear is when a certain someone said those three little wordszz

Kalatran

Kalatran is a mystery. Do you know about earthdawn? If not, it’s ok. We’d be here all day if I tried to explain.

He sacrificed everything for his people and for himself. His family are dead because of his own ambitions and his inability to truly recognize it has lead to a very cracked and dangerous person.

He’s paranoia and power hungry. The hunger comes from fear. Everything comes from fear. He’s so far into what he’s doing that confronting it is impossible. He can’t because there’s no justification for all the death and pain he’s cause for… what? He doesn’t remember anymore. Everything he remembers is gone. What does he remember besides himself?

Hush

Nobody likes Hush. Most hate him. And he knows it. They hate him because he’s better (he tells himself) they hate him because of envy (he tells himself) if he makes him as hateable as possible then he can hide the real flaws he’s insecure about.

Hush’s worst fear is failure. And in a way he has failed and is a failure. He’s lost on what to do now. All this time, all these years, his Identity and shield he’s built up has become nothing. Who is Hush?

Keys

Everyone likes Keys, I think. We love old men. And he’s divorced! He is someone who believes he’s irredeemable and awful. He lives within every day, so close to wanting to and it all.

What keeps him going is he just needs to protect. He can’t help it, it’s his nature. He wants to protect and love so badly. But believe it can’t happen, he’s too rotten and evil. But he can. He loves deeply for many things in life and especially the few friends he has left.

[weirdass-shiptournament]

WELCOME TO THE (UN)OFFICIAL WEIRDASS SHIP TOURNAMENT‼️

DO YOU:

- Have a rare pair so rare they never interact in canon? Or even exist in the same canon?

- Is literally only known by a small circle of friends and is completely incomprehensible to the average onlooker?

THEN THIS IS THE POLL FOR YOU‼️

THE SUBMISSION RULES ARE:

- CANNOT interact in canon! We are talking the obscurest of obscure. I need to have to hunt these character down and edit them into a photo in order for them to be valid. If I google their names together and can easily find official pictures of them hanging out it’s invalid(exceptions can be made depending on circumstances)

- CAN be from different source material. Literally anything goes!! Anime character and Spongebob? OKAY!!! Two characters from the same show who’ve never interacted?? YES!! I’m looking for ships you need to explain the development of. There needs to be a lore.

- CANNOT have a mass following. Once again, I’m looking for ships that can only be comprehended by a group of friends with insider knowledge. So things like BBC Sherlock’s mormor, despite being a ship wjere one of the characters technically doesn’t exist, doesn’t count on account of being immensely popular and having several hundreds of fics made for them. WE’RE TALKING WEIRD. RANDOM. OBSCURE. There’s gotta be like 5 fics of them MAXIMUM(exceptions can be made if they’re all by the same one or two very dedicated ppl)

- ALL SUBMISSIONS WILL BE JUDGED BY DEDICATION NOT NUMBERS!!! I want you FIGHTING for your LIFE to justify why your blorbos are not only weird but extremely valid to ship. I want to see essays with the same passion and effort youd put into your English paper worth 50% of your grade.

AND THE POLL RULES ARE:

- NO REAL LIFE PEOPLE. streamers count.

- I have full control of who gets in or not. Once again, we are going by dedication, not numbers. Please don’t be upset if your blorbos do not make it in. I f things go well, I’ll probably do this again, so you’ll likely have more chances to see them submitted.

- I DO NOT HAVE ENCYCLOPEDIC KNOWLEDGE OF EVERY MEDIA EVER. while i will go out of my way to do background checks of any character I don’t recognize, I’m not very smart. If a ship gets in that’s in some way notably problematic, I assure you I did not know!! Please just DM me about it if it happens!!!

- I don’t want to see any trash talking towards other opponents. This is a for fun poll! Please have fun. Discover new weird ships to have. Form weird ship polycules with the opponents and kiss or smth. If I see any vile behavior in the polls you will be blocked.

- unfortunately I am a human bound by feelings and bias. This was originally just going to be a ‘weird a3 ships’ thing before I decided to branch out since I doubt I’d get many submissions sticking to one fandom. If you see a lot of a3! Specific ships thats because I have a lot of friends who are all individually buckwild about certain weird ships.

- ALL PROPAGANDAIS NOT ONLY BELOVED AND ADORED BUT ENCOURAGED!!! GO APE!!!

THE SUBMISSIONS WILL LAST UNTIL MAY 15TH GMT -4‼️ (<- linked here)

(Should a date be needed I will specify later down the line. I will give more than enough time with a heads up for when I close submissions, so you do not have to worry about being too late to submit your blorbos.)

I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE SPECIAL SHOUTOUTS TO @pinkandbluebracket @redandyellowbracket @a3outfitstournament AND @greenhairandpronouns-tournament FOR MAKING POLLS SEEM FUN AND SILLY AND THUS MY ENCOURAGEMENT TO MAKE MY OWN!!! ALSO BECAUSE TAGGING SEEMS CUSTOMARY

[sasquach-scratches]

Unfortunately that poll of "Your Most Hated TES Game" has got me thinking again about my level of disgust across the series and tbh i kinda need to update that so I guess I'll use this to organize my thoughts lmao

For the record, though, I haven't played EVERY TES game out there and those I did weren't finished half the time

Anyways let's get into it

Arena-Actually, lemme separate them into categories cause can you REALLY compare them all equally given how different they are

The Eldest of Scrolls

Arena: Probably the only one of the old-school games I actually finished. Big ol dungeon crawler. Magic goes boom. Hard to really "hate" the game cause I don't feel too strongly about it which is funny cause it's technically the first TES game I played (I waited a month for Oblivion to arrive in the mail)

Daggerfall: Never finished it. As I understand, though, it's Arena but More. I think this is one I'd have stronger feelings about had i actually stuck to playing it till the end

Battlespire: Arena but More but Without the Extra Roleplay. Probably more polarizing but again, barely got an hour or so in lol

Dawnstar/Shadowkey/Stormhold: Never played, but want to (especially Shadowkey) I hear they're all full of jank tho so who knows if i'd enjoy it

The Modern Scrolls

Redguard: Never played.

Morrowind: Played a full game and got through half of another, but given how hogwild I go with the modern TES games it doesn't feel like it's enough to deserve that "Worlds Biggest Hater" energy from me. I do think the "combat sucks" thing is overblown, though. Not saying it's perfect but maybe y'all are too used to the actionized games and/or using the wrong weapon for your skillset. Do not like how easy it is to get lost cause if you don't have Mark/Recall or an Intervention spell you can't just jump to a familiar location.

Oblivion: In short, it's the first TES game I truly played. So I love it for that but also hate it for its shitass levelling and whitewashing of lore/the Empire in more ways than one. I love it more now because of how streamlined Skyrim is. I hate it more now cause it was definitely a low point for Bethesda's worldbuilding. LOVE the CC and I remember spending over an hour creating my first character then immediately rerolling cause oops I overdid it. It's my problematic fave

Skyrim: Love the OCs and the adventures I made for it. Hate the fandom it grew. Love the art direction in comparison to Oblivion. Hate the "gritty" filter put over it. Hate its shitass writing and quests. Love the addition of skill trees but hate their implementation. Absolutely LOATHE the downgrade to magic (idc if it's "story integration" it still sucks) Heavily dislike how little choice you get at CC as far as your skills go. 50/50 on the cosmetic side of CC cause on one hand you can't go ham on face creation but on the other you can change things like weight and nose/eye types but on the other other hand weight is just muscle mass unless you're using the fem body where it's SLIGHTLY thicker

Spinoff Scrolls 2: Finger on the Monkey's Paw Curls

Elder Scrolls Online: This one's...complicated just by virtue of being an MMO that's STILL updating. When I first played it, it was a breath of fresh air over the previous entries not just cause of different gameplay but because having multiple characters was an actual tangible thing in-game. I'm an OC whore okay. The story of the base game felt a LOT tighter, too, given it was actually linear. 'Course, the writing always felt really good or really bad and rarely was it in-between. Either way I got very, VERY invested in it in a way I knew I would never be able to experience again and I will never forget that. The CC is Phenomenal and easily the best one in any TES game so far. (Boob and ass slider? FOR MEN TOO???)

Lore also was hit or miss, with me being VERY appreciative of them touching things that Bethesda never bothered with if it wasn't for killing (i.e. types of food, clothing, toys, etc) but also while the lore team did consult with Bethesda there were and still are some glaring oversights that feel like they shouldn't have happened (especially earlier in the game's life) Given there's still some hiccups I'm guessing the Bethesda team doesn't actually consider it very important (makes sense, the main games also bend lore for the sake of gameplay/Todd's whims A LOT, just look at Oblivion lmao) I also love love love that they touch on the weirder topics, even if sometimes it's done in a way that feels too...on the nose? idk how to explain it

Recent ESO, though? Writing got more and more bland, with some standout sidequests. Lore still hit or miss so that's whatever. I stopped caring for the gameplay after...Orsinium?...when I gave up on relearning how to play with the regular changes to combat. Gave up trying to fit my OCs stories into the new content too, even with new characters (helps that they're not as developed lol) Still play out of habit but I defo think it fell off and this recent change to the yearly content doesn't seem to be helping but then I haven't touched new content since High Isle lmao

Legends: Seemed interesting but never played it much lmao, lore/story seems to follow ESO's example of being hit or miss from what I saw

Blades: It was okay I guess. Another game I developed a habit for then promptly dropped after I finished building and upgrading my town. It's a mobile game so idk what I expected, annoying ads begging for money abounded. I did all of it without paying a single cent on my Switch and it was a slog but I did it. Pretty meh about it tbh

Castles: Looks cute. Never played it and probably never will.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (February 7/2021) - End of Week

I hope you all are caught up on your Tom Gravy hotdog-eating Olympics lore.

Also, the server’s first attempt at a prison break...? I guess??

---

VOD LINKS:

HBomb94

Foolish Gamers

Tubbo

Ranboo

Nihachu

GeorgeNotFound

Captain Puffy

---

- HBomb explores the SMP mainland and looks at the L’manburg Crater, wondering if he should build a house there. He runs a poll and it’s 50/50.

- H runs back through the Nether. Sam asked him if he wanted to visit Dream at some point and H said yes.

- He discusses the possibilities of future catmaid bits. Would Sam let him be a prison maid?

- Foolish asks H for 16452 sandstone. Unfortunately, HBomb doesn’t have it.

- H gets filled in on all the SMP lore and figures out the ultimate truth:

Sapnap wrote the books in the Inbetween.

Sapnap can time travel.

Sapnap is the answer.

- H speaks with Foolish, and H mentions the gold bar labelled “HBomb’s maid service” that he got from Fundy...

- Foolish says he does need some sandstone...

- Dream logs on the server. He dies in lava and leaves.

- H tells Foolish the story of how he killed Technoblade 27 times, and asks if he knows about the obstacle course.

- H and Foolish meet near the Community House and Foolish is...surprised...by HBomb’s skin.

- Foolish brings HBomb to the Temple of Undying.

- Then they go to Snowchester. 

- Later, Foolish continues work on the Temple.

- Tubbo speaks with Scott Smajor.

- Ranboo goes mining while Tubbo makes a sandwich.

- Niki shows off her secret city. It’s been coming along well!

- Tubbo is just trying to get Ranboo DMCA’d at this point.

- Niki starts working on building the secret city some more.

- Niki’s character still deals with night terrors and isn’t sure what to feel about Wilbur. She sleeps in her own chamber and writes in a diary about what she’s going through.

- George has woken up!

- He comes onto the SMP after speedrunning and wonders what to do. He needs new supplies, because he has absolutely nothing now.

- He asks if Sapnap has his stuff, but Sapnap says no. He gave it all to Karl. George calls Karl. Karl can’t give his stuff back at the moment.

- Dream and Quackity fill him in on how Tom Brady got a home run and won a gold medal in the Olympics World Cup.

It begins.

-

--- THE FOOTBALL LORE ---

-

Gronk, Greg, and Tony Romo all pulled their weight as well. One got bronze in the Grand Prix. They also talk about how Tom Gravy’s been doing. There’s also Tony Gravy, who is Tom Gravy’s brother, but they mean to talk about Tony Romo and how many laps he finished.

The football stans took over the trending tab with their profile pics.

- Bad joins the call and they start filling him in on the Olympics. Bad mentions the Superb Owl.

- Tony Romo is the 11th time gold medalist of the Grand Prix who is going to retire soon to become an announcer for the Bikini Bottom competition. 

- Tom Gravy never dies. Well, he said that he might in a couple years, but by then he’ll have won several more medals. His goal is to eat 10,000 hot dogs by 2022. He burns off calories by running around the Grand Prix track. Tony Romo gives him all the advice.

- They have different maps for Tony Romo and Tom Gravy, one of which is in Russia. Change of scenery.

- Tony O’Brown got one of the goals and that was it, but the real dagger was by Patrick, who threw an interception. 

Tony Romo ran a red light in Alaska, having won the Grand Prix with 21 laps, and got a mugshot for it, but got a medal for Sexiest Mugshot so it wasn’t too bad. His goal is 22.

- They also have a pizza restaurant called Tom and Tony.

- Wait, Patrick got the mugshot gold medal for running the intersection. Tony Romo went to Russia.

- Gronk faked his retirement, then lied and showed up at the Olympics, won anyway and got a gold medal. He was pretending to train but he never actually trained. He took different videos with different shirts to pretend that he was training on different days.

- Gronk wanted it to be surprising when he won. Him and Tom Gravy were very good friends. They met before the first Olympics while training together.

- George asks if there’s a Wiki to learn all this lore from. Dream says there is, but it’s on the Dark Web.

- Though Patrick had the sexiest mugshot, there were plenty of others that weren’t so sexy.

- Tom Gravy is now trending.

- George has just been mining throughout all of this.

- Karl joins the conversation. Tony Romo retired because of the money but also because he had a kid, according to Quackity. 

- Taylor Swift named something after the number of hotdogs Tom Gravy had to eat daily last year, which was 22. They call him “The American Patriot” for all the hotdogs he eats, but this year he was more of a Pirate. 

- During the Olympics recess, Tom Gravy was sponsored by Hard Mikes. 

- Greg is in his flop area at the moment. He was a Patrick fan, actually, but then the whole incident happened with the intersection.

- Out of the last 20 Olympics, Tom Gravy’s won 7 and been to 10. This is the Hotdog-Eating Olympics, though, not the world Olympics. The Hotdog-Eating Olympics happens at the rate that the Grand Prix happens divided by 2.

- There was a cheating scandal where he was accused of inflating his stomach. “Inflate-Gate.” 

- Tom Gravy ate 200 hotdogs in 12 seconds, which is called a “Scarf Ace” in the contest.

-

--- THE FOOTBALL LORE IS OVER ---

-

- Foolish gives George Netherite.

- Ponk attempts to kill George. George escapes to the Holy Land.

- Bad points out that because the enforcer of the Holy Land’s neutrality rules is in the prison, they’re free to kill Ponk. Dream says no, they’ll get punished if they do. He also asks why there’s a turtle in the Holy Land, and asks to delete it.

Callahan, Bad and Foolish all come join them in Church Prime.

- Ponk steals Oogway and a fistfight breaks out. Captain Puffy arrives.

- George tricks Puffy into killing him in Church Prime. Dream says that George’s stream was conveniently blacked out for some reason. They start talking about pictures.

- Callahan kills George in the Holy Land. Dream says it was blacked out again.

- Ponk kills George in the Holy Land. Dream saw that one and Ponk falls out of the world.

- Dream finally reveals the truth behind the old Bedwars clip after several months of mystery.

(It was porn)

- One thing leads to another, Dream drops some glass water bottles and sings “Mad World” in the background after being rejected by George for Valentine’s Day.

- They start leaking Rat pics.

- George is preoccupied and doesn’t notice as Ponk boxes him in with obsidian. Puffy arrives to help him out.

- Foolish shows George his summer house and gives him supplies.

- Quackity tries to insist that he’s not a competitive hotdog eater, but everyone already knows the truth.

- Karl comes online and gives George the Netherite.

- The chaos continues as they pass it back and forth. Callahan joins in.

- George goes to the prison and tries to break in. GEORGE LORE STREAM?? NOT CLICKBAIT??

- He finds a very secret and important area. 

- (It’s a lightswitch)

- George starts breaking a blackstone block in the wall to rescue Dream. 

- Dream tells George to keep trying to break him out, saying it’s been long enough. Karl says that, in his very canonical opinion, it has not, in fact, been long enough yet. 

- Dream warns George that he actually has to hurry, in case Awesam logs on.

- George sits there mining for a good few minutes. One block between Dream and freedom! Callahan comes to watch.

- He finally breaks the block!

...

...

- Aaaand behind it is obsidian. 

- George immediately ends stream.

---

Later, Awesam places the single block back...

...And threatens to take all of George’s canon lives if he ever messes with the prison again.

---

Upcoming Events:

- Many, many visits with Dream

- Many meetings with Technoblade, with Puffy’s specifically happening very soon

- Prison guard introduction stream this week

---

END OF WEEK RECAP:

2/1: Ponk’s dream, Ranboo speaks with Awesam

2/2: Ponk reads Jack’s Journal, Tommy takes a piece of the Crimson, Awesam and Fran

2/3: Puffy attempts to destroy the Crimson, Tales From the SMP: “The Masquerade”

2/4: Nothing much happens

2/5: Jack Manifold becomes the main character

2/6: Puffy searches for parrots

2/7: The 5-Hour Tom Gravy Stream

[recentanimenews]

Mystery Box of Misery Volume 1: Boy Meets Misery

They're the Part 2 of 3 you receive when both bookends are out of print. They’re the discs marked down to $1 during clearance and holiday sales. They're fodder for Ani-Gamers’ new Mystery Box of Misery column, which will appear monthly with three short, context-free reviews of as many blind-box items. Want to join in on the fun? Ani-Gamers Patreon supporters vote via poll to determine who reviews which title. Join us!

Tenchi in Tokyo (Episodes 1–4)

The last time I watched any Tenchi Muyo, I was probably about 12 years old and tuning into Toonami, where multiple versions of the harem franchise aired in English. I don’t think I understood the appeal at the time. ”One guy living with a bunch of anime girls? Who would want that?!” I dreaded watching this DVD nearly as much as our podcast editor, Patrick, relished the fact that I had to watch it.

Thus it brings me no pleasure to report that I enjoyed watching these four episodes. I expected offensive amounts of fanservice, but what I got was a surprisingly funny action-comedy about a bunch of goofy, obnoxious girls and the incredibly dull boy they like for some reason. That’s the trick to a decent harem anime; the girls are the stars of the show, so they’d better have as much personality as the writers can pack into each scene. In the spirit of the column, I didn’t do any research on this so who knows how this plays into Tenchi lore. I just enjoyed watching a few extremely silly comedy vignettes.

Since you’re all going to ask for the best girl: I vaguely remember thinking Washu was cool, and this watch confirms my suspicions. She’s the only one of the main girls who isn’t constantly fawning over Tenchi. Also she’s a mad scientist and mischievous shithead, so thumbs up from me.

Appleseed (2004)

This is one I’ve actually seen before! Thanks to the Mystery Box of Misery, however, I can now replace my basic Appleseed DVD with a nice steelbook … though I’m still not exactly the biggest fan of this movie.

The 2004 Appleseed movie (not to be confused with the 1988 OVA) was patient zero for Shinji Aramaki’s slate of all-CG productions, which now include the likes of Captain Harlock, Ultraman, and Ghost in the Shell. Like most of his modern work, the movie is a mixed bag both in terms of animation and storytelling. Time has not been kind to the 3-D animation, which was impressive in 2004 but now looks like a floaty video game cutscene. I’ve always found its mix of toon shaders and reflective surfaces interesting. By contrast, modern CG anime often goes all-in on toon shaders. Unfortunately Appleseed’s half-anime/half-realistic style only gels in a handful of scenes. The story is overburdened with exposition, talking-head dialogue, and Oshii-esque philosophizing, but some of the more intimate character scenes work nicely. That’s because they’re the few times when Aramaki puts down his fancy new CG toys and shoots a scene conservatively.

Despite all that, the action scenes are fun and well-paced, and most importantly: Deunan Knute and her cyborg boyfriend Briareos make a cute couple. I actually had a good time with this one too.

The Melody of Oblivion Episodes 17–20

Maybe you’ve heard of this show? Perhaps you’ve heard of one particular scene?

In a bit of good luck for me and bad luck for whoever tried to ruin my day by voting for this show, I missed the infamous cowgirl milking scene by two episodes. That didn’t spare me, however, the experience of watching four episodes of The Melody of Oblivion.

I cannot tell you what this show is about. There are a bunch of kids who shoot arrows and ride motorcycles that are also horses that are also robots that are also boys. The villains are part of the Monster Union (presumably not the good kind of union) and have names like Sir Child Dragon and Millionaire Beaver. I have to assume these things make some amount of sense when you’re not airdropped into the last half of the story.

The only thing I remotely appreciate is a strained romantic subplot between the main boy and girl characters. Any goodwill from that is, of course, blown away by the show’s creepy fanservice. When boys shoot arrows, we get a montage of revving engines on horse-robot-bikes. When girls do it, the rebound bumps into their boobs and makes them cry out in a faux-orgasm. Truly, this is the kind of show this column was made for.

That’s it for the inaugural entry in the Mystery Box of Misery. Tune in next month for more. And patrons, keep an eye on your inbox for the next round of voting, when Ani-Gamers Podcast editor Patrick Sutton will subject himself to your DVD choices!

Boy Meets Misery originally appeared on Ani-Gamers on November 14, 2020 at 12:02 AM.

By: Evan Minto

[loveiscosmicsin]

5. "You're burning up" - Ignoct

Hurt/Comfort Prompt Meme

You can check this out, too, if you want. Just pics of my dumb drafts I wouldn’t post in my fics: https://mobile.twitter.com/loveiscosmicsin/status/827227422009364480

-

An AU that features Oracle of Futurity Noctis Lucis Caelum, Crown Prince of Lucis and Ignis Scientia, Royal Retainer and “Blind Seer” to the Princess and King of Light Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae. Fate Swap. Loosely follows canon. How IgNoct would’ve been under these circumstances had Ignis grown up in Tenebrae as Luna’s best friend. Not genderbending the characters, the roles have been masculine and feminine respectably in the lore until the roles were reversed in the current generation. Sorry if you get confused.

@letshareapapou was kind enough to write this fic with me Radiance is also on Ao3

-

5. “You’re burning up.” – IgNoct

“It’s been some while. Do you remember the last time you saw Prince Noctis?”

Luna glanced away from the scenic view of the window to address the traveling companion sitting across from her. “It’s been twelve years.” When her companion didn’t react to the given answer, she added, “Though he had stayed in Tenebrae for only two weeks, we’ve remained in contact after that time.”

“This will be our first time going into the Crown City.” Ignis inclined his head, registering information he already was aware of. “He’ll expect to see a fine young lady.”

The lady in question let out an astonished gasp. “Ignis! Have I not achieved outstanding ovation for my maidenhood? Am I not the paragon in both etiquette and citizenship surpassing all expectations?”

“Ah, yes,” Ignis stroked at his chin, unaffected by Luna’s protests. “How could I forget the polls unanimously declaring you a winner in all fields…” He fixed the young woman with what Luna defined as a cheeky remark, “All from publications that target adolescent girls and mature women, I may add.”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. Ignis’ attack was uninvited and she mentally chastised herself for falling in a trap. “And just what is it that you’re implying? What do you know that I don’t?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have time for all that.”

“Oh you!” Luna kicked at Ignis’ shoe in a huff.

Ignis chuckled, “Fine display of refined behavior, indeed, Lady Lunafreya.”

The anointed King of Light and Princess Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae and Royal Retainer to the Crown Ignis Scientia were well on their way to Lucis. The King’s elder brother, Ravus, was able to secure safe passage via train. He had his qualms about letting his sister go off alone, but couldn’t compromise a peaceful visit with armed guards so he allowed her retainer to accompany her. For additional insurance for the lord commander’s conscience, he had asked for the two travelers to don on the ceremonial robes so they could blend in with the crowd of pilgrims arriving to the Citadel. There was an ongoing festival and many from all parts of Eos came to receive the Oracle’s blessing as well as experience Lucis’ hospitality. The conditions were fair and they agreed to return once they concluded their mission. After all, Tenebrae achieved some autonomy because of the King of Light’s emergence and contesting on her people’s behalf.  

Ignis was two years Luna’s junior, and had been in service to House Fleuret ever since he was a young boy. His brilliance and stoicism provided a contrast to the passionate and often, rebellious princess. They were polar opposites yet while Luna wasn’t as demure as she appeared before others, Ignis had a mischievous side to him, they developed an unbreakable bond.

Not only was Ignis her retainer, he was also her childhood friend. Ignis was expected to serve the future Queen of Tenebrae and was nearly removed from service when he lost his vision twelve years ago, the very day Niflheim set their beloved homeland ablaze. The Empire and remnants of the Tenebraen government didn’t hesitate with what to do with the vulnerable chamberlain-to-be. At that moment and before the new regime, the princess and future King of Light-to-be vetoed the forced resignation and asked Ignis to remain at her side until the day he died. Ignis accepted and he overcame his disability, his devotion rang louder than the hindrances along the way. He rose as advisor to the crown princess.

Luna breathed out softly and leaned back, glancing out the window, lips pursed as she drummed her fingers on the table.

“A gil for your thoughts?”

“What if… What if he’s disappointed?” She spoke in a whisper. It was a question she desperately wanted the answer to but at the same time, shield her ears to avoid it. It had been years, they were children then, expectations low and the cherished moments seemed to stretch out for eternity. The world seemed as open as the sylleblossom field that they had played in. But that was no longer, Noctis had grown into an amazing Oracle, renowned and bright as the stars in the night sky and Luna was… simply exhibited about as Niflheim’s priceless centerpiece and lauded as a celebrity in the tabloids.

“Luna.” She blinked back to Ignis, his gloved hand extended to hers, eyes set forward though there was nothing he could see in them. She gave a small smile and placed her own hand over his. He leaned in and kiss her knuckles gently. “You are a beautiful and extraordinary young woman. You need to give yourself more credit. Pay no heed about what the Oracle might think.” Ignis sighed, squeezing her fingers. “Remember that you must also be wary. Boys grow up into—”

“Men?” Luna interjected.

“Beasts with a ravenous hunger at even the sliver of exposed flesh. Oracle or not, the prince is still a man.”

Luna laughed softly. Her advisor never had the pleasure of meeting Noctis. He didn’t hold a favorable opinion of men who Luna showed the slightest interest over. Had Ignis succumbed to this ravenous hunger since he was also a man? Never once had she witnessed such crude behavior.

“I find your distaste of Noctis silly, Ignis. He’s been nothing but kind to me. He’s a very good friend.” She laughed outright at Ignis’ sneer, “Besides you, of course.”

“As it should be,” he said haughtily as he released Luna. “I’ve been at your side for nearly my whole life. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

The princess smiled to herself. Ignis was rarely so outright rude but when it came to the Oracle he was always a bit adversarial, at least when it was just the two of them. Luna sensed a bit of jealousy, but overall concern at how she would be received.

She knew he only wanted what was best for her, and that thought was comforting as Lucis came into view.

-

“My word, that was an experience we’ve endured.” The Crown Advisor panted as he and his lady boarded the elevator. Normally, he could walk around without his walking cane with ease, but as it was his first time in Insomnia, he had to rely on it. The princess filed no complaints about the pace nor did she walk ahead of him, simply stood at his side. “Next time, perhaps we should consult a map. That errand left us chasing after our own tails.”

“But didn’t it feel nice to help?” Luna chided gently as the doors closed with a whoosh, and the floor under them shifted upward. “Those chocochicks were devastatingly precious especially the one that mistook your hair as a nest.” She made no attempt to conceal her jovial laughter, much to the advisor’s chagrin.

“Yes…” Ignis swore that he could smell the unpleasant musk of the foul fowl that had catapulted itself at him. It took a handler several minutes to dislodge the chick’s claws without ripping out his hair. That quest was a story he rather not take home to Tenebrae and he would appreciate it that Luna did the same. Unfortunately, knowing the good lady like the back of his hand, she most likely wouldn’t let the ordeal go unheard. “Altruism is all well and good, but Lucians are a peculiar lot. You could only go so far on the kindness of strangers.”

“It was fortunate that we were able to help those people. The petting zoo attraction would’ve been short of animals to exhibit. The children would’ve been devastated.”

Ignis hummed at this. Luna, a woman of class and virtue, had always offered a hand. No task was never beneath her and as her advisor, it warmed his heart to witness generosity even if it led to unexpected adventures. The lord commander’s concerns were unfounded, the two companions’ identities went unrecognized and thus, it made their explorations unrestained. He had a hunch that getting out of the city would be uneventful as it was getting in unless those chocobo wranglers or other venders found themselves in assistance, Luna could never say no. It would be a hassle if reporters caught wind of Lady Lunafreya’s whereabouts and her business in the Citadel.

It was fortunate that his dear friend didn’t insist on taking one of the birds home, he would’ve enabled her and poor Umbra and Pryna would have had competed for Luna’s divided attention.

“At the price of missing the Oracle’s speech.” He turned to the young woman, the endpoint of his cane scraping the carpet beneath them. “By the by, how are you faring, Luna?”

“I’m… all right,” Luna answered though the lack of cheer in her voice was disconcerting. “We missed the speech. They’re bound to replay it as the festival goes on, but we’ll finally be able to meet with him soon.”

The two friends were silent after that. The music, banter, and sound effects from the festivities were distant the longer they rode on the elevator. All Ignis could detect is his companion shift from one foot to another, her clothes rustling, restless.

“You seem a little on edge.” Ignis observed. There was little that slipped past the advisor’s intuition.

“Not at all,” Luna denied as the rustling grew louder and her voice quaked. “It’s unbelievable the people could wear these garbs during a sweltering summer’s day here. You insisted that I keep my hood up at all times.”

Ignis still wasn’t convinced. His lady would never bring up meager excuses, not when she had something to hide. “I haven’t felt you this tense since we stumbled in that cave full of tonberries.”

“You fell into that nightmare, Ignis, and I rescued you.” The royal scion sniped, sounding crossed.

“Oh. Yes. I was attracted to the glint of their blades and I assumed that they were interested in a culinary match.” Ignis laughed to himself. Light was the only thing his eyes could detect and in his curiosity, he made contact with daemons. He and Luna made quick work of them and retreated when the horde arrived.

“I can’t believe I’m finally going to see Noctis, Ignis.” Had Ignis continued musing over a fond memory, Luna’s words wouldn’t have broke his thoughts. “This notebook we exchanged… means the world to me.”

“What brought this up…?”

“I thought over what you said. About you being there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. Does it seem silly that I haven’t done the same for Noctis? I mean, Umbra and Pryna have more physical contact with him than I do.” She paused, her throat constricted the rest of her words, “Maybe I’ve been insincere or dishonest to him… Or has he been withholding something from me?”

“Luna,” Ignis stopped her, holding out his hand. “Hand me the notebook, if you will.”

The advisor ran his fingers over the hardcover, tracing the smooth designs embellished on it. He never been privy to what the King of Light and the Oracle wrote in it and even if he was, it was never his place to ask about the contents. When Luna wrote to Noctis that she would be embarking a trip to see him in Insomnia, the cur had the audacity to write “Got it” in response. Luna’s heartfelt words, paragraphs she had requested Ignis to listen as she read them aloud and two words were all Prince Noctis wrote. She found it amusing, but the advisor didn’t take kindly to it.

“I’m confiscating this.”

“I do not under—”

Ignis waved the book lightly. “It’s in the past. Your future’s ahead.” He motioned above them before pocketing the book in his vest. It weighed heavy for such a slim memento.

Luna’s eyes were on him, he could sense her soft stare. Surely, she wasn’t plotting to overpower him to retrieve the book back, was she? “Why, Ignis, are you telling me I can’t learn anything from a book?” She teased further with a jest, “That would be refreshing hearing that from you for once.”

“Rereading pages from the same chapter won’t get you to the next.” He said softly, feeling an ache in his chest at the words. “This simply isn’t an exam you could cram for like you have in the past, Highness.”

It wasn’t jealousy, not exactly, but there was a vise over his ribs. Noctis was the Oracle, this fact couldn’t be denied, but under that authority, he was still just a man. What if he didn’t live up to Luna’s impressive commendations whenever she spoke of him? Ignis wouldn’t allow her to be hurt, never again. The fires of Tenebrae had been nothing, he would take out Ifrit himself if it would procure Luna’s happiness.

Everyone knew of the legend, a woman, blood of the Oracle from the Nox Fleuret nobility and a man, the King of Light, born into the Lucis Caelum dynasty, were chosen by the divine to safeguard the natural balance of the world. Together, the Oracle and King were to vanquish the Starscourge, it was their calling to fulfill, it had always been a woman who was the Oracle and a man who was the King. But then a phenomena occurred, the roles switched when Lunafreya and Noctis were born. History witnessed the first woman accept her calling as the King of Light while a man ascended to deliver holy testaments as the Oracle of mankind. Ignis was uncertain of what trials Luna had endured or what the future would hold for her. If Ravus’ training sessions were any indicator, then Luna would encounter conflict and grand battles. Ignis wouldn’t falter nor would he fear for Luna’s side was his place until the very end. But now wasn’t the time for fighting.

Today was an important day. Luna had longed to see Noctis and the desire went beyond a shared sense of duty.

The elevator came to a full stop, a bell jingled and the doors parted with a sharp whish. Ignis stepped first and Luna’s heels clicked after him before she touched his arm. A melodious and airy voice greeted them.

“It is heartening to see the King of the Stone once more. A sentiment that I do not enjoy alone.”

“Gentiana.” Luna was elated, her hand on Ignis’ arm trembled slightly as though uncertain of how to react to the welcome. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Blessed be.” She dipped low for a bow.

“Gentiana?” Ignis asked, tilting his head to how the King performed that bow, practically a bounce in her step.

“Gentiana’s a Messenger,” Luna informed the advisor. “A spirit faithful to the Oracle. She had accompanied King Regis and Prince Noctis to Tenebrae.”

“You are the blind seer,” Gentiana spoke out. “The stars have aligned for our fortuitous meeting, my prayers answered. Blessed be.”

“I wouldn’t call myself a seer…” Ignis was skeptical about this fabled guardian and how she held knowledge of him. Predictions of the political affairs held no water for what concerned his lady the most. “Blessed be, Messenger.” He returned the greeting with a bow.

“I apologize, the Oracle couldn’t be here to greet you formally. He has many duties to tend to after the ceremony. I stand here in his stead until he able to break free from them.”

Luna’s fingers anxiously tightened on Ignis. “Oh, of course! Today is very important. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Noctis.” She agreed, however, Ignis was seething inside.

How far they had traveled? How long had Luna waited for this moment? Did she mean that little, to be shoved aside this way? The Oracle was given a two-week’s notice of their arrival and he couldn’t prepare accordingly. Ignis squeezed a fist and did well to conceal it at his side. Unbelievable.

“Shall we retire to lounge? I have arranged tea and… coffee can also prepared if the drink is not to the seer’s liking.” Ignis flushed, he’d never been one for tea, piqued at having been outed so easy. He wondered how much the Messenger knew of him.

Luna giggled, “That sounds lovely, thank you.”

“This way then, my King.” Gentiana voice was soft and bell-like, echoing sweetly down the long hall.

Ignis couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed as he followed Luna’s gentle motions and words, the heat dying out of him like ice on a flame, her joy was almost palpable.

“How have the years treated you, Gentiana?” Luna initiated a conversation after the Messenger dispensed the beverages and tea cakes. “You look as lovely as ever.”

The Messenger hummed thoughtfully. “As of now, trying times are at a standstill, O King, but the Oracle has yet to reach his full potential. For the first time in many cycles, my liege may live a long and joyous life. I am very content witnessing his growth.”

Luna sniffled and behind a wobbly words, “I’m so happy to hear that, for you and Noctis.”

“Sweet girl, may I sing my praises that you have bloomed into a brilliant flower after all these years? You were but a bud facing towards the sun. I am enraptured by your presence today, a kingly aura like petals glistening and flourishing after the rain.”

Ignis nearly choked on a pastry, feeling like he was in the middle of some very heated flirting. Luna wasn’t faring much better, she was probably just as red.

“Oh-ah-um, thank you!” She said quickly, voice high and flustered. Ignis decided he liked the Messenger after that.

The royal retainer rose from his seat and the act didn’t go unnoticed by Luna.

“Where are you going?”

“I need to visit the loo,” Ignis retrieved his cane before directing a question to Gentiana. “Where may I find it?”

“The bathrooms are two doors down the hall on your right. You will pass the water fountain on the left, then the men’s room is on the right.”

“Thank you.”

“Maybe I should go with you…” Luna suggested.

Ignis shook his head. “You shouldn’t concern yourself. The directions were clear and concise.”

“All right…”

The advisor smiled. “I’ll return shortly.”

After Ignis’ visit to the toilet, he took his time exploring his surroundings. He was never one for staying in one place for long and though Luna would never accuse him of this, Ignis felt that he was encroaching on an intimate reunion. Luna never had close friends who were women, a cloistered lifestyle enforced by the Empire no doubt had a hand in the King’s interactions. She had earned this.

The advisor followed the rhythmic orchestra of water crashing into a pool from the fountain. He went close enough to feel the drops spray his face before backing away. Stretching out a hand, he felt the walls, stopping at coiled metal mounted on it. There was an intricate appeal that Ignis appreciated in the ornate swirls and twirls. He realized that it was a frame. As to what, Ignis sought the answer as he continued investigating.

Layers of paint cleverly collected on the canvas left a distinctive style in each brushstroke. It was an oil painting, but of what Ignis cannot distinguish. Even as he caressed the image, detect the techniques used, and find no flaw to distract him from his inquiry, the mystery remains such. Then he discovered a blemish, definitely not something the artist had intended. It felt like a scorch mark, a hole left in the painting. Almost small enough to go unnoticed, but someone deliberately made an effort to conceal it by plastering more paint on it.

“Who could’ve done such a thing?” He asked himself.

“Are you lost?”

Ignis dropped his hand immediately. He didn’t anticipate that there was an audience or a bystander. He would’ve heard the intruder’s footsteps approach. How careless he was for pondering over a mere painting. But then again, the advisor was the intruder, a permitted guest who was simply immersed into details.

Being caught in his zealous affection for the arts wasn’t what made Ignis’ heart stop. It was the voice of the speaker. Many times had Ignis observed Luna falling upon every word articulated from the public broadcasts, nearly dropping whatever she was doing at the time to listen and deliver her own prayers. There was no denying that those three words belonged to Oracle and Crown Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum.

Ignis blinked on instinct at the voice, it was low and intimate, passing at him gently like the summer breeze. He closed his eyes and breathed out, it was more beautiful next to his ear than through a radio or a television, the static running it thin. In person it sounded light and airy, curling around him gently and encompassing him in an embrace before teasingly fleeting from reach.

Ignis hated himself for wanting to hear more of it. He let his hand trace over the edge of the painting before dropping it slowly. “Not lost in that sense. I was merely enjoying the piece. The artist showed great care in crafting it.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Though someone left a mark on it. Most curious.” He continued as he stroked at his chin, puzzled. “It couldn’t been of the artist’s doing.”

“The Oracle did it,” the other man replied. “Maybe he thought could make a statement shortly after its completion. If someone didn’t come to put the fire out, that painting would be more than a little singed.” With mock exasperation, he passed over his own woven speculations. “He had his attendant cover it up pretty good or so he thought. Well, I won’t be the bearer of bad news that someone spotted it.”

Ignis wasn’t certain what scheme the man was cooking up or why he was referring to himself as a third party, but he’d play along for now. Contrary to his words, Noctis didn’t sound upset at all about the incident. What compelled him to commit vandalism? “A pity that he held a unfavorable viewpoint. It’s a marvelous painting.”

“You think so? Well, that’s the Oracle you’re touching.”

“My word! You can’t be serious!”

“Dead serious. Closest you’ve come to touching the real deal. The nose’s way off though.”

The Prince Oracle’s laugh was playful, Ignis felt his ears heat. Of course, the palace was where the Oracle resided, most of the paintings were probably of him. Ignis felt like a fool. To be caught stroking a depiction of the Good Lord, Shiva preserve him for his folly.

“Guess he’s pretty marvelous, huh?” The Crown Prince hummed, his voice a bit closer than where he last stood. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you don’t reveal that mark to anyone.”

Ignis turned to him, readily expecting a gasp at his unsightly scars, a normal response from new acquaintances. Instead a hand slid over his face. Astonished, Ignis turned away from the touch, his own hand flew up to seize the offending appendage, fingers curling tight around a wrist. Does this man not have no gauge of personal space?

“Sorry, that was rude,” Noctis apologized. “Should’ve told you I was going to touch them.”

“You should’ve asked instead.” Ignis growled, feeling out of his element before being entrenched in a cold wave. He was touching the Oracle, one of the most paramount figures of Eos. His office, body, and vestments were considered holy. He was also a prince, Ignis was a mere servant. He quickly released the wrist.

“My sincere apologies, I shouldn’t have done that.” Ignis said lowly and shakily reached up to adjust his glasses in attempt to free himself of his worn nerves, his body tense at the invasion. He expected the Prince Oracle would have his head for this and report to Lady Lunafreya to administer the appropriate punishment. His fate was sealed.

To his surprise he heard a snort. “Done what? Defend yourself? You got fast reflexes.” The last words sounded like he was praising Ignis.

“I’ve had time to adjust.” Ignis replied coolly.

The Oracle chuckled. “I suppose you have… Can we try this again?” The voice questioned, it was barely above a whisper and wounded tightly. Ignis sighed in disbelief, but nodded mutely. Consent was given. This time, the hands caressed his cheekbones and paused. “Can I remove your glasses?”

“Do what you wish.” He said pointedly. He should be bowing to the Oracle’s whim, but the last few minutes left him with him tense. Ignis never liked being touched there. He still had nightmares of the healers trying to preserve his life. The tonics they used left him in perpetual agony. Fingers teased over the rims and they were oh, so gently pulled away.

Ignis swallowed at the feeling of his last barrier being removed. Soft pads edged over the cut on his right brow then fluttered towards the worse of the damage: his left eye. Ignis flinched and the movement halted. There was a warm breath on his face.

“Shh, it’s okay.”

Ignis wanted to scoff and say something scathing in return but he couldn’t. He felt himself lean into the touch. Just why was he letting the Oracle have his way?

“There you are, Ignis!” Luna called out as she scurried towards the men, another set of heels followed at a more languid pace. “Gentiana and I were worried and—” The woman gasped. “Noctis, it’s you!”

“Your lordship is right welcome back to Palace Caelum.” The Messenger’s gratuitous greetings reverberated the room. “You humble us with your presence.”

And just like that the spell that the Oracle held over the advisor broke as the former lowered his hands.

“Thanks, Gentiana,” Noctis said. “Glad to be home in one piece. Sorry, I took so long, Luna.”

“No, that’s all right. I knew you were busy and… You must be exhausted.”

“Not exhausted to see you.” Noctis replied as metals clinked together. “I trust Gentiana kept you company while I was away.”

“Yes, she’s been a gracious host.” Luna paused before realizing her place. “Oh! Ignis, this is Noctis. Noctis, Ignis is my most cherished friend and advisor.”

Ignis bore in mind that Luna was watching and gave the Oracle a respectable bow. “It is an honor to meet your acquaintance, Your Highness.”

“And I liked it better when you were pretending to not know who I was.” Prince Noctis joked as he tapped the advisor’s shoulder with his fist.

“Ig-Ignis!” Luna gasped.

Ignis straightened his back, meeting the confident voice with a tilt of his head. “And who’s to say that you weren’t doing the exact thing?”

“Noctis!” Luna scolded. “How could you not introduce yourselves? That’s so rude!”

“Sorry Luna, Specs and I were just teasing.” Noctis laughed.

Ignis mouthed the new nickname to himself with a scowl.

Luna must have saw because her voice came out playful instead of trying. “Of course, boys will be boys after all.” Ignis felt his hair raise at the words.

“Oh yeah, speaking of Specs, here.” Prince Noctis voice was warm as he reached slowly and curled his fingers around Ignis’ forearm. Ignis felt something light placed in his palm. He blinked and made a low sound of embarrassment before placing the glasses back on his nose. “I’d put them back on for you but I feel like I’d get a fist to my face if I tried.”

Ignis hummed thoughtfully, “Capital idea.”

Luna made an annoyed sound. “You two, really.”

There was a sound of bells, clothes rustling over skin before a voice spoke.“It is growing late. Shall I show Lady Lunafreya and the lord seer to their rooms for the evening so you may recuperate?”

“Mmm, I’d like to do something else tonight.”

Ignis blinked, for once out of the loop as the conversation turned.

“That would be ill-advised, my liege,” the Messenger gravely implored.

“Noctis, you’ve had such a long day…” Luna said softly.

Noctis sighed, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Luna, you’ve traveled a long way and waited so long. I think I should start as soon as possible to grant your request.”

Ignis stood quietly. Request? His stomach churned. He moved, gesturing for Luna. A familiar hand curled in his and squeezed firmly. He stared in her direction.

“I was unaware you requested something of the Oracle… Are you all right?” He wanted his words to be light but his voice came out a bit strained. Was she afflicted with the Starscourge? How had he missed Luna’s illness? Had it been long? Was she in pain?

“Oh… Oh! Ignis, no!” A forehead was placed against his. “I’m okay!”

The advisor felt the tension he planned to unleash dissipate. He sagged against her. “Thank the Six.” He breathed.

“You honestly jump to such horrible conclusions, Ignis.”

“It’s my sworn duty.” He said dryly, feeling his charge chuckle. The corners of his lips twitched upwards.

“Your sworn nature.” Luna pulled away, squeezing his hands. “The request… was about you.”

Ignis froze. “About me?”

“Luna told me you lost your sight a long time ago,” the Prince Oracle explained. “She asked if she could bring you here for healing.”

Something broke inside Ignis. It clicked as to why Luna was so adamant pleading Ravus to allow Ignis to accompany her. The lord commander probably had a handmaiden in mind given that it was considered improper for people of the opposite sex to be alone together, no matter what the nature of their relationship was. Ignis always had followed the orders given to him. Perhaps Ravus had shared the same sentiments of male and female relationships and rather not leave his sister alone with the Oracle. While Luna made this entire about meeting a distant pen pal, she had been thinking about Ignis the entire time.

“Lady Lunafreya,” the advisor swallowed a lump lodged in his throats as he lowered his head. He suddenly felt like the wounded little boy with bandages draped over his face, begging not to be sent away from the court long ago. “Am I in the way?”

“What? No, of course not. How could you ask me that?”

Then there was the girl, just two years older than he, who stood in his defense, declaring that she would claim full responsibility for the boy though she was asserted that he was his own person first. She had nothing left, the jewels of her crown forcibly removed and no standing to demand anything of her oppressors. To demand the servitude of a mere chamberlain was a reckless and foolish gesture.  

“Because I…”

The retainer was a sniveling boy then, fearful of the unknown variables of the future if he was removed from Luna’s side. Ignis owed his life to her. It didn’t take long after the accident for him to realize that he was a burden. The rebellious princess had fled the Fenestala Manor many times and Ravus publicly humiliated her before the imperial captors. When Ignis was ordered to apply salves to the welts and angry scores on her back, the girl didn’t cry once. Ignis decided he had to be better in order to serve Luna, as her equal, in fulfilling her destiny and seeing their homeland liberated. Together, they had the will and they were far from powerless.

Luna brought Ignis into her embrace, swaying slightly as she rested her chin on his shoulder. The advisor returned the motion almost mechanically. “Ignis, you have been my pillar of strength. We were apart when Tenebrae burned, but when the flames were extinguished, a greater menace became our reality. You stood by me, let me lay my burdens on your back, but never gave me any in return. For every complaint and worry I had, you listened without fail.” Luna pulled back to take him my the shoulders. “There’s no else I would rather have by my side.”

“Luna, that’s hardly true—” Ignis argued.

“Remember the goblins?” Luna interjected.

“As you would let me forget even if I tried.” Ignis winced. Reminiscing about the past was almost an guarantee that it would lead to who saved who first and why. The advisor and the princess had plenty adventures when they were younger. Most of those exploits having to do with encountering monsters. Never a dull moment at the Tenebraen princess’s side. They encountered more creatures than a princess and advisor should.  

“I may had joked that I saved you, but I chose to go in that cave.” Luna’s voice turned a bit whimsical, “I’d stumbled upon an old wives’ tale about a beautiful creature who could recreate any sound in this world. Said creature could be found in that cave.”

“You wanted to hear your mother’s voice again.” Ignis said gently, remembering.

“Yes, it was reckless—”

“You were a child.”

“Yes, but I knew the cave was no place for children. You tried to stop me but I insisted, and you… You came with me. You held my hand, shielded me from the goblins, spoke to me softly as I wept and we came out of there alive. You saved me. I was wrong and put us at risk, but you always came to my rescue.”

“I only wanted you to be happy.”

“I know, and that’s why I asked this of Noctis. I know you’re not sad or alone, but with this you could be so much more. You guided me through that darkness. Now let me do the same for you.”

“It’s like what I told Luna,” the Oracle interrupted, his tone serious. “I can heal you but it has to be on your own terms. Nobody’s forcing you to choose.”

“Y-yes…” Luna stammered. “Please don’t see this as an order. If you refuse, then I won’t stop you. I only wish to help as your friend…”

“There’s no need to explain yourself, Luna. I know you have good intentions.” Ignis smiled before turning to Noctis. “Can it be done? Could you heal my sight?” He shook his head. “The healers said nothing could be done for me and it’s been many years…”

“I knew the moment I touched your face that it can be done.”

“You knew immediately? That’s impressive.”

“Well, I’ve had a very good teacher. Gentiana knows her stuff for sure.”  Noctis laughed off the compliment, sounding a bit embarrassed by it. “Still got a long way to go.”

“I am merely a guide, my dear Oracle, nothing more. What you have done, it was but with your own hands.” She replied, sounding proud and aloof all at once.

Prince Noctis made a sound. “Gen, you’re too modest.”  

“A trait I fear I’ve imbued in you.” She countered easily.

“Anyway,” The Oracle sidelined, “If you need time to decide, Gentiana can take you to your rooms and—”

“I’ll do it.” Ignis’ voice was strong, he licked his lips, “I would… very much like to see again.”

It was a will yet foreign to his ears. To reclaim a sense should be what anyone would desire, but to Ignis, he had lived in darkness for the past twelve years and adapted to it. The loss gradually became something that didn’t weigh on his mind aside from the opportunities locked from him. It would be a new perspective even though he didn’t know what it meant just yet.

“Sweet.” Prince Noctis replied, “I’ll take you my room, then.”

“What…?”

“I mean, it’s comfortable, has a casual ambience, and we’ll have our privacy.” The Crown Prince postulated slyly. “What’s not to like?”

“Plenty! For starters, our… relationship hasn’t progressed beyond acquaintances.” Ignis retorted hotly. He wasn’t aware whether this was a case of conflicting cultures or Prince Noctis was proposing something. Normally, one doesn’t invite someone to their room upon first introductions. Given all the buzz of admirers, Ignis was positive that the Prince Oracle was indeed a handsome man, but…

“Then let’s get to know each other better,” Prince Noctis laughed. “Just joking. It might take a while to reverse what’s been done to you and there’s no telling what’ll happen if we’re separated for too long.”

“Prince Noctis, are you certain you wish to do this?” Gentiana asked. “You have never performed a miracle that took longer than a few hours.”  

“And I’ve healed thirty people in that time. Broke my own record.”

“Then I’ll see that you are not to be disturbed.” Gentiana conceded with a sigh.

“Thank you, Noctis…” Luna’s voice sounded as it was submerged in water. “But if it’s too much…”

“It’s not,” he assured her. “No favor’s too much when it’s from a friend. Maybe Specs and I can become friends after this.”

Silence followed and Ignis sensed their gazes fall on him. “I… Yes…” He mentally kicked himself for sounding insincere.

“Well, I leave Ignis in your hands, Lord Oracle.” Luna exalted in an optimistic tone.

Noctis groaned, “Please don’t call me that…”

“Good night, Ignis,” Luna’s hand found Ignis’ and squeezed it. “I… I hope everything works out all right.”

“Rest easy,” Ignis patted her hand. “You’ll see a new man come morning.”

At that, the group parted ways. Gentiana was to show Luna the guest room and retire for the night while Ignis was escorted to the Prince Oracle’s personal quarters. The advisor found it strange how Prince Noctis insisted on healing him instead of meeting Luna’s expectations of nightly conversations at a cozy cafe until morning came. What special interest did he have to gain from this? It had to go beyond the request of a friend.

“There’s another reason why I wanted to take you here,” Prince Noctis began as he helped Ignis to a chair.

“Why’s that?” Ignis inquired. He felt around for a table before removing his tinted spectacles.

“I want the first thing you see be Insomnia’s skyline. My room’s got the best view of the lights, sunrise to dusk. The Citadel’s got a life to it, activity, there’s noise, but it’s relaxing. I can stand over there by the balcony and if I distance myself long enough, sometimes I’llforget that I’m the Oracle and Crown Prince.”

Ignis blinked, it shouldn’t be so strange for a person to speak about his homeland especially if it’s a place he’s fond of, but to hear the Oracle rave about it enthusiastically felt uncharacteristic to the way the media portrayed him. Prince Noctis seemed like a normal person who genuinely loved his home.

“I spared you the possibility of running into more paintings of myself. I can share the gorgeous sights with you.”

“There are more paintings of your likeness…?”

“Yeah… Like a timeline. People think that sending paintings of me are the greatest gifts they could bestow and my old man keeps on accepting them. It’s not flattering, just annoying.” Prince Noctis groaned. “No paintings here though.”

“I see…” Ignis nodded pensively, mildly absorbing the facts and thinking back to the mark on the painting.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“What do you look like?”

The two men froze and Ignis felt the informal atmosphere that Noctis projected was instantly vacuumed into regions unknown. They had spoke at the same time, syllables clashed and then realizing that their questions strayed off to different tangents, fell silent. Ignis made a massive error, he had forgotten his place. Simply because he didn’t possess knowledge of other people’s faces didn’t mean he had to ask the Prince Oracle of his. Word would reach Luna’s ears that her advisor wasn’t mindful of his courtesies, his reputation and career ruined, he single-handedly besmirched House Fleuret’s good name.

“My apologies, Your Highness. I—” Ignis stammered.

“Noct.”

“What?”

“Noct. It’s just the two of us here.” The Oracle said, quietly. “Can you say my name?”

Ignis swallowed. “Noct…” It felt foreign on his tongue. It wasn’t just the name, it was a nickname.

“Ignis,” Noctis sounded appeased. “Want something to drink?”

“Water would be lovely, thank you,” Ignis felt as though he was being asphyxiated, reminding himself that it was common courtesy to address someone by their preference. But a hoarse “Your Highness” managed to slip out. He needed that water, Merciful Shiva.

“Noct.” Noctis reminded from the other end of the room. He returned with a chilled bottle of water and Ignis downed a gulp. “So… You want to know what I look like?”

“N-no, nothing like that…” Ignis was in a barren desert and all the water in the oasis cannot rid him of his dry throat. “How would you describe yourself?” Just what about the Prince Oracle caused damsels’ hearts to race and devout followers’ tones to change? Why would he desecrate a self-portrait?

“Wanna touch my face and tell me how you’d put it? I can’t be held responsible if you get nightmares.”

“Well, I hardly think I’ll have nightmares. I don’t scare easily.” Ignis replied with an upward a curl of his lips, hearing Noctis move closer. A light, but pleasant citrus musk wafted, it must’ve been the man’s cologne.

“Only giving you a fair warning.” The Oracle replied lightly, a tease in his voice. “Here.” Fingers pulled at his gloves before they paused. “Uh, do you mind?” Noctis asked, a bit embarrassed.

Ignis had forgotten he had been wearing them. He almost never removed the gloves so the barrier was easy to brush off and placed in the back burner of his mind.

“No, I don’t.”

Softly, Noctis peeled them off, holding Ignis’ hands in his before carefully raising them.

Ignis followed the movement and reached out. The first contact was like ice. He must have made a face because Noctis’ voice was low, suddenly intimidated but he made no effort to pull away.

“Sorry, I run cold these days.” Noctis apologized as Ignis traced the delicate cheekbones. Hair brushed against his inquisitive knuckles. So young and dare Ignis note to himself, handsome. “I think… it’s because healing takes so much out of me. Someone told me it’s like laying on the grass on a midsummer’s day when they receive my healing.”

Ignis paused on Noctis’ chin, daring not to laid his fingertips on his lips. He found himself drawn to this man, wanting to hear more. “What does it feel like to you?” He questioned, curiosity winning out. “What sensation do you feel in return?”

Noctis’ answer was somber. “Like I’m caught in a never-ending blizzard.” His jaw clenched slightly.

“I’m sorry.” The response was lame but it was all Ignis could think to say.

Cold hands clasped his, Noctis had removed his own gloves, and the two men were forehead to forehead. The familiar caress had the advisor breathing lightly.

“Don’t be, I feel like I’m starting to warm up to you…” Elegant hands cradled Ignis’ face. “I’m ready. Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Blessed stars… Kings of Lucis… Oracles of Yore…” Noctis projected his essence into the calling, voice detached and weightless in a request, “Please guide me.”

Behind atrophied and ruined eyes, Ignis detected two rings of gold light, nimbi around gray clouds, hovering over his face. The Prince Oracle’s hands carried a wonderful low-pitched hum. When the former moved them, the volume changed, like bells tolling in the distance, sending pleasurable sensations to the latter’s scalp and entire body. Ignis felt himself enveloped in warmth and understood what Noctis meant about the feeling. Above him, Noctis was muttering sacred passages, but nothing that the advisor could make out, a dead language in a hushed tone. Ignis’ eyelids fluttered, the amiable presence was soothing, warmth permeated his chest, and he nuzzled against the Oracle’s forehead.

A warm breeze, much like the emergence of Tenebrae’s summer solstice, captivated Ignis. This presence lulled him and lowered his defenses, allowing Ignis to bask in this heat he couldn’t see…

“You can talk,” Noctis ceased his indecipherable prayers, addressing Ignis normally. “It’s kinda weird if we stay quiet the entire time.” He chuckled. “Or you can sleep. Last guy I healed snored if you can believe it.”

Ignis blinked at the comment, slow to reach back into himself to gather a response. Words seemed few and far in-between but Noctis sounded like he wanted  something other than silence, so Ignis obliged.

“What would you like to discuss?” He questioned softly, honestly not sure his level of skill was on par with the Oracle, Luna would call him foolish, but outside customs and rules, Ignis knew little, and Noctis hardly seemed the type for either, if Ignis was being brutally honest.

There was a low humming, from Noctis this time, contemplative of the proposed question. “How about… you?” He said like it had been the obvious choice all along, Ignis flushed and felt Noctis forehead move against his own.

“Me? I’m hardly a topic of interest in conversations.” Ignis said lowly. He felt a heat pool in his stomach, continuing up to his chest, to his neck and stopping at his eyes as Noctis shuttered and breathed out, pushing the energy to a low simmer under his skin.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Luna thinks very highly of you. I’d just want to hear it from your mouth.”

Ignis snorted. “I’m not going to wax poetry about myself.”

Noctis chuckled, “There are other things I’d like to hear come from your mouth.”Ignis’ lips suddenly felt hotter than anything as he pursed them.

“Are you this brazen with everyone?” He whispered, horribly unnerved at how easy it would be to touch lips to Noctis’.

“Only with cute guys who wander in and feel up paintings.” The Oracle teased.

“C-cute?” Ignis repeated. “I wasn’t feeling up your painting, I was simply—” No, correcting that he was admiring the artwork wouldn’t have made a difference either way. He wasn’t certain if the Prince Oracle was either refreshing or downright frustrating. “If you’re curious, I suppose I’ll tell you.” He paused for a moment before speaking, “I hail from a hamlet in Tenebrae. Being that I was the only son, my parents wished a better future for me than to become a carpenter. My uncle used his connections within the royal castle to enroll me in a special program. I was considered gifted at a young age and given an important task to serve Lady Lunafreya. I was to be chamberlain of the household. Then…” He swallowed, his tone low, “Lunafreya allowed me to pursue a higher education despite my disability. Her encouragement led me to where I am today.”

“Made top of your class with honors and Luna still fights off nobles who are interested in you.” Noctis stated. “But what do you do for fun? Got any hobbies?”

Ignis wanted to turn away but he couldn’t. His wide eyes stared to nothing, but an awfully inquisitive shadow.

“Come on, Ignis, tell me.” Noctis said quietly, voice turning intimate.

Ignis let out a breath. What did he have to lose at the admission? “I had… at one point envisioned myself as a chef. It was silly given my upbringing but the idea appealed to me. Maybe it was one of my childhood aspirations at one point. Mind you, it was easier to concoct meals that weren’t too complicated in preparation.” The advisor chuckled darkly, “But as chamberlain and retainer, I couldn’t be lax in duty so I memorized recipes no matter how difficult they were. I was told that my dishes are quite delectable.”

“I really want to kiss you.”

Ignis jumped, head slamming into Noctis’. The Oracle’s hands came up and clasped his shoulders loosely.

“Sorry, sorry, a bit too much.” Ignis relaxed and sat back down. “You’re just too perfect… Can I ask you something crazy?”

“I don’t think I want to kiss you right now, to be perfectly honest.” Ignis said bluntly.

Noctis laughed, “I know, I was being a bit much, but that wasn’t it. Will you let me taste something you cook after this?”

Ignis blinked. “I… hadn’t thought of the first thing to do after I’m healed, but yes… If you think you’ll enjoy something mediocre. What would you like me to make?”

“I like pastries.” Noctis said, sounding a bit shy, his hand swept over Ignis’ brow.

“A sweet tooth. Who would’ve have known? Given your forwardness, spicy food might be something of your preference.”

“Well, spicy food is a close second.” Noctis cleared his throat. “No, last time I was in Tenebrae, I had these amazing desserts, but I forgot what they’re called.”

“Hmm… Tenebrae is renowned for many things, not limited to its cuisine. You want me to recreate these pastries for you?”

“If you can. I mean, you’re from there so I thought maybe…”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Ignis promised. He once baked cookies and cakes for Luna in the past, simple but edible things that the princess cooed over their sizes. That was before her taste buds for sweets had changed and Ignis ceased baking accordingly. “What are your hobbies, Noct?”

“Fishing. When I can. There’s not much open land in Lucis, you know. Ravus taught me.” Noctis sighed. “There was this lake and my dad wheeled me over and we sat on the pier all day.” Noctis smiled, his voice fond, “He was probably bored because I wasn’t at good at it. But instead of making me release the small fish, he let me take them home as pets.” He paused, quietly adding, “I’d like to go back to that lake someday.”

Something wet hit Ignis’ face.

“Sorry. Yeesh, this is embarrassing.” Noctis’ voice was light but it wobbled at the end. Ignis reached up the face, trailing his hand up the Crown Prince’s cheek.

“It’s all right to miss something.” Ignis said, gently.

“It’s just a fishing spot.” The other man argued weakly.

“It was where you and your father found peace for a time.”

“It was nice,” Noctis confided, “When I was chosen to be the Oracle, it was hard. But when I saw that look of relief on someone’s face after I performed a ritual, it was worth it, you know? But I can’t help everyone. Things just went out of my control. We’re taught, the end… it’s peaceful. The Six welcome you with open arms and you’re happy… I don’t believe it and I don’t think I ever will.” Noctis whispered, like it was a shocking secret, for an Oracle, Ignis supposed it was. “But… for the people that I couldn’t save, I want to believe it.”

That sort of belief, Ignis thought, is what made Noctis a great Oracle, a belief for someone else’s happiness even when your own was waning.

Silence settled between the two men for what almost felt like an eternity. “This is coming along great,” Noctis assured. “I can almost taste those pastries.”

“Is that all you’re looking forward to?”

“I told you, I can’t wait for you to see Insomnia. Maybe I’ll give you and Luna the grand tour while I still have you. Anything you want to see, you’ll get.”

“Noct?”

“Yeah?”

“Will I be able to look at my face?”

“Yup,” Noctis sounded perplexed by the question. “I mean, you should.”

Ignis shook his head. The Prince Oracle misunderstood so he asked a different question, the young man talked so much about recovering the advisor’s sight but nothing else. “My scars… would remain after this, won’t they?” A forced laugh pushed past his lips. “I’m told that they’re a frightening sight to behold.”

“What? Really?” Ignis was surprised Noctis’ voice held only shock.

Ignis’ lips twisted bitterly. “They must’ve disturbed you considerably when you approached me.”

“Touch.” Noctis said.

“Pardon?”

“My first reaction was to touch them. They’re very attractive…” His voice got quiet. “Is that morbid? You just… You’re so attractive. I can’t imagine how you looked before but I don’t really want to. The scars, they’re part of you and proof that you’re alive. Especially the one on your lip…” Noctis’ voice droned off with a sigh.

Ignis has never quite gotten that reaction, it was usually pity or sympathy though not often expressed in words, it was in their tone that soured the conversations. It got a bit exhausting to feel people’s stares, his glasses could only cover so much after all.

“They make you look… I dunno, striking? Powerful?” Noctis hummed, “It’s hard to describe. Your eyes are a beautiful green, a bit pale but boy, do they shine.”

“Ah yes, a milky film over green, lovely.” Ignis sneered, he’d been a told of that as well, it made him a bit queasy the first time it had be described to him.

“Whoever told you about your looks must have been jealous, Specs. You’re a vision.”

Ignis woke up lying on something soft, no longer sitting upright like he was in the chair. A bed. He didn’t recall ever falling asleep nor walking to a bed. Did it mean that the healing was complete? He dared to open his eyes, exhaustion fought at his lids and instead of seeing endless darkness, he saw dawn broke.

Soft rays of light peeked over skyscrapers and the sky was blushed with an array of radiant colors, colors that had served no purpose to Ignis for he had forgotten, save for gold and black. Daylight would soon bathe the streets of the Prince Oracle’s homeland. What seemed like absolute darkness was of the past and it permeated deep to his core. Noctis was right, Insomnia was breathtaking.

As he let the moment sink in and cherished the first sight in twelve years, fire embraced the space between his shoulder blades. Ignis rolled over.

A man’s raven locks were messily sprawled out over a pillow and delicately framed his svelte face. His black button-down shirt and white trousers were chaotically wrinkled by a poor sleeping position. Serenity and incandescence was about this man, no longer a silhouette but just the man in peaceful slumber. Ignis’ breath hitched in his throat and couldn’t help but be enraptured. He was stunning, possessing an almost otherworldly beauty. Ignis found himself questioning if this man was the savior who reclaimed his sight, that with his infernal mannerisms yet retain an air of modesty. This was Noctis.

But trepidation made the advisor’s heart uneasy. He sat up. Noctis’ complexion was flushed, splotchy and his slender brow was knitted in discomfort. Ignis’ hand pushed past the damp hair and rested on Noctis’ forehead. The advisor placed the other hand on his own. Noctis was running a fever.

“Feels good…” Noctis groaned, his eyelids fluttered, revealing stellar blue eyes as smoldering and subtle as open flames. “Morning, how you feeling?” His voice was groggy and slurred as he leaned in the advisor’s hand.

Ignis dropped his hand but swept at the Prince Oracle’s hair. “You’re burning up.” He murmured. “You said healing makes you cold.”

“Told you,” Noctis said through a sheepish grin as he closed his eyes. “Something about you… Burns me up.”

[oscopelabs]

Dallas through the Looking Glass: Post-Truth and Kennedy Assassination Movies by Chris Evangelista

Here’s an alarming statistic: a recent CBS News poll revealed 74% of Republican voters believe the conspiracy theory that the offices of Donald Trump were wiretapped during the 2016 presidential campaign, despite there being absolutely no evidence to support that claim. But conspiracy theories are easy to grasp onto. Another poll, this one by Fairleigh Dickinson University, says 63% percent of American voters believe in “at least one political conspiracy theory.” There’s a strange comfort in believing a conspiracy—a sense that you are in the know, while others are on the outside looking in; that you, and a select few others, have discovered the truth, while everyone else is still in the dark.

Conspiracy theories surrounding presidents are nothing new. The wiretapping conspiracy theory, however, had the unlikely distinction of being made popular by the president himself, via Mr. Trump’s serially inaccurate Twitter feed. Trump himself has made his entire political career about conspiracy theories: his current ascendance in the world of politics, for instance, owes something to his leadership of the “Birther” movement—the not-so-thinly veiled racist belief that President Barack Obama is not an American citizen. At the time, Trump and his hateful ilk were on the fringe. Now they’re running the country. Welcome to the post-truth era. Welcome to the world of “alternative facts.”

Shortly after the startling 2016 presidential election, the Oxford Dictionaries selected “post-truth” as the international word of the year. The term is defined as “relating to or denoting circumstances in which objective facts are less influential in shaping public opinion than appeals to emotion and personal belief.” Yet this post-truth way of thinking is nothing new—rather, it has finally gone from existing somewhere on the fringes to playing a role in the mainstream. Perhaps the most overwhelming source of post-truth logic had been in plain sight for the last 53 years, in the conspiracy buff movement that has studied and dissected the November 22, 1963 assassination of President John F. Kennedy. And, as is the case with any event that shocks the world, it was only a matter of time before art attempted to make sense of reality.

In 1973, ten years after JFK’s assassination, Executive Action found its way into theaters, starring Burt Lancaster, with a script by Dalton Trumbo. Imagine if in 2011 a film about 9/11 being an inside job written by Aaron Sorkin and starring Tom Hanks had been released, and you might have some concept of how startling Executive Action likely seemed. Here was a no-nonsense thriller, inter-spliced with actual newsreel footage of Kennedy, concerning a shadowy cabal of businessmen who make up their minds to murder the president. They have their reasons: Kennedy pulling out of Vietnam will be bad; Kennedy’s support of civil rights will lead to a “black revolution”; Kennedy is taking the country in a distressingly “liberal” direction. What are a group of businessmen, oil tycoons, and ex-US intelligence members to do but put together a very intricate, somewhat convoluted plot to kill JFK and frame a hapless patsy, Lee Harvey Oswald?

Executive Action was the brainchild of attorney and conspiracy buff Mark Lane, who wrote multiple books on the assassination. (Although rumor has it that it was actor Donald Sutherland who came up with the idea first, and tasked Lane with writing a script for him to star in.) Director David Miller’s approach to the script is workmanlike: lots of medium shots, lots of by-the-numbers blocking. No frills. But there is an undeniable effectiveness to the film, mostly in how calmly everything is handled. When you contrast this film with Oliver Stone’s JFK (more on that later), which tells almost the same story, it’s night and day. Stone’s film is frantic, unhinged, to the point that you can almost see the perforations as the film shakes off the reels. Executive Action is cold, businesslike, much like the men who nonchalantly plan to kill the most powerful man in the world. Lancaster, with his clipped cadence, has never been so chilling. He has a simple job—hire men to kill JFK—and he does it the way any everyman might approach a difficult but not impossible task. There’s no drama, no wringing of hands, no moral conundrum. It makes Executive Action all the more believable. Everyone is so calm and collected here that you can’t help but think, “Well, maybe this is how it happened.” (It’s not.)

On the heels of Executive Action came Alan J. Pakula’s darkness-drenched The Parallax View. Parallax isn’t a direct take on the Kennedy assassination, but the implications are unmistakable. Once again, we have a group of shadowy captains of industry pulling the strings behind the scenes. Once again, we have an unfortunate patsy set up to take the fall for a political assassination. Notice a thread here: a lone gunman is framed and blamed. An angry lone nut takes the fall while the real killers go unnoticed, or worse—remain in power, unstoppable. So disillusioned were the American people by both JFK’s death and Watergate that it was easy to believe the forces of darkness were calling the shots.

The bulk of narrative films that address the Kennedy assassination almost all revolve around the assumption that the official story—Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone—was bunk. After all, who was Oswald? A nobody. A scrawny runt with dyslexia. How could one insignificant man alter the course of history? At the same time, why isn’t it more believable that a man with an unstable personality carried out the Kennedy assassination, rather than a multi-tiered, far-reaching conspiracy of shadowy men in smoke-filled rooms? The real Lee Harvey Oswald was a controlling abuser—a man who beat his Russian wife and insisted she never learn English so that he would be her only point of contact in America; a man who resented any and all authority; and a man who, months before the assassination, in April, actually attempted to carry out another assassination of notorious John Birch Society member Major Edwin Walker (an event most conspiracy films never even mention).

If there is one film that conspiracy lore owes the most debt to, it’s Oliver Stone’s 1991 blockbuster JFK. A meticulously crafted, downright brilliant thriller, JFK blends fact and fiction so deftly that one could be forgiven for thinking the film was more of a history lesson than a piece of pop entertainment. Stone, for his part, did very little to clarify what his intentions were. He said in an interview with the New York Times that “every point, every argument, every detail in the movie...has been researched, can be documented, and is justified.” Stone also claimed the film was a “history lesson” and that he was “trying to reshape the world through movies.” Stone also dubbed himself a “cinematic historian” during promotion for the film. Years later, in Matt Zoller Seitz’s expansive The Oliver Stone Experience, Stone had changed his tune slightly: “I don’t call myself a historian. I call myself a dramatist.” In Seitz’s book, Stone seems to downplay the “every detail can be justified” claim and fall back on his speculative fiction angle, although he’s still clearly convinced of a conspiracy.

As a work of fiction, JFK is a masterpiece. Stone, a team of editors, and cinematographer Robert Richardson create an immersive trip through the wild world of JFK conspiracy lore. Stone needed a hero to center the film’s sweaty, paranoid ramblings, and he found it in New Orleans District Attorney Jim Garrison. As played by Kevin Costner, Stone’s Garrison is a Capra-esque hero, a truth seeker committed to doing the right thing, no matter what the cost. “Let justice be done though the heavens fall!” Garrison trumpets to a team of reporters. JFK has Garrison cracking open the Kennedy case by first looking into the time Lee Harvey Oswald (played with eerie chameleon-like fervor by Gary Oldman) spent in New Orleans, and then cracking open the whole can of worms. Oswald, Garrison learns, is just what he said he was—a patsy. The real killers of Kennedy were the military industrial complex, or maybe the FBI, or maybe the CIA, or maybe the mafia. Or maybe…. well, the list goes on. Despite Stone’s claims at the time of the film being a history lesson, he never presents an entirely concrete connection between any of these conspirators.

The first half of JFK sets up the pieces: here is who may have been involved with the assassination and we’re not sure how all these people fit together, but one thing we know for sure is that Oswald didn’t pull the trigger. The back end of the film turns into a courtroom melodrama, with Garrison bringing local New Orleans businessman Clay Shaw (played with a chilly sophistication by Tommy Lee Jones) to trial for being one of the lead instigators of the assassination plot. Eventually, Shaw is found innocent, and rightfully so—the film presents almost no real evidence to prove Shaw had anything to do with the alleged conspiracy, save for the testimony of a male prostitute, Willie O’Keefe (Kevin Bacon, having the time of his life). Here is where a moral conundrum arises: Clay Shaw was a real person, and really was brought to trial by Garrison. Willie O’Keefe is fictional, a character inspired by a man named Perry Russo. The problem: Russo was so undependable as a witness, his credibility so suspect, and his story so inconsistent, that Stone had to create a fictional character in order to get the story he wanted.

There are more problems with Stone’s approach. The real Jim Garrison was not the crusader for truth the film makes him out to be. The historical Garrison was actually a man who would’ve fit right in with the Trump administration. “Most of the time you marshal the facts, then deduce your theories,” said former First Assistant D.A. and Garrison associate Charles Ward. “But Garrison deduced a theory, then he marshaled his facts. And if the facts didn’t fit he’d say they had been altered by the CIA.” Garrison, for his part, even doubled down on this backwards logic, stating at one point, “The district attorney can make any statements he wishes,” truth be damned. Whatever evidence Garrison lacked, he seems to have fabricated. Most considered his bringing Shaw to trial a miscarriage of justice, and after Shaw was swiftly acquitted, Garrison mostly languished in obscurity. Even the conspiracy buffs distanced themselves from him. Then Stone, and Hollywood, came calling, and Garrison was back in the limelight.

If you’re able to remove the historical elements from JFK, you can easily enjoy it. But when you start to dissect the truth, or at least what’s known of the truth, the waters get murky. JFK’s Oswald is presented as an innocent bystander, unaware of the dark forces working behind the scenes to set him up for the biggest murder in American history. In one wisely deleted scene from the film, Stone even had the ghost of Oswald take the stand during the Shaw trial and flat-out proclaim, “I am innocent!” Vincent Bugliosi’s gargantuan Reclaiming History: The Assassination of President John F. Kennedy is one of the most definitive books written on the Kennedy assassination, and Mr. Bugliosi lays out page after page of evidence that points to Oswald’s guilt—evidence that’s either never touched on or outright altered in Stone’s film. Stone completely ignores the incident where Oswald, using the same gun that was proven to have killed Kennedy, attempted to kill Major Edwin Walker. The film also casually omits the fact that the morning of the assassination, Oswald received a ride to work from a coworker who claimed Oswald had a long, wrapped package with him. Oswald claimed the package was just “some curtain rods”—though why he was bringing curtain rods to work was a mystery. Also a mystery: after Oswald was arrested, he denied bringing any curtain rods. Later, the brown wrapping paper the “curtain rods” were wrapped in was found on the sixth floor of the Texas School Book Depository, where the shooting allegedly took place. So either Oswald really did bring curtain rods to work, unwrapped them, and then they mysterious vanished, or what he actually had was his rifle. Or perhaps the coworker was lying and in on the conspiracy.

Other casually omitted or altered facts from Stone’s film: during the assassination, a man named Howard Brennan looked up and saw Oswald in a window of the book depository, rifle in hand. Later, as Oswald fled the crime scene, he was believed to have shot and killed Officer J.D. Tippet. Stone’s film presents a scenario in which no one was able to identify Oswald as the shooter of Tippet, when in fact there were ten separate eyewitnesses who placed Oswald at the scene. The list goes on and on. The argument could be made that art has no obligation to the truth. Dramatic license is the bedrock of most biopics and “true story” films. But this is a gray area when it comes to JFK, a film with weighted dialogue like “Fundamentally, people are suckers for the truth. And the truth is on your side.” On top of this, JFK has the distinction of bringing about legislative changes. So popular was Stone’s film that Congress passed the President John F. Kennedy Assassination Records Collection Act of 1992, which established the collection of all U.S. records regarding the Kennedy assassination to be housed in the National Archives. All of this, coupled with the film’s newsreel opening, lends an air of legitimacy to JFK. It turns speculation into perceived truth, intentional or not.

The year following JFK saw the release of Ruby, a film so far removed from historical fact that you’d be hard pressed to find anything true within its plot. Danny Aiello gives Oswald’s killer Jack Ruby a dignity the real Ruby never had, and turns him into something of a folk hero—a man who, like Stone’s Garrison, is committed to doing the right thing. Ruby borders on spy-thriller territory, with Ruby being drafted as a mafia hitman who gets wrapped up in a conspiracy spinning out of control. It’s mostly forgotten, and for good reason. Aside from Aiello’s soulful take on the Dallas nightclub owner, the film is unremarkable. 1993 gave audiences In the Line of Fire, where the Kennedy assassination haunts an aging Secret Service agent (played by Clint Eastwood) who was there that day in Dallas and failed to save Kennedy’s life. In the Line of Fire eschews conspiracy trappings but once again delegates Oswald to a footnote, an afterthought. In the film, a lone nut (played memorably by John Malkovich as something of an inhuman trickster) taunts Eastwood’s Secret Service agent with his plot against the current president via threatening phone calls. “Call me Booth,” Malkovich instructs Eastwood. “Why not Oswald?” Eastwood asks. “Because Booth had flair, panache,” replies Malkovich. “A leap to the stage after he shot Lincoln.” Oswald just isn’t dramatic enough for this assassin to emulate—and then again, maybe he was innocent?

2002’s Interview With the Assassin is an unjustly overlooked, highly creative take on conspiracy lore. Told in faux documentary style, the film follows an amateur filmmaker (Dylan Haggerty) approached by his elderly next door neighbor (a creepy yet hilarious Raymond J. Barry). The neighbor has a story to tell: it was he, not Lee Harvey Oswald, who delivered the fatal JFK head shot. As the filmmaker follows the alleged assassin, he first comes to believe the man’s story, then begins to have his doubts, convinced that the neighbor is just a deranged nut, before coming back around to belief for the film’s conclusion, all while the specters of shadowy government agents lurk in the background. Again, just as Executive Action and JFK deployed documentary-style footage to lend an air of legitimacy to their narratives, Interview with the Assassin is deceptively plausible. In fact, if you were unfamiliar with Raymond J. Barry, a great character actor with 114 screen credits to his name, you might actually fall into the Blair Witch Project trap and believe this really is a documentary, so believable and convincing is Barry’s performance.

As the 21st century progressed, the filmic approach to the Kennedy assassination shifted. Conspiracy began to take a back seat to attempts at “setting the record straight.” Perhaps in the specter of 9/11, with its “inside job” nuts coming out of the woodwork to proclaim, “Jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams!”, or in light of the deplorable “Sandy Hook truthers,” who have the unmitigated gall to claim the murder of 20 children was a “false flag,” Hollywood has lost its taste for propping up conspiracies. 2013’s Parkland told a Short Cuts-like story of the minutes and hours following the assassination: From the team of doctors who valiantly but fruitlessly tried to save JFK’s life to a befuddled Abraham Zapruder (Paul Giamatti) coming to terms with the fact that by filming the head shot he’s now in possession of the most important “home movie” in history to Robert Oswald (James Badge Dale), whose entire life is suddenly upended by his estranged brother Lee (Jeremy Strong). Parkland doesn’t delve into the investigation, but makes it clear it believes Oswald is the sole killer. The film is curiously flat, failing to hit any of the big emotional beats it strives for. Where it succeeds is in taking the time to show the blood and confusion inside the Parkland hospital emergency room, and it does highlight the surreal occurrence of Oswald being wheeled into the same hospital with his own fatal wound so soon after the assassination.

Oddly, the most historically accurate portrayal of the assassination, and the events leading up to it, can be found in a work of science fiction. The Hulu mini-series adaptation of Stephen King’s 11.22.63 draws on King’s meticulous research into Oswald, and shows Oswald’s tumultuous, abusive marriage as well as his failed assassination attempt on Edwin Walker. It also shows him pulling the trigger. The twist in this whole narrative is that this is a time travel story, about a 21st century English teacher (James Franco) who goes back in time to try to stop Oswald. Franco’s character can only travel to 1960, and thus has to wait it out till 1963. He can’t just outright kill Oswald, though, because the doubt remains: what if Oswald really is innocent? As a result, 11.22.63 becomes a detective story, with Franco’s time traveller trying to piece together evidence to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Oswald really is going to kill JFK, and then stop him. Of all the JFK films, 11.22.63 is the first to truly represent how unpleasant and abusive Lee Harvey Oswald was. As played by Daniel Webber, Oswald is a cruel jerk with delusions of grandeur, convinced he’s destined for greater things if only everyone would just get out of his way. This is closest to the real Oswald, based on the testimony of those who knew him, including his wife Marina. At one point, the real Oswald even boasted that one day he’d obtain the non-existent office of “Prime Minister of America.” The Oswald in 11.22.63 is an entirely different species than the sainted black-and-white ghost who takes the stand in JFK and proclaims his innocence.

Pablo Larraín’s recent Jackie took the assassination narrative further than any film before it by dealing directly with the effect it had on both the nation and Kennedy’s widow (Natalie Portman). Jackie is obsessed with myth making, and much like the myths and conspiracies that sprung up in the years following JFK’s death, the film is awash in events that bend the truth and stagger the mind. A numbing effect sets in, as grief gives way to acceptance and some attempt at understanding. As doctors perform an autopsy on her husband at Bethesda Naval Hospital, Jackie, her pink dress stained with blood and gore, paces around the emergency room in a fury. “It had to be some silly little communist,” she spits as word of Oswald’s arrest for the murder spreads. “If [Jack had] been killed for civil rights, at least then it would have meant something, you know?” This line of dialogue from Noah Oppenheim’s script gets to the heart of the conspiracy movement: perhaps if the reasoning behind Kennedy’s murder had been some grander scheme instead of the actions of a lone gunman grasping at fame, then maybe there would be more meaning behind all of this. Maybe then life wouldn’t be so arbitrary, so random.

Jackie plans her husband’s funeral as pageantry; it’s not just a somber service, it’s a Hollywood remake of Abraham Lincoln’s funeral, with a march through wintry streets as all the world is watching. Following the funeral, she tells her story to a reporter (Billy Crudup), but she dictates the direction the story goes. She wants final approval over his story, and forbids him from writing up certain elements—like the fact that she smokes. “I’m just trying to get to the truth,” Crudup’s reporter says. “The truth?” Jackie replies. “Well I’ve grown accustomed to a great divide between what people believe and what I know to be real.” “Fine,” says the reporter. “I’ll settle for a story that’s believable.”

So must we all, especially here in whatever post-truth reality we find ourselves stuck in. The problems begin when we decide to pick and choose what it is we consider “believable,” and who we believe. “People like to believe in fairytales,” Portman’s shell-shocked Jackie tells us. Before the 2016 presidential election, one could safely argue the case for eschewing truth for the sake of art. Now, things might not be so simple. A decisive lack of truth unquestionably contributed to our current situation, just as a decisive lack of truth is integral to the bulk of the films that attempt to dissect the JFK assassination. In these films, the truth is what we make of it. Some may find comfort in that, but these days, the implications are terrifying.

[blog-codonnell-blog]

Super Mario and his Representation of Transgender People

Super Mario has constantly been changing with the times and has kept up with their generally positive image. Who would have known that Mario would have introduced the first transgender characters way back in 1988, in the video game Super Mario Bros 2. Birdo had appeared as a mini-boss, and the manual that came with the game offered the description of  Ostro, he thinks he is a girl. He’d rather be called Birdetta” (Johnson). This is the first piece of information we have about the character and has had a huge impact on the character's identity to this day. Instead of being a one-off character, Birdo has in fact been adopted into the many mainstream games as a playable character, which includes Mario Kart, Mario Tennis, and Mario Party. This helps give people who are transgender a character to relate to and be able to identify with, and the fact that she is in most party games where a broad and diverse audience of people play is great. Despite Nintendo not being the best with LGBTQIA politics and attempts made to bury her identity, she still appears in almost all the main spin-off games in the franchise and still has the origin story intact. In the article “Birdo: Gaming’s First Transgender Character” the author states that “Identifying as female makes you female, you don’t need surgery for that, end of story.” (Johnson). This has been a heavily debated topic recently about what classifies a person as transgender and has even been put to polls regarding transgender people with discrimination and bathroom use. In the article “3 things to know about Massachusetts ballot Question 3” by Nik DeCosta-Klipa, shows the mindset of opposers of the law with “Opponents of the law say the statute’s definition of “gender identity” is too broad and vague and raise fears that it allows men improperly posing as women access to female restrooms and locker rooms.” (DeCosta-Klipa). If the discussion is non-violent and productive it is good for our country and having a video game character that not only represents a community, but a murky topic within defining someone is great for not only representation but for conversation. The very topic of gender identification and restrooms even comes up in the video game Captain Rainbow, which is a Japanese exclusive. The plot goes that Birdo is imprisoned for using the wrong bathroom and as the player, you must rescue her from the robot jailer that does not believe she is a woman (Shaw). This is fantastic for our current situation in society as this is exactly reflecting where we are in the world and what progress we have made in such a short span of time. Unfortunately, this video game was only a Japanese release, which means it has had no exposure in the United States or other countries across the world. I personally feel that even if a game would cause some controversy its important that we get these releases in the United States to help facilitate discussion and build an understanding of both sides. Despite Nintendo not coming out completely stating that Birdo is transgender, the lore of the character is left intact and they continue to use female pronouns in which Birdo wants to be identified with, even though her debut was made as a boy. I believe video games and other sources of media is becoming more diverse and representing other communities more properly. This is great and not only are they being represented, but they are being represented respectfully which is even more important. Even if the character is not super significant to the story or a major character, some accurate representation is better than no representation or a lot of bad representation, which we have seen in the past. Overall, Nintendo has done a great thing with incorporating diversity, but I believe as we progress as a society, they have to stop being afraid of interpreting their characters history outside of Japan and start to open to other countries. With such a large media intake for our youth, showing the message of acceptance and diversity is a great way to set an example for the upcoming generation and only good come from this.

Works Cited 

DeCosta-Klipa, Nik. “3 Things to Know about Massachusetts Ballot Question 3.” Boston.com, The Boston Globe, 26 Sept. 2018, www.boston.com/news/politics/2018/09/26/massachusetts-ballot-questions-2018-question-3.

Johnson, Nichole. “Birdo : Gaming's First Transgender Character.” New Normative, 26 Oct. 2017, newnormative.com/2017/10/26/lgbtqia-representation-in-gaming-birdo/. 

Shaw, Adrienne. “Birdo in Super Mario Bros 2.” LGBTQ Video Game Archive, 11 Feb. 2017, lgbtqgamearchive.com/2015/09/11/birdo/.