#I simply wanted to transform into A Ant and never be seen or heard from again

[muskpunk]

it's really funny to me that liking little known artists has this reputation of being like. a snobby Cooler Than You Normies type of thing? when in reality I feel like I'm being held at gunpoint when asked to share music with people who don't like weird indie stuff

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH52

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 52: Purgatory Reunion (IV)

[Player Qi Leren has arrived in Purgatory and started the task: Sacrifice of the Devil King]

[Task background: Three years ago, the Devil of Slaughter provoked the Devil of Power, and was suppressed by the Devil of Power and the Devil of Fraud in Purgatory’s lake of fire. However, he did not die nor give up, but silently waited for an opportunity. Three years later, the seal was accidentally loosened, and the Devil of Slaughter’s consciousness broke free from the seal and began to look for a way to resurrect...]

[Task requirements: Destroy the Devil of Slaughter and gain one third of the authority of the Devil of Destruction.]

[Data synchronization countdown, ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, synchronization completed.]

　　&&&

"Oh? So, this martial law is the order of the Devil of Power herself?" a person in leather boots whispered in a sexy, soft voice. If they didn't pay attention, the voice would be covered by the wind passing through the underground passage.

But who dared to not listen carefully? The lower demon secretly glanced at the succubus, facing his smiling yet cold eyes. He looked at him as if he was a maggot crawling on the ground, which scared him, and said in a trembling voice: "I don't know... I just heard..."

"Heard?" The succubus repeated the word, his tone full of deep dissatisfaction.

"No no no, sir, the rumors are likely to be true! There was an abnormality in Purgatory’s lake of fire before, that is, the lake of fire that suppressed the Devil of Slaughter... I think that there may be a problem with the seal on the Devil of Slaughter! That’s it!" the lower demon quickly explained, fearing that the succubus would kill him in annoyance.

"Hehe." The succubus chuckled inexplicably and stopped.

Ahead was a huge underground space, which was too high for the top of the cave to be seen. The fluorescent plants and fluorescent moths covered this pure darkness from their perches on the rock walls, which made it seem as though the cave walls of this bottomless underground nest were dotted with starry light.

They were standing in an underground valley at this time, opposite to another underground valley, and between the two cliffs was a moat-like abyss, with churning red magma flowing under their feet, like a rushing river rushing toward the deeper lake of fire.

"Sir, do you want to pass? The patrol is very strict on the other side, I'm afraid that if you’re found..." The lower demon carefully raised his head and observed the succubus.

The mysterious succubus was studying a crystal in his hand, and the lower demon recognized that it was a life crystal. The original clear crystal has overflowed with black smoke, and there were fine cracks on the crystal’s surface.

It seemed that the owner of this crystal was in a bad situation, no wonder he was in such a hurry…

However, whose life crystal was this? What did it have to do with this succubus?

The succubus was aware of the other’s snooping gaze, and tilted his head to glance at the lower demon behind him. The ruby-like eyes flowed with the innate charm of succubuses, but they were as cold as ice: "Is there a more hidden path?"

The lower demon did not dare to look at him again. He bowed his head to suppress his rapid heartbeat, but he still saw the succubus’ long legs that were wrapped in leather pants so tight he may as well have been naked. After mentally rehearsing ten times, he said cautiously: "There is indeed one."

Magma ran rapidly through the canyon, and the succubus’ smile as he stood on the cliff deepened, murmuring in a dreamy way: "That's great."

It seemed that he had saved his small life, and the lower demon breathed a sigh of relief. Since he had been caught by this mysterious succubus an hour ago and forced him to "sell" a slew of intelligence, he was always in awe. As a well-known information broker near Purgatory, he was cautious in his daily life, rarely came forward himself, and lived a very low profile. So when he woke up this time and found a succubus sitting on the bay window opposite the bed, smiling as he twirled a dagger in his hand, he was really scared.

Comfortable days had passed for so long that he’d almost forgotten the terror of being on the edge of life and death.

Now, he coaxed the shadowy boss in a desperation to keep him pleased, and helped him hurry to the lake of fire. Anyway, he wasn’t curious... Well, there was still a little curiosity. Who was this succubus working for? What was his purpose for coming to Purgatory at this delicate moment? He definitely wasn’t with the Devil of Power or the Devil of Fraud, otherwise he wouldn’t need to be so careful.

Was he an old follower of the Devil of Slaughter? Or..... was he simply a follower of the fallen Lord of Destruction...

The lower demon did not dare to think about it any more. He lost 10% of his caution. He took the succubus around the patrol line, crossed the magma river in the underground valley, and finally came to the strictest area.

"This is it. Go from here and pass through the warning zone to reach the lake of fire. However, the area around the lake of fire has been completely blocked. I heard that a large-scale conflict broke out last night. Right now, entrance and exit from the lake has been barred. I can only take you this far. Next..." The lower demon rubbed his hands and smiled in a professional manner, fearing that the succubus would turn on him at any moment.

The succubus stood outside the warning zone, and the channels extended in all directions in front of him seemed like an ant's nest. He was afraid that the demons patrolling in the cave would cause a chain reaction.

Qi Leren sighed in his heart. He’d never thought that he would encounter so many difficulties after entering the Underground Ant City.

If it wasn't for the fact that the Court had given him a lot of resources and help, even if he spent ten days or half a month alone, he couldn't so much as touch the right way, let alone find the den of an underground information broker, and even coax and scare him into leading the way.

But even under such efficiency, there was not much time left for him.

There was only less than an hour's journey left to reach the lake, but this journey required vigilance. Qi Leren, who hadn't slept a wink for more than a day, had passed the point of exhaustion, but now was both energetic and filled with anxiety.

He was too afraid that it was too late.

"The conflict last night, tell me in detail," the succubus said lightly.

"This... is suspected to be caused by the old Devil of Destruction’s people. Specifically... I didn't go to work because I was with you so early this morning. The detailed information can be presented to you immediately when I go back and sort it out!"

The succubus hissed, and his red eyes showed deep contempt and murderous intent: "Do you still need to tidy up?"

"No no no no, I mean... I only have hearsay, I haven't tried to verify it, I'm afraid it’s not reliable."

"Let's hear it."

"Okay, sir. About a month ago, the lake of fire began to behave strangely, and died down after an underground volcanic eruption, but two days ago, several big demons from the underworld appeared near Purgatory. All of them were the old staff of the Lord of Destruction, and they seemed to explore something near the lake of fire. Since the fall of the Destroyer, they seldom come out, and this time they suspiciously appeared together. That is, in these two days, a low-level demon disappeared and was killed near the lake of fire. This kind of thing is very common, and we did not pay attention until last night..."

The lower devil's face showed a complex expression of fear and reverence. He lowered his voice and excitedly told the secret: "Last night, someone saw the body of a high-level demon in the canyon downstream of the lake of fire, soaked in lava, and flowing down along the magma... There were as many ants, which were crushed by the dark pressure. Then the whole of Purgatory went under martial law, and the lake of fire area became particularly strict. If you try to enter carelessly, you’ll be killed!"

"Who did it?" asked the succubus.

"We don't know that, but there is a clue. Last night, a demon heard a dragon roaring near the lake of fire. At that time, the whole canyon around the lake of fire was shaking, like an earthquake. The stones collapsed and fell everywhere. He ran quickly but saw nothing else."

"A dragon roaring..." the succubus whispered thoughtfully.

Getting the map of this area, he let the hapless demon information broker go. Qi Leren took off the "costume" he had used while undercover with the Slaughter Secret Society, changed into clothes more convenient for movement, and threw the fancy leather boots covered with sequins and silver chains on his feet back into the item bar, then hurriedly walked into the cave.

The dragon roaring last night was probably Ning Zhou awakening to the power of Destruction and transforming into a magic dragon. Was the big fight last night related to Ning Zhou's final death? Qi Leren couldn't be sure. Right now, he couldn't wait to fly to him when he thought of how close Ning Zhou was.

He had to catch up, and he would catch up. Qi Leren shook his fist, equipped the necessary skill cards, and touched the Prophet's Heart item hanging on his chest. He wanted to pass this area of the martial law’s warning zone. In addition to relying on maps and hidden technology, he had to rely on Secretly Observing. If it was really impossible...

Even with the Prophet’s Heart, he would have to forcibly cross the warning zone into the lake of fire.

He couldn't wait any longer.

Prepared psychologically, Qi Leren took a deep breath and strode forward.

……

……

……

The last guard post was already ahead, and [Secretly Observing] has also entered cooldown. Qi Leren’s body was tightly pressed to the rock wall, listening to the footsteps getting closer and closer. The patrolling demons held torches, which lit up the dark environment.

It seemed to be just a few ordinary demons, otherwise they wouldn't need torches to see.

Below this cliff was a huge "lake", with smoke rising above the brightly burning lava, making this cold underground like a burning hell. This was the lake of fire. Ning Zhou was here.

Qi Leren closed his eyes and calculated the most likely way to break through.

The patrolling demons were in groups of two. It would be very difficult for him to kill two demons silently at the same time. Once he failed, the demons on the guard post nearby would set off a chain reaction... If there’s a storm ahead, take a detour...

There was a loud bang, and the demons on patrol stopped and whispered, "What happened? Is it going crazy again? "

"Who knows. Be careful, don't be too lazy. Many people died yesterday."

The ground suddenly shook, as if an earthquake had broken out!

Loose rocks on the rock wall fell down in pieces, causing a lot of turmoil. Qi Leren, who was waiting for an opportunity, took this opportunity to rush out. When the two patrolling demons panicked, he took care of them sharply and neatly. Rather than dealing with the bodies, he went through the last sentry post as the rocks continued falling and rushed to the cliff ahead without looking back.

It was as if a window had been opened in the huge rock wall. Qi Leren stood at this window and looked down.

As far as he could see, the world was a vast red, bigger and more cruel than the scene in his dream. The air was so hot that he couldn't breathe, his mouth only seeming to suck the hot flames into his lungs and ignite his body.

The terrible height and heat made Qi Leren dizzy. It was difficult to imagine a glacier here, because the glacier would quickly melt in his mind.

This hot land made up of hot magma was like being placed in a high-pressure boiler, extremely hot. Even if there was a distance of more than 100 meters from the magma beneath his feet, the heat was like a red soldering iron pressed against his skin.

It wasn’t just hot, it was a painful torment. Just standing here was like a desperate slug on an asphalt road, dried by the hot August sun.

Qi Leren gawked at the sight beneath his feet. This scarlet lake of fire was burning, and a few black rocky islands were baked in it... No, it wasn't all rocks.

One of the black, half-submerged shadows in lava was...

This scene overlapped with his dying dream—the black dragon slowly sank into the lake of fire, never to exist again.

Was it too late? Was he already too late?

Qi Leren's legs went soft and he knelt on the ground, his mind going blank.

There was another loud noise, and the magma spewing out of the lake set off a surging wave in the lake of fire, lapping against the black dragon's body. The dragon that had been lying quietly in the lake of fire moved, and Qi Leren also moved at the sight of it.

The black dragon raised its head and looked at the thick domed ceiling. Its claws extended from under the lave, slapped hard on the lake of fire’s surface, and then roared. In a flash, the whole underground lake shook crazily, and the whole world seemed to be turned upside down. The magma gathered into a tsunami and washed in all directions. The surrounding rock walls dropped stones that crashed into the lava, and the rock wall above them...

The dome of the underground cave, the top of which couldn’t be seen, seemed to be torn apart by the terrible power. Suddenly huge stones were falling, pouring down in a heavy rain that made the surface of this flaming lake more and more turbulent. It turned into a horrible hell where fire fell like rain!

The black dragon stood in the lake of fire, and the overwhelming burning stones lit up the dark underground world. It was angry, sad, and desperate, and countless negative emotions gathered in it, making it roar at the invisible sky—

The dome cracked, and the top of the underground cave was torn open by the violent force, so that a beam of light pierced the earth and fell into Purgatory.

It was light, not the burning flames of sulfur and magma.

Just after the light fell, a familiar call crossed the distance between life and death and came to its ears:

"Ning Zhou—!!!”

Maybe it was because of the light, or maybe it was because of this voice, but the furious black dragon suddenly quieted down. It stood quietly in the lake of fire, looking at the distant hole in the rock wall, which was brighter than the sun.

Amidst the bright holy light, a silvery white light like fine gauze slowly stretched out, just like a huge lotus flower in full bloom. In that light, there is a mirage of paradise at dusk, and countless hymns were played there, washing away one’s inner pain.

In this light, a holy angel with white wings fell from the cliff and fell from Heaven toward Purgatory’s lake of fire without hesitation.

The holy and elegant white wings fluttered gently. The warm and quiet power extinguished the raging flames burning on the lake of fire along the way, and the terrible suffocating heat dissipated with them, turning into a paradise in the light. The reflection of Heaven appeared on the lake of fire wherever he passed.

The holy angel landed on a black rock in the lake of fire, just in front of the dragon.

And the light falling from the broken dome just happened to fall on him.

The earth shaking world had subsided, the downpour of fiery rain had subsided, and the scarred black dragon had also subsided.

They stared at each other as if they were staring at their own souls. One was full of cracks that were on the verge of breaking, and the other was about to be pulled by despair into the abyss of Destruction.

It was at this moment that they were all redeemed by gentleness.

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The author has something to say:

PS: They finally meet again! This scene is ranked as the no.2 scene that I wanted to write in the second part. It should be more beautiful in my brain... I accidentally burst the word count OTZ, First explain the cause and effect clearly, and then start a sweet love ^_^

By the way, everyone should have guessed how Ning Zhou died before, right?

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Editor’s Notes: Double update today because I think this and the next chapter are best read side by side. Please continue on~

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[skidblast]

The Villains of Transformers.

This seems like a basic non-question. We got Unicron as the world-ending threat, and various incarnations of Megatron doing the rest of the job to keep the threat going. However, there is another angle to it.

Often we hear the phrase “write what you know”. Which seems simple enough, that you got experience with something that you can write it pretty true. But what does one know about mechanical aliens that have been fighting a war for 4 million years?

But the various writers of the Transformers franchise throughout the years have written what they know. There is an overarching threat in each one of the transformers incarnations that is different from the Megatron the Tyrant or the Planet-eating Unicron. It’s more like background noise, providing the constant that is happening, a crutch when writing.

Unfortunately I won’t be touching on Japanese produced media, I haven’t studied the history of Japan to know the nuanced details of culture background noise or incidental historic events to comment on Headmaster, Victory, RID2001, Unicron Trilogy and any other that I have missed.

I will also skip the Marvel, Dreamwave and FunPub comics/media as I’ve not read them. Cyberverse and the second IDW release are skipped as they are pretty recent additions. Rescue Bots and Rescue Bots Academy is skipped as well due to simplicity.

The main theme of the G1 cartoon is energy shortage. Cybertron is out of Energon, they flee Cybertron to find more energy. The Decepticons set up base on Earth because the humans have begun to harness the energy of their planet, allowing easy access to said energy and to ship it home.

This doesn’t come out of nowhere. In fact, most people have heard of the precursor in passing. The time when cars were lined up at the gas stations.

1979 was a bad shock for the oil market. Iran revolted, causing oil production to shrink a bit and caused panic, which in turned caused the prices of oil to rise dramatically. This was also the year where the Three Mile Island Accident happened, so people got vary of nuclear power. Gas rationing was discussed, and in some states actually implemented. Then recession hit in the wake of this.

The effects of the oil crisis and the following recession were still felt, so a cartoon about an energy crisis was very easy to write.

Beast Wars is an odd one to analyse. It came as the Transformers franchise was dying, and Hasbro was desperate to reinvent Transformers for the new kids. The appeal of cars turning into robots was no longer around, but making them animals was the push Hasbro needed to refresh the Transformers.

So we end up with the beginning basically rehashing the Transformers cartoon, but when the overarching plot hits, when the threads get revealed after a whole season of basically filler, we find the inspiration that the writers had. This time, it is not energy crisis, in 1996 we had put that behind us.

We have Megatron leading a team trying to restore the Decepticons as rightful rulers via time travel. We then discover he had actually gone against the so-called Tripredacus Council, the fractured Predacon Alliance who were biding their time and see the usefulness of what Megatron is trying to accomplish. In order to gain more power without breaking the peace made with the Pax Cybertronia, they use secret agents and secret police.

This is very familiar to a lot of people who haven’t seen Beast Wars or heard of it. This is Russia.

In 1991, the Soviet Union collapsed, and with that the Cold War ended. Peace was had. But as Russia threw off the communism ties from them, the ruling body still needed to exert control over the nation, and to broaden their influence beyond their borders. Russia went from Communism to Mafia-like control, using secret police, subtle threats and various other shady things. People saw what was going on, and with the new fear they were facing, they made it known in the media.

Beast Machines is a bit easier to figure out compared to its predecessor. It’s mostly because the message of Beast Machines resonates strongly today. 

Beast Machines came shortly after Beast Wars, as the toyline was trying to go away from the purely animal transformers and going for more mechanical look. But how do you really bridge those together?

At the tail end of the 80ies, environmentalism was on the rise. There was an undercurrent of that happening in Beast Wars, but in Beast Machines it had much more weight to it. With Megatron wanting to stamp out any biological influences from Cybertron, ready to eradicate any traces of it and mass-producing purely mechanical beings to repopulate Cybertron. While Optimus Primal was embracing the biological side of it, becoming sort of a guru through the Oracle.

The rise of industrialism is frightening prospect, seeing the nature retreat into near nothingness, and seeing the callousness of the industry just ignore it completely in favour for profits. But there was no denying that industrialism was there to stay, so while it is the main fear of the series, the message of the series was not to abolish it but to tame it, not let it out of control and make sure that the environment was put on equal grounds to it.

Animated is a strong reboot like Beast Wars was, coming at the same time as the Michael Bay films. Japanese production had taken over after Beast Machines finished, but Hasbro sought to retake the American market with media that they controlled. Importing Anime and dubbing it was all and good, but if they had complete control, they would have better chance to make it appeal to the market they wanted, the Western one.

It’s 2007. Following 9/11 the USA goes to war. And it is still going, with a certain hopelessness attached to it as people are getting more and more jaded by it. But most people never really felt the impact, only heard about it. There was no draft, there was no conscription. People joined the military, and those who came back came back either just a little bit off, or really suffering, and couldn’t get proper help.

Transformers Animated touches on civilians being basically forced into the war, against foes that were thought to be defeated long ago. It touches on the hardship of those civilians as they are part of it, feeling both the elation of being thought as heroes, and feeling the terror of the situation that they are in. A highlight of this is the episode Thrill of the Hunt, which came rather early, and touched on themes that are not common to see in media aimed at children, looking at Ratchet going too far, and suffering from some form of PTSD as well.

While the actual war had never visited the US or the spacebridge repair crew, the impact of it was felt on them, with all the horrors that entails.

Transformers Animated and first Michael Bay Transformers film came out on the same year. Yet the themes of the film series is far from what Animated did. One part of it is that Hollywood movies are more constricted as they have to appeal to a whole lot of audience in order to gain any return from the production cost. So everything is analysed in detail, making sure that nothing would alienate the vast majority of the Western World. We are in fact seeing it more obviously as China is growing stronger as a consumer market for Hollywood movies, and we see how the movies are made to appeal to that market as well.

So doing a commentary on the Afghanistan war like Transformers Animated did was out of the question. But it doesn’t mean that there isn’t a fear in the movie like in anything else.

Technology is on rapid rise. The rule of CPU power doubling every 18 months was still holding. New technology comes before anyone can really adapt to what had been introduced not so long ago.

The fear in the Michael Bay films is the rampancy of technology. We have severely advanced alien race make contact, and in fact made most of the technology based on one of them, found at the turn of the previous century. Technology that wasn’t even fully understood, that people thought they could easily control. But it goes out of control.

This concept is called Technological Singularity, where technology eventually becomes uncontrollable and we get swept up in the wake of it, having to deal with the new reality that we are no longer the masters of the world we are in. Grey Goo is one of the better known representation of this idea. Another is the idea of an overlord AI that either seeks to exterminate humanity, rule it with iron fist, or simply think of humans as we think of ants, insignificant.

IDW Publishing was on the scene two years earlier, in 2005. However given how long the first G1 iteration of it ran it gets mentioned after TFA and the movies due to that, allowing for Aligned continuity to come after it.

While TFA showed how the Afghanistan War impacted US citizens, who had not really experienced being at war while being so interconnected with the world and able to receive so much information, the IDW comics went for the other angle, the other fear that ruled in the USA at that time.

9/11. The fear of terrorism happening, the fear of foreign infiltration. The Decepticons had a plan on how the infiltration happened, every step of it planned, making sure that they could make the residents of the planet do most of the work of disrupting the peace, making it easy for them to swoop in and destroy the rest.

While things didn’t go as planned as the Autobots intervened pretty early, the Decepticons went public on full force, taking over New York City and almost dropped an atomic bomb on it. The connection to 9/11 is pretty hard to miss.

And then Phase 2 hits. James Roberts becomes one of the more interesting writers in the series. And this is where things go slightly off. James Roberts is more of a writer that knows what he’s writing about, instead of being influenced by current events.

And James Roberts has made known he has major interest in politics as he worked with politicians before picking up the pen for IDW Publishing. Write what you know, and James Roberts know politics, and political history.

In Phase 2 there is increased focus on the actual motivations behind the war. While Megatron Origins did go into how Megatron became the leader of the Deceptioncs, it was James Roberts that made it into the communism reflection that it became in the comics. It isn’t really some overarching fear in the background of the comics, it’s known quantity woven into the narrative of the comic.

Transformers Prime came in 2010, after Transformers Animated, seeking to remove the stylised aesthetics of the former toyline and try to be more like the movies.

And it wasn’t the only thing it changed. What was changed as well was the work that was actually put behind the actual lore of the series, making a true production bible that was used not for just the TV series but the accompanying video games as well, War For Cybertron and Fall Of Cybertron. And there was also a clear message along with that, this was a new continuity, new setting. Aligned, seeking to mesh together all the good from the various franchises into one good package.

But with all that background done on it, it’s easy to point out how Megatron went from a revolutionary to a tyrant and that would be about that. But it is not that simple.

What colors Transformers Prime is subtle and easily overlooked. In 2007 we experienced a dire financial crisis. Unemployment shot up, investments plummeted, there was no good safety net for people and a lot of them fell through the cracks. But these things are hard to really put into a show like this without it being explicitly about it. But there is another side effect of the recession that wasn’t that apparent in 2010, is more obvious now, but with the Transformers lore from the 1984 cartoon being similar, it blends into the usual Transformers noise.

Refugees.

Optimus Prime and his small team are simply refugees. Cybertron did run out of fuel, but the plots of harvesting energon and fighting over resources is more rehashing of the old cartoon plots. The focus is more on the Autobot team as they deal with being literal aliens in the US, escaping the tyranny that they fled. How they are treated by the locals, how they deal with the isolation of being in a culture different from theirs. They simply try to survive. Like how most people hit by the recession felt.

Robots in Disguise was released after Transformers Prime, going away from the expensive production and to more cheaper look. But with the so-called Aligned continuty having been a strong reboot of the “TV cartoons” series, Hasbro was in no hurry to abandon it, making Robots in Disguise a sequel to Transformers Prime.

Though with the war over, a new kind of threat had to be made. And Steeljaw steps into the role, not only as the main antagonist of the series, but as the representation of the fear theme of the series.

What isn’t really that obvious in Robots in Disguise is just how powerful Steeljaw is. Steeljaw isn’t just some generic Decepticon villain who escapes just so they can reuse his model instead of having to create even more Decepticons. He has fighting prowess, he is able to outwit the Bumblebee team. And the most dangerous weapons he has are his personality and voice.

Steeljaw is able to talk himself out of trouble. He has major ambitions, he knows what to do in order to recruit others. He wants power and respect, and if left unchecked, he will have it. And he knows that if there is some that he can’t convince, he can fight, and he will fight dirty.

Steeljaw represents a fear that people have experienced for a long time, but it wasn’t until recently that it really put into the spotlight. He is the abuser, the person in power that will make your life miserable. He antagonises Bumblebee and his team by causing them trouble, drive them off their safe haven of Earth and later drives them from their safe space, forcing them to go on the run. He finds power by leading a pack of Decepticons, then later by allying himself to the new council until he realises that he will not achieve his goals with him.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this massive post of mine.

[aewriting]

Loathly - Chapter 7

Good morning, everyone. For your enjoyment, here is Chapter 7 of my “Sir Gawain and the Dame Ragnell” Malex AU!  This is the big reveal, folks!

Here are all parts on AO3.

Warnings for homophobia, threatening situations, magical transformations.

***

Lady Guerin whirls around to face Alex.  He has never seen her like this before. Wild-eyed. Scared.

“Please, my dear sir,” she says, crossing to him quickly, reaching for his hand.  “Please, promise me that, whatever happens tonight, you shall wait until morning to take action.” She shakes her head. “I vow to you that I mean you no harm, that I shall inflict no physical damage upon you.”

“My lady,” Alex says carefully. He can feel her hand trembling. “You are frightening me.”

“I am frightened too,” she says, voice unsteady.  She twists her head around to look out the window. “Please, Sir Alex.  You have said that you care for me.  If, if that is indeed true, please give me this evening.”

Alex takes a deep breath. “I… I feel that I know not what I am agreeing to…” He feels off-balance, wary.  But Lady Guerin looks so desperate... “I promise,” he says.

Lady Guerin slumps at that, embraces him. “Thank you, thank you.” She releases his hand and crosses quickly to a large wardrobe at the far end of the bed chamber. She flings open the large double doors and begins pawing at the various silks, linens, brocades and furs.

“No, no…” she is muttering. “By the gods…”

“My lady?”

“All of my night things, my night things, that I brought with me…” she runs a hand nervously through her hair.

Alex frowns. “I… I believe your garments are most likely still in your private quarters.  If you like, I can send for – “

“There is no time,” she says harshly.  Her eyes alight on the nightgown that has been laid out for her for the evening, one befitting a royal bride.  It’s all silk and lace, and she eyes it warily.  “By all the gods,” she mutters, stalking over to the nightgown and grabbing it in her fist. Turning away from Alex, she unfastens her cloak and begins unlacing the neckline of her gown.

“My, my lady!” Alex exclaims, alarmed now.  “I… forgive me, but I thought I was clear about my… intentions tonight. Or, or lack thereof – “

“I… I know,” she says, distracted, fingers fumbling with the laces.  “You have been very clear.” To Alex’s relief, she has pulled the nightgown down over her head and is removing the rest of her garments underneath the nightgown, preserving her modesty as best she can. Her fine dress is in a careless heap at her feet and… well, that may actually paint a proper picture if anyone begins to question the validity of this marriage or its consummation…

“Sir Alex!” the woman exclaims, and Alex snaps to attention, meets her eyes.  “It is time,” she says simply, nodding to the window. “Stand back, and please…” her voice breaks. “Please remember your promise.”

Alex has barely opened his mouth to reply when it happens.

It is not gentle.

It is not ordinary.

It is not natural.

Alex watches, slack-jawed, as the Lady Guerin transforms.

All told, it cannot take more than a minute, but to Alex, it seems much longer.  He stares, helpless, as the woman’s body twists and shifts in bizarre ways… ways that should kill.  But the Lady Guerin barely makes a sound.  She seems almost… almost accustomed to this.  He can tell there is pain, though, with the way she is grimacing, with the way her face is twisting cruelly.

She, she asked him to stand back. He must stand back.

She made him promise not to fetch a guard, not to raise an alarm… not until morning.

And with a horrible realization, Alex knows, knows that this has been happening the entire time he has known this woman, since encountering her on the road.  All those evenings, he had attributed her early retreats to fatigue, modesty, disinterest or discomfort, even, while at court.  But that was not it.  She knew. And said nothing. This, this creature is his wife.

Does she mean to kill him? Harm him in some way? Alex rubs nervously at his right leg but cannot tear his gaze from the metamorphosis in front of him.  For… for that is what this is, he realizes. He has been so focused on the violence of the changes that he is only now realizing what the Lady Guerin is changing into.

Her nightgown has ripped. Multiple places.  The fine lace at the breast, the seams of the shoulders. For the Lady Guerin is… a lady no longer.

Alex steps back unconsciously. Where the Lady Guerin just stood, there is now a man.

That, that is not description enough, though.

This, this is a handsome man. By the gods, one of the handsomest men Alex has ever seen. Finely built, skin golden, as if he’s used to spending time out of doors.  Through the ruined gown, Alex can see his chest, see the muscle, the hair there. Not, not a pelt, like some men have, but not the smoothness of a boy, either.  Alex’s eyes narrow.  He looks to be about Alex’s age.  His face is very fine, crowned by unruly curls.  Alex narrows his eyes, then, leans just a bit closer, for it is the eyes that have him transfixed.

They are large, amber.  The same as Lady Guerin’s.

“This is sorcery,” Alex breathes.

And the man… the man just stands there in the ripped nightgown.  Stares at Alex with those wide eyes and stretches out his arms.

“Well, yes.”

Alex can hear his own heart pounding in his chest.  He has been to battle.  He has lived four and twenty years with his hateful father. But nothing in his life has prepared him to confront this, the black arts…

“What are you?” he asks, voice low.

The… man?  Creature? Sorcerer? He bites his lip a bit, and it is so like the Lady Guerin that Alex wants to scream.  “I’m Antarian.”

A shuddery gasp escapes Alex. “By the gods…” he mutters.  “This whole time,” he says, “this entire time?”

The man nods.

Alex glares at him.  “And now…?” He regards the man warily.  “Have you… have you been in my head?” The man frowns, opens his mouth as if to speak, but Alex barrels forward.  “Rummaged around? Seen, seen what I want? Exactly what I desire in a man?”

The man’s eyes widen, and for a moment he looks almost… pleased? Surprised? “I… no!” he says, louder than he anticipates, apparently, because he immediately looks to the door where they both know there is an armed guard.  

“Explain yourself at once,” Alex orders, mustering up every ounce of his military background and royal authority. “For while I have sworn an oath to the Lady Guerin, I have made no pledge to you.”

With that, the man sighs heavily. “The Lady Guerin and I are one and the same, Sir Alex.” He glances around the room.  “May I sit?” he asks, inclining his head toward a chair near the fire. “I intend to tell you everything, but first… I am sorry.” The man looks down. He appears genuinely contrite, and Alex… by the gods, Alex must keep his wits about him.  “I know that by concealing this from you these many months, I have deceived you. I… I had my reasons, which I will explain, but I am sincerely sorry, Sir Alex.  Truly, you are the last person I would ever wish to harm, and yet I know that my behavior has done exactly that.”

It is so… like something the Lady Guerin would say.  Even the way the man looks as he says it, Alex can see flashes of the Lady Guerin. Alex chews at his lip, regards the man carefully.  He did promise the Lady Guerin. If there is but a chance that this man is truly her, somehow…

“Here is what is going to happen,” he says, looking over the man, then looking away quickly.  “I will fetch you some… proper nightclothes.” He doesn’t miss the manner in which the man’s eyes flash at that. “And then we shall both sit by the fire, and you shall explain to me, in detail, how all of this came to pass.” The man nods.  “And at dawn, well, we shall see where we are.”

He can see some of the tension leave the man.  “Thank you, Sir Alex.”

***

It shouldn’t be having this effect on Alex, seeing the man dressed in one of Alex’s own nightshirts. They are nearly the same height, and their builds are not dissimilar. The man is almost maddeningly casual with his body, sprawling thoughtlessly on his chair, leaning forward now and then to stoke the fire. Alex, on the other hand, feels exposed, self-conscious, with his wounded leg on display and his nerves frayed.

“You are Antarian,” Alex finally says.  A statement, not a question. “What enchantments have you used to appear this way?”

The man stares at him for a long moment.  “This,” he says, bringing a hand to his chest, “is me.  My true form.” Alex tries to school his features, keep his face neutral and impassive. “The enchantment I am under is not of my own doing.” He peers at Alex.  “What do you know of Antar, Sir Alex?”

Alex leans back in his chair, looks at the man thoughtfully.  “There are… many rumors.  It is hard to find out anything definitive, what with the mists.”

“The mists, yes,” the man nods.

Alex has heard tales of those damnable mists as far back as his memory stretches.  They start just past the fabled Antarian hunting grounds where his father killed the stag. “Those who go in – “

“Don’t come out,” the man finishes, matter-of fact.

Alex’s eyes narrow.  “Why is that, exactly?”

The man stares at him a long moment.  “It is to do with the various… qualities.  Of Antarian blood.  Antarian ancestry. It affords us a way to navigate the mists in a way others cannot.” He must see the way Alex is staring at him, uncomprehending.  “We do not navigate the mists by sight.  We feel the way.  Any time we are in close proximity with another Antarian, there is a, how to explain it, a link.  A connection. A feeling. The more Antarians in one place, the stronger that feeling.  That is what pulls us through the mists. Directs us.” The man lifts his chin. “Would you believe that this is the most I have ever shared of Antar, the truth of Antar with an outsider?” He shakes his head.

“I have heard… different things,” Alex says, carefully.  “About Antar. According to some, it is a hellscape. Full of sorcery and black magic. Creatures that change form,” he says, looking pointedly at the man.  “They say the Antarians can read minds, take you over, make you do… anything.” Alex swallows nervously.  “They say the Antarians can control the elements.  Fire, water… It is said they can kill you with a glance, a touch.” He regards the man warily. “It is why my father guards the Antarian border so fiercely. Of all our neighbors, it is Antar that he fears the most.  I think that is the only reason he did not assemble troops against King Noah, after his threats.” Alex sees the man’s face darken at the mention of the Antarian king. “You… as Lady Guerin, you told me that you had troubles with King Noah.  Was that true?”

The man looks at Alex, stares right in his eyes.  “Everything I told you was true, Sir Alex.”

Alex nods, looks away.  Has to.  He glances at the fire.  “Others,” he says, clearing his throat, “tell a different tale. To them, Antar is a paradise. No war.  No famine.  Magic and powers, yes, but used for the common good. Harmony and peace and…” he falters. “Love.  Of every form.  I have heard that in Antar, it matters not if one is a man or woman, in the eyes of the law. Or the gods.” Feeling emboldened, Alex continues. “Morals are different there. Intimate practices, as well.”

The man looks thoughtfully at Alex for a long moment.  “It is somewhere between the two extremes.  As most things are,” he says with a smile.  It fades quickly. “Two years ago, I would have told you it was a paradise.  For to me it was. But I know now that not everyone had the same experience as I, and not everyone abided by the social contract we had so carefully constructed. And that left all of us vulnerable.”

“I do not understand.”

“I was cursed by the King himself,” the man says.  “That is why I am like this.  I, I angered him, uncovered certain truths about him.” He frowns. “You must understand, Antar is different from Unidos.  Even though the King was displeased by me, threatened by me, it would have been unheard of for him to kill me outright.” He eyes Alex.  “That is also likely the reason he did not kill your father straightaway when he poached the stag. Honor would not allow it. Riddles, though, deception and curses… such is the province of King Noah,” the man says bitterly.

The man seems lost in his thoughts for a moment, just staring at the fire.  His voice is low when he finally speaks. “I must be… careful. With my speech.  When King Noah cursed me, he was very clear that, should I reveal certain details of my enchantment to anyone, I would find the affliction to be permanent.”

Alex swallows nervously. “Go on.”

The man looks on edge again, his fingertips twitching against the cloth of his nightshirt.  “As I mentioned to you earlier, this is my true form.  My real face.  But as you know, this appearance cannot stay.  As my husband, you have a choice. You must choose whether I shall remain in my natural form, as you see it now, by day or by night.”

“I, I don’t understand.”

“I can only inhabit my true form for half the day.  Either by light of the sun or by dark of night.  With King Noah’s enchantment, it cannot be both. And per the curse, the choice is yours, my husband.”

“It’s why you pushed for marriage, that first day, out on the road…” Alex murmurs.

The man nods. “I, I knew I may not get a chance to modify the enchantment otherwise.” His head drops.  “But I did not expect you. Your kindness. Your wisdom.  Your wit.” A small smile plays at the man’s lips, but he quickly sobers. “But, per the laws of this land, you are my husband, and your decision stands.  Am I to be myself by day or night, my Lord?”

[mrneighbourlove]

Fall of a Dynasty: Ch 7. First Steps to Forgiveness

At Hyrule Castle, Athena was distracted by the architecture of the palace. It was so different than her homeland. “Manaco. Is King Covarog as beastly as people say he is?”

"That really depends on if my aunt is in the room." Manaco could not help but grin. "He can't keep his hands off of her for long, so say the servants. But if you're referring to his temper?" He grimaced a little. "Uncle Covarog can be... scary. For sure. Though he's not the one that can cut you down with a single look. That's my Aunt Zarazu. Aunt Zolori, on the other hand, knows how to insult someone in three different languages."

“Can he transform into a frightening beast like his father?” Griffith asked. “We have stories passed down from our mother that if we didn’t behave as children, the great and terrible Ganon would come in the night to rip and tear us apart.”

"I've never seen him turn into a beast like his father." Manaco admitted, "But then again, I've never seen him when he's lost control either. I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps he can, perhaps he cannot."

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be hospital towards us.”

"I'm fairly sure he's going to be surprised..." Manaco took a deep breath as the three of them approached the throne room doors. This was either going to be really good or really bad. He prayed that it would go smoothly, for the sake of Athena's homeland. Then, he opened the doors.

Athena and Griffith held their heads high, carefully walking in. Inside was a young red head girl, most likely twenty or so, talking with the Queen and King. She looked a tad wild, but still held a royal air.

"Luimaya, I have told you again and again, I don't want you doing such dangerous tricks on Carsa'sec, you could fall off." Covarog was not scolding his daughter, just expressing his concern. "He's not the most careful flier either."

"Daaad, Mom did those tricks when she was my age, why can't I?" Luimaya was getting rather tired of her father being so overprotective. "Carsa'sec has never dropped me! I've never fallen off!"

"She has a point, my love." Zarazu was trying to find middle ground. "If you feel so uneasy, we can always modify her saddle."

"...? Manaco?" Luimaya glanced at her cousin and then at the two Hasai. Zannah's kids, what were they doing here?

"Ah yes, I heard you were here." Zarazu turned her attention to the twins. "I am very surprised about the proposal you submitted, Manaco. Though, I am delighted that Athena accepted." She knew not of Bonegrinder's dealing with this, thinking it was predominantly Ralnor. "We shall be sure to attend the wedding."

Covarog, however, still held no love for Zannah or anyone born of Zannah. The Hasai had left a bad taste in his mouth for ages. No matter how hard he tried to mask it, there was still that underlying scowl on his face.

"They didn't come here just to extend an invitation, they're here to ask for something." Covarog stated. "What do you want?"

Athena took a deep breath. Time to put all her learning to the test. With a smile, she gave a bow. “Greetings. I am Princess Athena. Soon to be granted the status of Empress Athena of the Empire State to Hyrule.”

Griffith did his very best to not wince at that distinction. They’d soon bow to Hyrule. “And I am Prince Griffith. We’ve met Queen Zarazu plenty of times, but never King Covarog.” It didn’t take the man any time at all to turn on the charm. “And you must be Princess Luimaya. Queen Zarazu has mentioned your near legendary skill at riding dragons at such a young age.”

"Enough of the pleasantries. You two either wish to ask a favor or your mother sent you here in her stead to do her bidding. Probably the latter." Covarog scoffed. "This is about the civil war back in the empire, isn't it?"

"My king..." Zarazu's voice held a tone, asking him to be nice. "Please."

"... I already told your mother, we will not concern ourselves with a civil war that should be handled by the kingdom itself."

“Well, seeing that we are to become part of your kingdom, I suppose it’ll be your problem too.”

“What my Brother means to say, is that our mother wishes to have a strike force help her deal with the radical anarchists. She believes that our late Uncle Nihilus has returned from the dead. Is it not true that your father had to take the full strength of your Triforce to defeat him because he faced him alone? She wants a team to deal with him quickly before he can grow stronger.”

"I figured one day that her own people would turn against such a tyrant." Covarog did not like the idea of another fight. More lives could be in danger. Yet, if the prince was telling the truth, and Nihilus was back, then this would be a problem. He would have that bastard nowhere near his wife and children. "And my father crushed Nihilus like an ant."

"Perhaps I could handle this situation, my king?" Zarazu gently placed her hand on top of Covarog's. "You could take Luimaya to modify her saddle."

"... very well." Covarog stood from his throne and held his wife's hand, easing her up as well. "Put an end to this nonsense, my queen."

"As you say."

“Did you just call my mother a tyrant? Or my uncle?” Athena rose a hand to the King.

"They're both tyrants, princess. I hope you seek not to follow their paths in the future." Covarog glared at Athena, almost resembling his terrifying father in that moment. "My queen will deal with your situation, Manaco."

Exiting the throne room with his daughter, Covarog knew he would lose his temper and was grateful his wife could handle this stupidity.

"... Manaco, may I speak frankly?"

"Yes, Aunt Zar---I mean, my queen." Manaco had to keep up appearances in the presence of other royals.

"This situation is quite... unique." Zarazu descended the steps to the twins and her nephew. "I am a touch concerned about the return of this brother of Zannah's."

Athena and Griffith both swore at Covarog behind his back, with the former muttering under her breath. “Hope you get a heart attack.”

There attention turned to Zarazu, they both calmed their emotions. “Queen Zarazu. I know my mother has hurt both you and Covarog, but that doesn’t make her a tyrant. She wants to help our people. I want to help my people. She said that Rinku was a capable warrior who could help.”

"Rinku is older than myself and my king, princess. Even if you were to ask her, I'm sure she could not handle your uncle alone." Zarazu sighed, trying to find a way to say what was needed without further upsetting the twins. "I understand that there is history between your mother and my king. Yet, there is also how she hurt my sister and betrayed her trust. While I know you two are not your mother, I cannot held but have caution meddling in these affairs. Do you understand? I am trying not to be biased."

“We know. Will you help our people and the sanctity of a partnership our kingdoms hold, if not our mother?”

"... I want to help you and your people, not only because of this partnership, but also because they are not at fault for the actions of your mother."

Suddenly, Zarazu felt a large part pat on the back lerch her forward, despite the small weight Rinku held. “Who you calling old Queenie?”

Both the adopted elder princesses came by out of concern when they heard new Hasai were in the castle.

The queen jolted slightly when the hero suddenly appeared behind her. "You are old, Rinku." Zarazu responded dryly in good humor. "I'm old, your siblings are old. Ralnor is super old cause he's a grandfather now."

“What? Me?” Rinku fake frowned, her wrinkles pulling at her face. “Late Fifties and early sixties ain’t old. Just look at Leere.”

“Sis. You know I’m a special case right?”

“Anyways, who’s the asshat that needs taking down?”

"... Zannah's brother... Nihilus is somehow returned." Zarazu informed Leere and Rinku. "I don't suppose the snake will accompany you on this one?"

Both the elder princess’ grew stone cold faces, old memories opening up. “Ah... well, I suppose I better get the blade.”

As Rinku ran off, Leere examined both the Hasai, pressing them for answers. “Do you know if Nihilus was brought back by necromancy? How powerful is the body?”

Griffith shook his head. “Our Patreon god resurrected him.”

Athena murmured, angry at all the trouble this brought. “Maybe we should worship Vatra instead.”

"Exodrum is the cause..." Zarazu sighed, now feeling worried. "A deity involved in this doesn't give me the best outlook on this situation. Only another deity can take down another deity unless you have a way to trap this one."

Manaco then glanced at Athena when she mentioned Vatra. "... if you wish to speak to Vatra, I could take you to her temple."

Leere turned to Zarazu. “Well, you’re a Demi-god, right? All the spirits combined into one vessel.” The Princess patted Zarazu’s bicep to brighten her up. “I’m an expert on undeath. Maybe I can make him un-UN-dead?”

“And I can put down any evil with this.” Rinku had returned, holding the Sword of Evil’s Bane in her hand. The Master Sword.

"No, I am no deity nor demi-god," Zarazu shook her head, making sure to stay humble. "I am simply the connection between the Seven Siblings and their children. I am magic. That is all."

“Fine. You’re a sexy ass kicker.”

Athena nodded to Manaco before looking to the older women. “Would you all met my mother at Zizi’s then? We’ll return to you shortly.”

"We will come up with a plan to help your nation," Zarazu assured the prince and princess. "We will meet you there in an hour."

~

One enormous temple was dedicated to the Seven Siblings. Each spirit had their own shrine where offerings were placed or given acts of worship. Vatra's part of the temple held hundreds of burning candles and a statue of the spirit herself. The fiery sibling was composed of nothing but the hottest flames in a silhouette of a woman.

"Vatra is like Exodrum with flames, Athena," Settling on his knees, Manaco summoned his own flame and used it to light a candle. "But she does not deem who is strong and who is weak by the measure of their fire, but by their heart."

Griffith had gone on ahead, citing his reasoning is he didn’t want to anger Exodrum until after they killed their uncle. Athena got on her knees, fascinated by the culture. “As long as she doesn’t appear as a shark. That’s so fascinating Manaco. Is she a god of peace and of kind nature then?”

"Vatra is actually a goddess," Manaco held up at candle for Athena to light in respect. "She commands all fire, from the depths of a volcano to the simplest flame of a hearth. Not only does she encourage us to find our passion, but she also expects us to fight for or work for what we want. A fire by itself can provide beautiful light and heat, but if we are not careful and go ablaze, then it can also destroy. There is two sides to each spirit here. The tranquil... and the deadly."

Athena nodded, lighting the candle. Tranquil Vatra... and a deadly Exodrum? That was her own conclusion. “I wonder if she’d listen to me. I... I wasn’t kind to your gods Manaco. When I was injured, I cursed your gods because I thought your mother might have caused my accident to spite my mother. That your gods would have allowed that. I’m sorry for that anger.”

"In moments of anger, it is easy to place blame. While many accuse the spirits of unfortune, I promise you, they are very benevolent. I'm sure the spirits will forgive you if you ask for it." Manaco set her candle next to his. "Vatra listens to each and every prayer. While she might not grant every request of personal value, sometimes, she will listen to a just cause."

Athena gave Manaco’s hand a squeeze for reassurance, her green skin smooth against his hand. Closing her eyes, she made her pray. “Vatra. Goddess of Fire. Please hear my plea. I ask you to find it in your heart to forgive my mother of any sins. I ask that you look after us as we struggle in times of violence, and that we might come to live in the coming days. I plea to you to lend us strength.”

Manaco remained silent as Athena said her prayer to Vatra. He had thoughts of his own spinning through his mind. How could he be a good ruler? Would he be a decent husband? Children were to be expected, was he cut out to be a model father? There were so many expectations with this upcoming change in his life. Yet, he had admired Athena from afar for so long. Now, to have her at his side... it seemed like a dream come true. The young man silently prayed to Vatra that she help him with the events, whatever may rise, in the future.

Finished her pray, Athena took a few deep breaths. “After this morning, Im glad she didn’t appear, to be honest.”

"Heh... I suppose my uncle the king is not the easiest person to deal with." Manaco rubbed the back of his neck. "He's not so forgiving and can be quite intimidating." He then was quiet for a moment before asking, "What do you... think of this union?"

“I was referring to Exodrum to be honest. Your uncle is an asshole, not a terrifying apparition.” Athena took some time to reflect on that before answering. “I understand my duty to my people. An arranged marriage was something I never thought I’d go through. Once I passed thirty years of age, I honestly thought myself too old for marriage. With my mother not aging, I didn’t worry about continuing the line. But now, my future is so undetermined. It’s scary and sudden. I can’t help but feel I’m a pawn to your uncles. On the other hand, I have no experience with dating. I’ve never even kissed anyone. Now I’m expected to get married, led the Empire, and give birth?”

Athena set the candle down, playing with the flame using her abilities as a way to calm herself. “I suppose I can’t complain. My mother’s sacrifices were so much worse. And she gave my brother and I happy childhoods free from strife, something she never got. To be truthful Manaco, it took all I had to not strike your father. My mother had hurt his family and yours with her actions, but she was never a tyrant. She was always kind to other Hasai and changed a system of glory seeking warriors into simply survivors who lived and worked alongside one another. He insults my honour by insulting hers with the title of tyrant. A tyrant wouldn’t have given up her throne to help their children.”

"He can definitely be a jerk sometimes." Manaco agreed, knowing full well of the 'incident' of long ago when his father first courted his mother. He patiently listened to Athena's words. She had reasonable fears of the unknown. It was to be expected. Yet, to his surprise, there was nothing negative about him. Part of him thought Athena might not wish for this union due to the differences between the two of them. She did make good points about her mother, yet, he could also see Covarog's side as well. To his uncle, Zannah was the person responsible for Kanisa's strife and suffering. In his eyes, that made her a tyrant. "My uncle... he's not like Lorleidians, not at all. I think that's why my aunt makes such a good match for him." He spoke quietly. "I know of the good your mother did for her people. Yet, I also know of the... not so savory acts she committed against my family and relatives. There's a lot of tension and mistrust, for sure. I suppose from one point of view and then other, a person can be seen as two different sides of a coin." Manaco gently brushed a wild strand of hair from Athena's face. "Though, I swear before Vatra, I will do my best by you."

Athena didn’t move away as Manaco brushed her hair. The woman smiled at his smooth move, a light chuckle escaping her pillowy lips. “I look forward to that Manaco.”

"Though do you think you could do something about your brother constantly glaring at me?" Manaco chuckled sheepishly. "I feel like he's trying to debate whether or not if he could get away with killing me."

Athena grasped both Manaco’s hands with her left, then stroked his cheek calm with her right. “I’ll talk to him. We only have each other as siblings, so he’s always been protective of me, and I of him. I’ll make sure he decides against hurting you, alright?”

"Thank you. I don't plan on starting a fight with him, nor do I want to hurt him." Manaco smiled at Athena's light touch. "I just don't want to see you upset if I do have to kick his ass." He jested in good humor. "I think I at least have a fair shot, right?"

“Perhaps. Our mother did have us be trained by T0-D though.” Suddenly, Athena looked worried. “He’s still at the palace.”

"Oh... what do you think T0-D will do, then?" Manaco asked Athena, knowing the robot had served the Kikai Empire for years on end. "Is he going with your mother to Danjur? Or will he stay?"

“He has right to whatever choice he’d like. He’s been rather depressed though lately.”

"... depressed?" Manaco repeated, not sure he heard correctly. "T0-D is... sad? ... sorry, I'm not doubting your truth, I'm just... the robot is always so sassy. So sure of itself. I don't think I've ever heard of or even seen T0-D being depressed."

"... he did?" Manaco looked surprised now. "I didn't think he cared for my mother all that much..."

"He likes the people he forms bonds with before they inevitably die from aging." Athena picked herself up, taking Manaco's hand to lift him up from kneeling.

"I recall he was very sassy and liked to call humans by the title of 'meatbags'." Manaco rose from his spot in front of the shrine. "That's... really it. Hopefully when you and I return to the empire, he'll find a new purpose if we give him something to do."

"Well, we can't get him to stop calling people meatbags."

~

At the house, Zannah bandaged up her arms, thinking over Bonegrinder's council over and over and over in her head. Finally, she picked herself up from the second floor of the barn and jumped down the ladder to go to Zizi's house. When she saw Zizi sitting on her front porch and waiting for the other women to arrive, Zannah paused. She opened her mouth to speak the words, then closed them. "Zizi..."

Fifteen children, twenty-seven years old marriage, ten greenhouses, and fifty plantations in Hyrule... that was Zizi's legacy here. In the Kikai Empire, she helped rebuild the fields for healthy crops and earned the trust and respect of the people who lived there. However, ever since she found out about how Zannah used Kahli and betrayed her family, Zizi had not stepped foot on Hasai soil. Yet, she could not do anything about a particular someone coming here of all places.

Zizi was not one to snoop, but she overheard Zannah talking to the huge snake. Forgiveness was... hard.

"To start... I'm sorry for throwing a punch at you. Can I sit beside you?"

"... the seat is open."

Zannah took it, looking out over the land of Hyrule. "Did you and Kahli choose this hill top on purpose? It's incredibly pretty to lookout over the landscape. I don't often I get to relax. To simply be at a peace of mind."

"My sister gave this land to Kahli and I for our first anniversary." Zizi figured for now, she'd humor Zannah. "He built this house for me and our children. Then again, it is a bit crowded sometimes, we never expected fifteen children."

"Fifteen children. I can't even imagine. Tell me, does having a father in their life makes things better for them?"

"Is that a trick question?" Zizi mused. "Yes, Kahli did his best by them. Spoiled them a little, taught them a lot, and loved them immensely. What more could I ask for?"

"A trick question? No. My children never had a father growing up. By the time they had Annuciata in their life, they were already in their mid teens. And hell consume me if I ever dared to take inspiration from my own father. So no, I don't think you could ask for more than a loving family." Zannah smiled with a silent sigh in her energy. "Tell me. What was your own father like?"

"I'm beginning to think you're attempting conversation, Zannah, to throw me off guard." Zizi watched as the sunset caused streaks of purple, orange, and pink across the sky. "I met him a couple of times before he died, I guess. I haven't seen him in decades, so I suppose he's passed away. Drunkard, gambler, womanizer... probably a good thing I can't remember him. He wasn't in my life. My mother died before I met her. My only 'parent' was my sister, Zarazu. She raised me from a newborn, Zolori from the time she was five, and Ba'puu from an egg."

"My mother was a concubine. A tool I was aware of, but never allowed to socialize with. My father was a sick, genocidal old man- no, a monster. Because of him I never had a proper childhood. I didn't know what love was for a long time. I only knew that I didn't want to bring my children the same harm. I suppose that is why I thought it acceptable to sacrifice the friendship we had. I was just another offspring from the ballsack of another monster." Zannah relaxed her shoulders, finally getting to the point. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I can't change history to make you forget, or ask you forgive me. But I will say I'm sorry."

"... I never thought you'd actually apologize." Zizi told Zannah, not looking directly at her. "I just... don't understand why. Maybe I'm incapable of it. Or perhaps I really don't want to know the answer. It could even be that it's my nature. A Zemlja doesn't like to hurt people and I have a hard time understanding why humans like to hurt other humans. Though when I found out about it... that was the first time I truly wished to hurt someone."

"I never took pleasure in hurting you." Zannah smirked at her knuckles, still bruised from punching Zizi. "Well, not with my plans anyways. I just shut you out because I felt it was easier for the greater good. Be grateful you never had to think about what's best for thousands of people. I thought that I could live with the betterment of thousands over just two friendships I made. I can't change what I did. Or even go into full details of my rational. I'm just sorry I hurt you. I stuck a stake through our friendship without a second thought because I honestly didn't recognize how deep our friendship was. How important friendships can be."

"Even if you didn't take pleasure from it or had any possible reason that this somehow was the best for your people... you can't expect to become a great leader from the sole purpose of using those around you, Zannah." Zizi said quietly. "Not only does it hurt them, but it can hurt you as well."

"It's defiantly hurt me. But not my people... yet I'm not here sitting beside you because it hurt me or them. I hurt you Zizi."

"You did. But not only me, Zannah. You hurt Kahli too. You hurt my family. They all adored you... and that was broken in an instant."

"I didn't even know..."

"You do now." Zizi sighed before saying. "I don't think I can forgive you. At least, not yet. I'm not there yet. I can't speak for Kahli or my family. I don't know if I'll ever trust you again. But... the least I can do is try to get along with you for the sake of my son." She clasped her hands together. "I never knew Manaco felt so strongly for Athena to get involved so deeply like this, though all I want is for him to be happy. For them to be happy. And if that means tolerating you... then I can do that."

"Alright. Then how about we start with tolerance?"

"I believe we both can do that." Zizi snorted in jest. "You would have given Venu'sa a bellyache anyway."

"Wouldn't it be heartburn?"

Zannah looked to the right to see Rinku, Leere, and both her and Zizi's children return. It seemed Athena and Mancao ran up to catch up with the others.

To view his mother sitting beside of Zannah without trying to tear out the woman's throat was... unsettling. Manaco wondered what the two of them were discussing. Either this was really good or really bad. He hoped everyone would be keeping their heads after this.

"Mom?" Manaco approached cautiously, eying both his mother and Zannah. "We spoke to Auntie Zarazu and paid our respects to Vatra at the temple... she will give us a few hands, but due to political reasons and the treaty, she cannot go herself. A queen attacking Hasai citizens that she has deemed as allies, regardless of a civil war, might be viewed poorly by others."

Zannah kept her face neutral at seeing a Leere and Rinku approach. Despite varied histories and feelings towards them, they were both remarkable fighters. They’d serve their purpose. Standing up, she whistled for Bonegrinder. “I don’t know how many have sided with my brother, but we are assured a fight. I will face my brother with Rinku. We can kill him then. The rest of you will deal with the traitors. You can kill them or incapacitate them; I care not which.”

Both Athena and Griffith nodded, not questing their mother’s order to fight.

"You're going to be at a disadvantage." Manaco treaded the waters carefully, not really wanting to piss off his to-be mother-in-law. "Your brother has Exodrum. And Bonegrinder can't show himself to the masses."

"He'd risk exposing himself to his yet to find, greatest enemy." Zizi knew that while Bonegrinder would do what he could to help, fighting a full-scale battle was out of the question. "He has to be able to remain hidden until Luimaya takes the throne. The snake is picking and choosing his allies now. Hence, why he agreed to help you."

“Hence why we need to move quickly. Rinku’s blade can slay anything with an evil heart, including gods.”

The warrior princess gave a solemn nod to confirm.

"You won't be able to get to your brother directly, he'll have others in the way." Manaco asked, "How should we clear a path?"

Zannah turned to Zizi and Leere. “I trust you both are still power kegs of magic, even outside Hyrule?”

Leere gave a light sigh. “There’s going to be a lot of casualties, aren’t there?”

"Anywhere there is earth, I have my magic." Zizi did not like the sound of what Zannah was going to ask her. "What is your point?"

“Can you deal with the masses using your magic?”

"Deal with them... how?" Zizi inquired, wanting a straight answer. "If you want me to restrain them or trap them, that's different than... just killing them."

“Restraint. Athena and Manaco can deal with their fates after.”

"... and you are sure you can stop Nihilus?" Zizi looked at Rinku for an answer. "Dirt can smother a fire, yet... if a fire burns too hotly, it can consume everything."

“Last I checked he’s flesh and blood. And this blades cut through darkness, flames, and scales.” Rinku unsheathed a part of the Master Sword, the blade humming a low frequency.

"Kahli isn't going to like this..." Zizi sighed, knowing her husband would raise hell. "I'm going to go talk to him. Start packing what you need."

Zannah looked to her children, she looked to Manaco, and she looked to the sisters. When Bonegrinder slithered out, she took Zizi by the hand and pulled her along. “We’re all ready. Bonegrinder. A portal to my palace please.”

"Green lady, take heed of Bonegrinder's advice," The Anagari made a portal with his magic and then said, "Some deities are more so benevolent than others. If one does not listen to your plea... try another."

“We’ll see.”

As Zannah pushed a Manaco and Zizi through, Kahli was little too late to stop them or go after them. “Wait! Where the hell are you going?!”

________________________________________________________________

Previous Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/614950440660074496/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-6-bad-blood-needs-let-going

Next Ch. https://mrneighbourlove.tumblr.com/post/621742623013666816/fall-of-a-dynasty-ch-8-the-hardest-choices

Crossover with @ridersoftheapocalypse

[tabletibbletobobble]

Throwing Shade

“Wait so you’ve never even read a comic book?” Snow pressed her interrogation more intensely than she mean to.

Erica shook her head. “No,” she said softly, her eyes darting around at the trees around them. Snow didn’t know what to make of her. She seemed nice and responsible at school, but never interested in most subjects. And never with any friends.

“Well,” Snow paused, trying to find some middle ground with the girl she had met earlier this year, and was now somehow mystically destined to save the world with. “Movies! You like movies, right?”

“I guess,” Erica said with the least enthusiasm Snow had ever heard. “There was a really great documentary on The Amazon Rainforest I found online.” Erica uncomfortably rubbed her neck. “That was pretty great.” Erica’s gaze wandered away once more, before she shook her head and looked back at Snow, who was sitting on a stump near the creek. She was swirling the water with a long narrow stick, watching the wake of the current as it was broken by her movement of the branch. “What about you?” Erica finally asked.

“What about me what?” Snow looked back at Erica, who at this point had maybe twelve leaves in her hand.

“What’s your favorite movie? Or comic book? Or flower?”

Snow didn’t think she had ever been asked her favorite flower before. Sure, she liked flowers and aromatics, but a favorite? Snow thought long about it. But her mind quickly wandered to the last three weeks. That fox with the missing leg and eyes like an eclipse. The beautiful woman made of starlight and shadow. The magic stone that sat waiting in her backpack. The cool energy that she could feel on her fingertips. It was like she was a superhero, and this was her origin story. Except she’s spent most of it waiting for something to happen. Snow’s eyes met Erica’s for a brief moment, as if they were both just thinking about the same thing. About how things had changed, what had happened over the last few weeks, and what was about to. “Chrysanthemums,” Snow finally said. “My moms have them all over the house, and they’re really neat looking.”

Erica smiled wide. “I have a ton of Chrysanthemums, but I’m running out of space in my room, and the kitchen, and the dining room.”

“You really have a lot of flowers, huh?” Snow chuckled.

“Not just flowers,” Erica interjected. Her eyes lit up as she went on. “Tons of herbs, like rosemary and dill, a few cacti, a spider plant, some small palms, an aloe vera, and even a venus flytrap!”

“Wait, really?” Snow’s eyebrow cocked.

“Yeah!” Erica put her handful of leaves in her backpack and zipped it up. “My dad went to South Carolina on a business trip and came back with it. They’re supposed to be in warmer climates than this, but I have a heat lamp, so it doesn’t get cold.” Snow smiled, it was nice to see this girl come out of her shell, even if it’s only about plants. “Did you know that flytraps are actually a misnomer. They actually eat more ants than anything, but they’ll eat whatever they can. Even frogs!”

“Are you serious?” Snow had only seen them on tv, but apparently left out a pretty awesome fact.

“Well, small frogs, but still.” Erica laughed. It might’ve been the first time Snow had seen Erica laugh. She was always so distant. Even when meeting Sahiress, the Guardian of Earth, she was skeptical of her intentions. Maybe she saw something Snow didn’t. But for now, Snow was content with fighting bad guys and saving the world, so how sinister could this Guardian be?

“Do you think I could watch you feed it sometime?” Snow said, both curious and excited at the thought.

Erica nodded. “Yeah, definitely! But it ate like a week ago, and it hasn’t opened back up yet. It takes a while for them to digest fully.”

Snow looked at her phone, was it already six o clock? “Well let me know when it gets hungry. I should probably be getting home for dinner. Don’t you?”

Erica shrugged. “Dad’s in meetings all day and Mom’s working on a case late, so they won’t be home for a while.”

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” Snow asked.

“Oh,” Erica paused. “You sure your family wouldn’t mind?”

“My moms are cool, and they always make way too much,” Snow smiled, as she pulled her backpack on. “Besides-“

Her thought was interrupted by a fox sitting on the grass staring at them, maybe twenty feet away. The creature’s coat was a pale pink, from a distance it might be mistaken for a soft orange or red dirt. She was missing her front left paw, but there wasn’t an obvious wound. Almost like it has been surgically amputated. The fox’s eyes were a shimmering black, with white, glowing irises that spiked on the outside like a solar eclipse.

“Hi!” the fox greeted excitably without moving it’s mouth. “Is this a bad time?”

“Is something wrong, Mera?” Erica asked, her face curled into a frown of concern.

“Sahiress sent me. One of the shards showed up!” Mera jumped up and paced as she explained, seemingly through some sort of telepathy. “Are you guys ready to go?”

Erica nodded.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” said Snow, as soft features formed a wall of determination.

“Alright,” Mera said with relief. “Right this way!” As the sound of her voice entered Snow’s mind, a blue flash of light reflected on Mera’s eyes and a column of blue energy formed from the direction Mera was looking. Not an unfamiliar sight for Snow and Erica.

The two ran into the portal.

The other side was quiet. It looked like they were on the outskirts of a city and surrounded by construction equipment, unoccupied trucks and cranes, and the metal beam skeleton of a large building. The air around them felt filthy, like dirt had been kicked up around the site all day, and everything had just been put to rest. The early stages of sunset were becoming visible, and the smell of the polluted air contrasted heavily with the fresh breeze of the small town they had just come from.

But where was that shard? The two glanced around hurriedly when they both heard the footsteps coming from above them. A dark figure walked across the constructed steel beams, silhouetted against the blue and orange sky. Her long black boots echoing against the steel with each step. Her dark eyes looked down at Snow and Erica as she scoffed in disgust.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to come,” she said, her voice sounded tired and emotionless.

“Dris!” Snow exclaimed, as she and Erica pulled their Essence Crystals from their backpacks.

“I grow tired of these childish games we play,” Dris explained, sighing. “My king wants the rest of the shards.” Dris jumped forward, her slender form doing a forward flip before landing on one knee.

Superhero landing, Snow thought to herself.

“I’ll find out where you’re hiding the others, even if I have to beat it out of you.” Dris stared at them with expressionless gray eyes. A white bellowing cape flowed from her shoulders, held by a golden clasp at her chest. Her top was as black with a white belt above a black skirt. Her white gloves nearly reached her elbows, and a rusty metal bracelet hung loose on her left wrist. The symbol of the King of Rust.

Snow gripped her pale blue Essence Crystal tightly, as she felt the familiar cold breeze swirl around her. A layer of frost began to grip itself to her, covering her legs, arms, then her torso. It grew thicker and more opaque, before finally shattering. The dust of crystalline ice suspended in air, shimmering like starlight around her. Snow’s outfit was no longer the skinny jeans and blue denim jacket she was wearing, but a long blue cloak covering a frost patterned dress and matching boots. Wisps of frosty mist licked her shoulders and hands as she took a defensive stance against this enemy. From where her crystal was in her hand, a long staff appeared, with a blue stone weaved into the design of the head.

She looked over to see a shower of pink and green petals burst off Erica as her outfit also transformed. Where there was once a pair of yellow overalls, there was a forest green blouse and skirt with matching gloves. The collar was a waterfall of pink and yellow petals, with a pink lace seemingly holding it all together. The bottom of her skirt looked like a garden in bloom, with pink and yellow petals lining the skirt. She was holding a large wooden club, artfully crafted with a mossy handle.

The two looked at Dris with a heart full of vigor. But Dris simply looked up at them and smirked.

“What are you smiling at?” Demanded Erica, as she readied her weapon for battle.

“Yeah, we kicked your butt last time we met,” Snow added.

“Perhaps,” Dris said flatly. “But last time, I was outnumbered.” Before Snow could think what that meant, she felt a blast of force take her off her feet. She looked up to see what looked like a bear, but made of a featureless black, shadow-like material. It roared at Snow, only to see it joined by a slightly smaller, wolf-like shadow monster. She looked over to see Erica, also surrounded. To her left was a squatter animal, more reptilian with a massive jaw. Either a crocodile or alligator. Behind her was what looked like a gorilla. The reptile snapped at Erica as she dodged a blow from gorilla.

Snow looked over at Dris. She had a jet-black hawk on her arm. With two heavy flaps of its wings, the bird took off. Snow could only guess it was looking for the shard. She dodged the bear as it took another swing with its massive claws. Instinctually, a burst of freezing air shot from her staff. The bear recoiled in pain, as the wolf tried to bite at her feet. Snow jumped back, tripping on her own feet. She landed bottom first with a painful thud. From between the monsters, she could see Erica having troubles of her own. The crocodile was wrapped in a thick layer of vines, growling in pain as the plants grew thorns, but the gorilla was too big and too fast. As Erica swung her weapon, the creature batted it away like a fly, putting Erica too on the defensive.

“This isn’t working!” Erica shouted over the roars and shrieks of the shadow creatures.

“No kidding,” Snow answered back. “We need a plan. Form up!” Without a word, Erica sidestepped the gorilla and joined Snow’s side. The three remaining creatures closed in on the two of them; the crocodile continued to gnash and growl as the vines barely held together.

A large wingspan spread above them as the hawk returned, clenched in its talons was a large silver-gray rock, shimmering in the remains of daylight. Its shape was similar to the other hedron shards they had recovered so far, this one slightly thinner. “We can’t let it get to Dris!” Snow yelled. “After it, I’ll keep these guys busy.” As the words left her lips, the crocodile broke free, snapping its massive jaws in their direction. Snow instantly regretted her plan. She concentrated hard, her eyes closed and blue light emanated from her palms. Five crystals of white ice appeared between her and the beasts. She could feel the brisk air coming from them as intense as a heat from a flame. Mist surrounded Snow as the crystals began spinning around Snow. She felt like an atom, as electrons circled her, gaining speed. She gripped her staff tight and took a step forward. The bear was the first to swipe, but spinning ice slammed into its claw. The bear recoiled. In turn each monster attacked and was rebuffed by the crystals and cold.

She could hear Dris’s cries above the whirling and roars. She could see the bird had fallen to the ground between Erica and Dris, the shard still in its claws. Erica and Dris’s eyes met for a brief moment before they both took off running, Erica gripping her weapon tight. Snow noticed a green light coming from the spaces between Erica’s hand and the club as Dris suddenly fell forward. She looked behind herself to see a small vine wrapped around her ankle. Dris yelled in frustration as a shiny black sword materialized in her hand, as she cut the vine in a single motion.

But it was too late. Erica held the shard triumphantly as Snow ran to cover her with her icy shield. “We’ve got it,” Erica whispered into her Essence Crystal. The shadow creatures and their master all charged at them as they were engulfed in a brilliant blue light.

“Next time you won’t be so-“ Dris’s threat was cut off by their transportation. When the light faded, they found themselves in front of a familiar cave, as a creature made entirely out of the night sky smiled at them warmly.

“Welcome back,” she said quietly.

[captainfangirlll]

GENDRY-ARYA-PODRICK FANFIC

First time and my native languaje is spanish, so I gonna put it in the two languajes, sorry if my english is no that good, first i will upload on spanish and then it goes on english. 

ARYA

El sonido de las espadas resonaba por todo Winterfell, hacía una semana que habían vencido el ejercito de los muertos, una semana desde aquella noche, que cambió su vida para siempre, todos la adoraban o querían estar con ella, todos le preguntaban como había logrado vencer al rey de la noche, pero simplemente ni ella lo sabía, todo fue tan rápido y la adrenalina y sangre caliente bajo al instante que todo quedo destruido, se seguía sintiendo normal, pero claro no lo era, era raro que fuera un lugar sin que alguien quisiera estar con ella, hombres hablando, jovenes coqueteando, cuando antes apenas la miraban, todos eran unos hipocritas -pensó-, ella solo apreciaba a los que habían estado con ella desde antes, su familia, El Perro, Brienne, Gendry... Gendry, era el único que no se le acercaba como los otros, simplemente la abrazo luego de la batalla como aliviado y luego se enteró que ella había matado al rey de la noche, y no había vuelto a saber de él, es posible que él ya no quisiera saber nada de ella, ya no era la niña inocente que conoció y eso quizás le aterraba.

- ¡Arya! ¡ARYAAA! - Brienne de Tarth se acercaba con una gran sonrisa, era de las unicas personas que no la trataba diferente porque sabía de lo que era capaz, Arya se acerco y de repente visualizo su gran espada, la que antes había sido de su padre, y ahora era suya, pero no importaba poeque era Brienne y las protegía.

- Lady Brienne. - Lady Arya. - Ambas rieron, ya que ambas odiaban ser llamadas así - - No creas que por haber matado al rey de la noche ahora eres imbvencible, puede que haya sido un golpede suerte - Arya sonrió - - Bueno si puedo vencerte a ti el rey de la noche no fue ningún problema. - Brienne sonrió y empuño su espada - - No estes muy segura de eso.

Ambas comenzaron la pelea y por primera vez en semanas, Arya se sintió ella otra vez.

ARYA

The sound of the swords resounded throughout Winterf ell, a week ago they had defeated the army of the dead, a week since that night, which changed her life forever, everyone adored her or wanted to be with her, everyone asked her how she had achieved beat the Nigth King, but simply she did not know it, everything was so fast and the adrenaline and hot blood erased the moment everything was destroyed, she was  feeling herself normal, but of course she was not, it was rare that it was a place without that someone would want to be with her, men talking, young man flirting, when before they just rarely looked at her, they were all hypocrites, she thought, she only appreciated those who had been with her before, her family, The Hound, Brienne, Gendry. .. Gendry, was the only one who did not approach her like the others, he simply embraced her after the battle as if he was relieved and then learned that she killed the night king, and she didnt hear from him again, it is possible that he wouldnt  want to know anything about her anymore, she was not the innocent girl he met and that perhaps terrified him. -

 Arya! ARYAAA! - Brienne of Tarth approached with a big smile, was one of the only people who did not treat her differently because she knew what she was capable of, Arya approached and suddenly visualized her great sword, which was her father's, and Now it was hers, but it didnt  matter because Brienne protected her and Sansa or at least she try

. - Lady Brienne.

 - Lady Arya. - Both laughed, since they both hated being called like that - 

- Do not think just because you killed the  night king now you are imbvencible, it may have been a stroke of luck - Arya smiled -

 - Well, if I can beat you, the nigth king obviously was not a  problem. - Brienne smiled and wielded her sword - 

- Do not be too sure about that. They both started the fight and for the first time in weeks, Arya felt herself again.

GENDRY

Winterfell había cambiado mucho después de la batalla, muros caidos, quemados, armas regadas, había terminado de recolectarlas todas luego de la batalla, recuerda haber estado en panico después de encontrar el arma de Arya junto a muchos cadaveres, pero después la encontró junto a sus hermano Bran y no pudo evitarlo y corrió a abrazarla sintiendo el alivió de sentirla viva, pero ella no dijo nada, estaba en shock y cuando Bran anunció que ella había matado al rey de la noche, todo mundo perdió la cabeza, Jon quería saber como, Daenerys de repente se habiá interesado en ella, Lords, Ladys, y le hervía la sangre de pensar en los jovenes con títulos, caballeros y guerreros todos tras ella, pero ella siempre mantenía el mismo semblante, callado, serio, como si no tuviera sentimientos que mostrar, los había visto, destellos de ellos con él... el día que se rió cuando la llamo su lady, o la noche antes de la batalla, pero nunca como cuando estaba con Jon, él era el único capaz de transformar a Arya, pero él era su hermano, su sangre ¿Por qué él sería diferente a  los otros? ¿Por qué lo querría ahora que puede tener a quien quiera? ¿Por que querría a un bastardo? no se había acercado a buscarlo luego de su reencuentro después de la batalla, quizas ella solo lo había usado antes de la batalla para obtener lo que quería y ya, pero jamás se lo tomaría enserio. De repente sintió un nudo en el estomago y dificultad para respirar, necesitaba salir de la fragua y descargar la ansiedad con unos cuantos golpes a su martillo, así que salió.

Cuando iba llegando a la zona de entrenamiento, la vió luchando espada a espada con Brienne, feliz, llena, como si no existiera nada más que el choque de espadas entre ellas.

GENDRY

Winterfell changed a lot after the battle, fallen walls, burned, watered weapons, he finished collecting all of them after the battle, he remember he was in panic after finding Arya's weapon next to many dead bodies, but later he found her next to Her brother Bran, and he couldnt not help it and ran to hug her feeling the relief of feeling her alive, but she said nothing, she was shocked and when Bran announced that she  killed the nigth king, everyone lost his head, Jon wanted to know how, Daenerys had suddenly become interested in her, Lords, Ladys, and he feel angry just thinking on the young men with titles, knights and warriors all after her, but she always kept the same face, quiet, serious, as if hadnt any feelings to show, he had seen them -thougth-, flashes of them with him ... the day he laughed when he called her his lady, or the night before the battle, but never like when he was with Jon, he was the only one  able to transform Arya, but he was his brother, his blood. Why would he be different from the others? Why she would want him now that she can have whomever he wants? Why would she want a bastard? she had not come to look for him after their reunion after the battle, maybe she had only used him before the battle to get what she wanted, but she would never take him seriously. Suddenly he felt a knot in his stomach and difficults to breath, he needed to get out of the forge and unload the anxiety with a few blows to his hammer, so he left. When he was arriving at the training zone, he saw her fighting sword by sword with Brienne, happy, full, as if there was nothing more than the clash of swords between them. 

ARYA

La lucha había terminado, Arya había sorprendido a Brienne haciendola tropesar y poniendo la daga en su cuello, de repente escucho a alguien aplaudir, se levanto y visualizó al salvaje pelirrojo amigo de su hermano que ultimamente había estado pasando tiempo con Gendry.

- A eso es lo que llamo belleza femenina. Subestime el sur, tienen buenas guerreras. - Recorrio a Brienne de pies a cabeza - y muy bellas. ¿No es cierto Podrick?

Arya visualizo al escudero de Brienne, no se había percatado que había estado viendo la batalla todo este tiempo.

- ¿No te da verguenza chico? Que estas dos peleen mejor que tú. Seguro la pequeña partiría tu trasero antes que puedas decir Verga. - Dejalo en paz. - Saltó Arya, había algo en ella que la hacía proteger a los más debiles - Sobrevivió y peleo en la larga noche. Creo que aguanta más que eso. - Veamos - Dijo Brienne sonriente -

Podrick tomo su espada con la mano temblorosa y envistió a Arya, ella dio una vuelta rapido y pincho su mano con agua, lo que ocasionó que Tormund estallará en risa.

- Levantate - insisitió Brienne, y Podrick lo hizo, Arya volvió a vencerlo, pero esta vez fue hacia el y le brindó su mano para que se levantará. El titubeo como si no fuera digno y Arya puso sus ojos en blanco y solo tomo su mano para levantarlo.

- No te sientas mal, lo que yo hago es la danza del agua, no te han entrenado para defenderte en esto, pero puedo enseñarte.- Podrick dirigió su mirada a Brienne en señal de aprobación y Arya rio internamente, Brienne aprobó. - Esta bien, practiquemos equilibrió, vas a estar 10 minutos sobre tus puntillas al borde de esta roca de acá. - Podrick hizo una cara de espantó y Arya no pudo evitar reirse en voz alta, le recordaba mucho a sus primeras lecciones con Syrio Forel. -

ARYA

The fight was over, Arya had surprised Brienne by tripping her and putting the dagger in her neck, suddenly heard someone applaud, got up and visualized the wild redhead friend of his brother who had been spending time with Gendry lately.

- That's what I call female beauty. Underestimate the south, they have good warriors. - He saw Brienne from head to toe - and very beautiful. Is not that right, Podrick?

Arya visualized Brienne's squire, she had not realized she had been watching the battle all this time.

- Are not you embarrassed, boy? these two fight better than you. Sure the little one would break your ass before you can say Cock.

- Leave him alone. - Arya said, there was something in her that made her protect the weakest -  He Survived and fought in the long night. I think he can holds more than that.

- Let's see - Said Brienne smiling -

Podrick took his sword with a trembling hand, she took a quick turn and punch his hand with needle, which caused Tormund to burst into laughter.

- Get up - Brienne insisted, and Podrick did, Arya beat him again, but this time she went to him and offered her hand so that he will get up. He hesitated as if he were not worthy and Arya rolled her eyes and just took his hand to lift him.

- Do not feel bad, what I do is the water dance, you have not been trained to defend yourself in this, but I can teach you.- Podrick turned his gaze to Brienne in approval and Arya laughed internally, Brienne approved. 

- Okay, first we practice balancing, you'll be 10 minutes on your toes on the edge of this rock here. - Podrick made a scared face and Arya could not help laughing out loud, it reminded her so much of her first lessons with Syrio Forel. -

GENDRY

No sabía pOrque pero sentía calor en el pecho. Al verla reír y convertirse en esa Arya que solía conocer pero no con él, no le molestaba cuando la veía de esa manera con Jon, pero ahí estaba ella, riendose y comportandose como la vieja Arya con el escudero de Brienne de Tarth, la había visto interactuar con otros Lords y caballeros, pero ella no había mostrado interes, sin embargo con él... estaba a punto de clavar su martillo en un pedazo de tronco cuando escucho a dos doncellas reir.

- ¿Es ese? - Shh si, callate. - Pero esta con Arya Stark, no podemos contra eso. ¿Es verdad lo que dicen de él? Gendry no pudo evitarlo e interrumpio la conversación. - Perdonen la intromisión ¿Pero que pasa con Arya Stark? - Con ella nada, es el escudero de Brienne de Tarth el que nos inquieta. - ¿Que con él? - La chica reviso su alrededor para verificar que nadie la escuchara - - Dicen que una vez en Kings Landing Lord Tyrion lo llevo al burdel y las golfas regresaron el dinero por lo satisfechas que estaban. Te imaginas - Gendry puso los ojos en blanco - - No importa igual, está con Arya Stark si ella es inteligente aprovechará sus beneficios - Gendry sintió su cara hervir, de repente Podrick cayo de la piedra donde estaba haciendo equilibrio y Arya le dio la mano una vez más, esta vez el la acepto con gusto pero justo cuando recobró el equilibrio Arya lo hizo caer y se avalanzo sobre él con sus piernas y puso la daga en su cuello. -

- Leccion 1, nunca confíes en tu oponente. - Si que eres un chico afortunado - Dijo Tormund y Podrick se puso rojo como un tomate-

GENDRY

He didnt know why but he felt heat in his chest. Seeing her laugh and become that Arya he used to know but not with him, it did not bother  when he saw her that way with Jon, but there she was, laughing and behaving like old Arya with Brienne of Tarth's squire, He already saw her  interacting with other Lords and knights, but she didnt shown any interest, however with him ... he was about to stick her hammer into a piece of trunk when  heard two maidens laugh.

- Is him? - Yes, shut up. - But is with Arya Stark, we can not against that. Is it true what they say about him? Gendry could not help it and interrupted the conversation. - Forgive the intrusion. But what about Arya Stark? - With her nothing, it is the squire of Brienne of Tarth that disturbs us. - What with him? - The girl checked around to verify that nobody was listening - - They say that once in Kings Landing Lord Tyrion took him to the brothel and the golfers returned the money for how satisfied they were. You imagine... - Gendry rolled his eyes - - It does not matte, hes with Arya Stark if she's smart she'll take advantage of his benefits - Gendry felt his face boil, suddenly Podrick fell from the stone where he was balancing and Arya give her hand to him once more, this time he accepted but just when he regained his balance Arya made him fall and bounced on him with her legs and put the dagger on his neck. -

- Lesson 1, never trust your opponent. - Yes, you're a lucky man - Tormund said, and Podrick turned red as a tomatoe-

ARYA

La risa no dejaba de salir, es como si estuviera con Hotpie, Gendry y Lommy riendo otra vez, de repente lo visualizó... era él. Gendry parecia molesto, pero estaba hablando con dos jovenes hermosas, con vestidos y cabello trenzado, Ladys normales... de repente tomo su martillo y se marchó con ellas, Arya sintió un nudo en el corazón, pero lo alejo y no se permitió sentirlo más "Toro estúpido" susurro para ella, y siguió con el entrenamiento.

ARYA 

 The laughter kept going, it's like she was with Hotpie, Gendry and Lommy laughing again, suddenly she visualized ... it was him. Gendry seemed annoyed, but he was talking to two beautiful maidens, with braided hair and dresses, normal Ladys ... suddenly he took his hammer and left with them, Arya felt a knot in the heart, but he pulled away and did not allow herself to feel it, "stupid bull" whispered to her, and continued with the training.

Let me know if the english was rigth, and if you wanna more said it! I can do the second part, it deppends on the loves and reblogs if someone can do a better translation tell me😂😭

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Folklore Friday

Here it is! The conclusion of the Puss in Boots adaptation! It went longer than expected, I originally thought it was going to be a one-shot.

In the castle on the hill there lived the Filthy Great Ogre. (He did not, as the name might suggest, have any particular aversion to bathing, although his table habits were indeed atrocious. “Filthy Great” was merely a polite -- as ogres go -- combination of a title and an honorific to indicate that the ogre was of some noticeable status. The problem was that the Filthy Great Ogre had not come by his title through any sort of proper channels, and had rather bestowed it upon himself on a whim and then ceased paying taxes.)

“But wait,” one might interject, “Don’t ogres live in swamps?”

Some do, of course, but it would be silly to assume that all ogres live in swamps merely because of a few well-documented individuals. And in fact, an ogre might just as well ask “But wait, don’t humans live in villages?” if faced with a castle or a city or a cottage in the woods. Disregarding even that, it is a very foolish thing anyhow to tell an ogre where he may or may not live.

And yet the cat was intending to do exactly that.

Getting into the castle was no more difficult than infiltrating the king’s palace had been, and soon enough the cat was prowling the halls. He found the Filthy Great Ogre in his bedchamber, picking his teeth with an unpleasantly unidentifiable bone. Now, the cat was never one for going into a situation without the advantage, and he had gathered as much information on the ogre as he could from the peasants on his way up. As it happened, this particular ogre possessed some natural skill with magic. Instead of using it to prosper his lands or fix up his castle or give himself something to wear other than ill-fitting satin and taffeta, he used it to transform himself into animals. Which is a perfectly valid use of magic, and often very practical, especially if one wishes to do some spying. But the Filthy Great Ogre really only used it as a party trick, usually right before eating the party.

Upon noticing the cat, who had not been taking any great pains to hide himself, the ogre worked up a very unpleasant belch and sat up.

“You,” he said, “Are quite lucky you’re a cat, or I might eat you.”

“Don’t you eat cats, then?” asked the cat.

“Oh I never eat an animal I can turn into,” answered the Filthy Great Ogre, “It’s a professional courtesy.”

“Have you never turned into a human, then?” the cat pressed.

The Filthy Great Ogre squinted at the cat and frowned. “Now why would I want to do that?”

That cat supposed that was a fair answer and he shrugged. Then, with a sweeping bow and an elegant twirl of his hat, the cat began to spin some wild tale about having traveled from far away to see if the rumors of the Filthy Great Ogre’s immense powers were true. The ogre was flattered, and quickly revealed to the cat by his reactions that he was not the sort of castle-dwelling ogre that comes with any particular modicum of common sense. After all, if a traveler comes to one’s door and says they have come from far away to see whether rumors of one’s talents or looks are true, the proper thing to do is wonder just what sorts of stories are circulating and to be wary of the stranger. Particularly if their accents suggests that they have only come from one county over.

But evidently none of this occurred to the Filthy Great Ogre. He demurely agreed to demonstrate -- which, in its truest sense, would have meant that he was being meek and humble, but this is the Filthy Great Ogre, and he was nothing of the sort, thereby rendering “demurely” a somewhat facetious adverb in this case -- and left his chair with some difficulty. But that was his own fault for wearing starched taffeta pantaloons, wasn’t it?  

“For my first trick,” the ogre announced, and then he transformed himself into a lion and roared.

This would have been frightening enough on his own, but the lion was also wearing starched taffeta pantaloons. The cat, who -- despite not wearing pantaloons of any sort himself -- thought he was quite the expert on fashion, found this just as terrifying as the deafening roar.

“Truly,” he said, “The legends did not exaggerate your magnificence!”

And any time someone makes a remark of this nature, that is usually an indication that one is about to be tricked, or robbed, or set upon by vengeful dwarves. But as previously mentioned, the Filthy Great Ogre was not possessed of enough common sense to understand that there was more to the well-dressed feline than base flattery.

“I wonder,” said the cat, who now had an excellent idea that did not involve the tedious use of claws, “What is the largest thing that you can transform into? Can you become a dragon?”

“Someday, I’m certain,” answered the lion, “But I have not seen one in person yet, which does sort of make getting the proportions right a little tricky.”

“Oh!” The cat was now very interested, plots aside. “How fascinating! So then, what is the largest animal you’ve seen?”

“Observe,” said the Filthy Great Ogre, and he twisted and turned until he had become a bear in a silk vest and starched taffeta pantaloons. This time, the clothing sort of detracted from what ought to have been a very intimidating spectacle.

Cajoling and questioning by turns, the cat convinced the ogre to change several more times. When he asked for something stubborn, the ogre became a bull. When he asked for something beautiful, the ogre became a warthog. Which is perfectly fair, because beauty is fairly subjective. However, when the cat asked whether the ogre might change into a bird, he was presented with a large and somewhat aggressive goose. Though he lacked common sense, the ogre was not stupid: he wasn’t going to change into the kind of thing that he knew cats hunted.

“Oh I am in awe, simply in awe!” The cat applauded, which made hardly any noise at all with his soft little paws, but the gesture was nonetheless appreciated. “I wonder if- no, nevermind, that’s foolish.”

“What is?” asked the ogre, who was beginning to forget himself in his desire to show off.

“No, no, pay no attention to me,” the cat demurred, “I shouldn’t like to inconvenience you with something that may be too difficult.”

Feeling a little insulted, the ogre demanded to know just what, precisely, the cat was talking about. There was no animal that he could not turn into, provided he’d seen it at least once! When he said as much, rather sullenly, the cat bowed again and spoke in a soothing voice.

“I meant no offense, of course,” he lied through his whiskers, “I just thought perhaps changing into something very small might not be part of your powers.”

Of course, now his honor had to be upheld. At first, the Filthy Great Ogre considered changing into a mouse, Then he decided that this would not do at all. What if his fancy little flatterer should become hungry and forget himself in favor of his instincts? Better to avoid rodents entirely, he decided, and so he scoffed proudly and transformed into a little ant in badly-fitting clothes.

The ant promptly met a swift and brutal moral about the dangers of listening to flatterers in the shape of a boot heel.

The cat then made his way through the castle, warning every servant he could find that they would meet their master’s fate if they did not do precisely as he commanded. Which meant that the place underwent a very rapid cleaning in a very short amount of time while the cat coached the servants on the story they were to tell any guests.

No more than two hours later, the carriage of the king, Princess Elsie, and poor, confused Tobias arrived. Having heard from everyone they passed that these were the lands of the Marquis of Carabas, the king was very curious to see where his young guest lived. Tobias, meanwhile, found himself in the position of presenting a bland and pleasant face to the king and eldest princess while screaming very loudly on the inside of his head.

“It may be a bit out of sorts,” Tobias said hastily, trying to think of what the cat might say in this situation, “I’ve only just come into the area to stay. We haven’t even set up payment of taxes yet!”

“Oh!” said the king, “You know, I’d wondered. Well well, moving is always a hassle. I’d be happy to help you get things started.”

Tobias was only too quick to agree, if for no other reason than he hadn’t the slightest idea how a nobleman paid his taxes. Neither had he any idea what was going to be waiting in that castle, or where the cat was. This led to the formation of a backup plan in which he would wait until the king and princess were distracted should the castle be a trap, then leap out of the carriage and run for his life. He could probably join a traveling circus after that, if he needed to earn money.

As it turned out, there was no need to join the circus after all. The cat greeted them at the gates, now wearing a silk vest so large that he had belted it and was wearing it like a tunic.

“Ah, welcome, welcome!” he purred, “Do excuse my running ahead, I had to make sure the servants had unpacked enough tableware for guests.”

Princess Elsie stepped gracefully out of the carriage and turned to offer Tobias a hand down. “Careful,” she warned with a smile, “Papa’s shoes are a bit large for you. It wouldn’t do to trip.”

“No, I don’t suppose it would,” Tobias agreed.

Dinner was a slightly awkward, but fairly informal affair, and though the king did make an offhand remark about the castle smelling of troll, he seemed to think that the “Marquis” had made a good real estate decision. When he and Elsie were saying their farewells, he made a statement about the Marquis joining them at court some time to get to know the royal family better. Elsie seemed very approving of this idea, but Tobias looked mildly panicked.

“That would be delightful, your majesty,” the cat interjected, “I’m sure the Marquis will gladly join you all as soon as his affairs are in order.”

“Of course, of course,” said the king indulgently, “Must finish the moving-in, mustn’t we?”

Once the royalty had left, everyone save the cat let out a sigh of relief, grateful that they no longer had to pretend to have known this new tenant for years. The relief was short-lived, as they quickly realized that the cat intended the charade to continue.

“We live here now,” the cat announced grandly, “So do us a favor and help poor Toby here learn some royal manners? Anyway, you needn’t worry about being eaten, at least.”

And it did take some several months, but Tobias did eventually learn enough to fake his way through court manners. “Do as I do,” the cat had told him, “Pretend you know what you’re doing and be prepared to make a swift exit through the nearest window if you’re caught.”

“Humans don’t always land on their feet, cat,” said Tobias.

“That sounds like a “you” problem,” said the cat.

And, with taxes finally being paid to repair the roads, and tenants no longer having to worry about premature and gruesome ends courtesy of the landlord, life soon settled into something more routine. And even if it could not be realistically said that they were always happy, for there is always trouble somewhere in life, they all lived contentedly enough ever after.

The End

[mononoke-no-ko]

[Trans] R2 Sound Episode #5: C's Mushroom-ed C.C.

Someone always snapped at the end of these Sound Episodes xD.

C-take Rareta C.C.

C.C.: Please forgive me, Master!

Lelouch : Really, please remember already, C.C. You even got wet like this.

C.C.: Sorry, I'm sorry, I will never get wet again. Please forgive me...

Lelouch : I'm asking you, just don't try to wash my computer or mobile phone ever again. C'mon, stop hiding there and come out here.  

C.C.: I'm very sorry! Please, don't hurt me...!

Lelouch : Don't say things that will make people misunderstand! Anyway, why is your bulliable aura is so transparent?

(From monitor) Charles: Seems like you're having a great time, My Sweet Son!

Lelouch : Dad?! How did you find out my communication channel?

Charles: Facing C.C. who's different than usual, do you feel your heartbeats accelerating? No need to hide it.

Lelouch: What does that even mean? Don’t change the subject! What is your business anyway?

Charles: You know, I just want to see my son's flustered expression because of C.C.. Maybe one of these days I'm going to be a grandfather!

Lelouch : Like hell you're! I'm going to hang up, you stupid dad!

Charles: Wait, wait, wait! Wait a minute. The truth is, I came to share with you an information you would like to hear.  

Lelouch : Information?

Charles: Don't you want to know the method to change C.C. back, Lelouch?  

Lelouch : WHAT?!

----

Lelouch : So, now, "The first ever, sprouting and sprouting, cooking mushrooms that you have never seen before! A great gathering of friends who are confident about their craft in mushroom! Seek C’s mushroom assembly" is officially started.

Kallen: The title's long! Also, this is the hangar... right? You went as far as transforming it into a huge kitchen?!

Chiba: I heard that this is the biggest event of the Black Knights, so I come and see...

Todo: Looking at this situation, I can't even laugh.

Diethard: What's going on, Zero? Did you eat something bad? No, did you hit your head?

Rolo: Geass!

(SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!)

Rolo: Geass lifted!

Kallen: It hurts!

Todo: Uh!

Chiba: Aw!

Diethard: Ack!

Kallen: W-who is it? Just now someone just slap my head.

Todo: Unbelievable, someone actually punched my nose!

Chiba: It hurts. The inside area of my upper arm's softest part was twisted?!

Diethard: Just now I suddenly got stunned.

Rolo: Nii-san, I punished them a bit.

Lelouch: Sorry about that, Rolo. The next time they grumble again, I'll be relying on you.

Rolo: No big deal. Next time I have to make an effort not to kill them.

Lelouch: Hey hey, don't overdo it, Rolo. Well, regardless of those boring things. As I've said, I'm gathering you here for anything but one reason; to help to change the maid groupie with transparent bulliable aura, moe moe girl C.C. back to her previous self. For that purpose I need your strength.

Kallen: "Transparent bulliable aura"?

Todo: "Maid groupie"?

Chiba: "moe moe girl"?

Diethard: "Change back"?

Lelouch: That's right! In fact, I just received a contact from Emperor of Britannia.

Everyone: EHH?!

---------

Charles: There is only one way to recover C.C.'s lost memory. That is, for her to eat a new type of mushroom that grows in the underground city of the Geass Order; C-take. 

Lelouch: Shiitake (TN: a type of mushroom that's common in Japan)? Isn't that something that's sold everywhere?

Charles: You're wrong! Stupid Lelouch, C-take means C's mushroom, not the shiitake! The guy who doesn’t even know these things is actually a Geass user, how laughable!

Lelouch: Oh, I see. Because it's a mushroom that grows in C's world people called it C's mushroom... Who the hell knows this kind of thing?! How can there be such unreasonable naming method!

Charles: If she eats it, C.C. will be able to change back to the original C.C..

Lelouch: Really?

Charles: However, the underground city has grown a variety of mushrooms. You can't tell which one is C's mushrooms unless you eat it. And I heard that other mushrooms except for C's mushrooms have terrible side effects. Do you have the courage to take this risk?

Lelouch: Of course I have!

-----------

Todo: So, you are completely on his hook.

Chiba: I feel that I can already see the end of this story.

Lelouch: Rolo, let everyone take a look at the mushrooms that have been collected.

Rolo: Yes, Zero.

Kallen: Uwa-! What's this? Are these all mushrooms? How much is it...?

Rolo: These are what I've collected. The total is about 10 kilograms.

Diethard: Red, blue, green, yellow, purple, striped, and there's a red and white Bodhi leaf pattern. All are mushrooms that've never been seen before.

Todo: Somehow they scream 'don't eat', 'dangerous', and 'trouble'.

Chiba: What are we to do with these, Zero?

Lelouch: Isn't it obvious? Make dishes for C.C. to eat.

Everyone: Ehh?!

Diethard: But aren't they toxic and dangerous?

Lelouch: No, you got it wrong, Diethard. The Emperor said there are side effects, he didn’t say it’s poisonous.

Kallen: Hmm~ doesn't it sound interesting?

Chiba: K-kouzuki, you...

Kallen: If that's the case, let me help you.

Todo: But..!

Kallen: It should be fine~ it doesn't seem like there's anything dangerous in it. Moreover, everyone here has been looked down upon and made fun of by C.C.. Now it's a great opportunity for payback, don't you think?

Lelouch: Kallen, you've been harboring this kind of thought towards C.C.?

Kallen: Just a little revenge, but at the same time it can change C.C. back too. Isn't it killing two birds with one stone? Let's do it. "The first ever, sprouting and sprouting ~ cooking with mushrooms that have never been seen! A great gathering of friends who are confident about their craft in mushroom! Seek and cook the C mushroom assembly", begin...!

Diethard: The title is too long to fit into the title bar.

Todo: Title bar?

Diethard: And, last but not least, the title that's too long shows that he is not confident in the content of the show. Because the content is so boring, he wants to use the title to fool the-

Rolo: Geass!

(beating sounds)

Rolo: Lifted!

Diethard: Ahh!

Todo: Diethard suddenly gets in a tragic condition that couldn't be show on TV!

Lelouch: Ignore it. Now ladies and gentlemen, let's start this event with full power!

Kallen: Well, let's get Miss C.C., our protagonist today, to enter the stage. Miss C.C., please come up and introduce yourself!

C.C.: U-um... Excuse me, I'm a maid groupie with transparent bulliable aura, moe moe girl C.C.

Chiba: You say that about yourself?

Todo: In other words, is this the name that Zero forced C.C. to remember?

C.C.: Today, I'm ordered by Master's to help everyone here. Even though I'm just an ordinary servant, please give me your guidance.

Kallen: Come, C.C., we are all gathered here to make delicious mushroom dishes for you. You have to, without leaving a speck, finish them all.

C.C.: Master..., this woman's eyes are scary...

Todo: Well for now, try my dish first.

Kallen: Todo-san, you can cook?

Todo: That is a requirement to survive in the war.

Chiba: While we're still in the Japanese Liberation Front, snakes, mice, ants, caterpillars, weeds, barks, and roots, we've eaten anything that can be put into our mouth.

Todo: It's really nostalgic.

Chiba: Looking back, my cooking skill is also trained in those hard times.

Todo: The three cuts on the bear, your cutting method with a knife was really outstanding!

Lelouch: I see, you've gone through lot of hardship.

Todo: Next, what I made is a barbecue from the blue mushroom with a bright yellow-green round pattern on top.

Chiba: It's awesome, Todo-san. It completely researched and utilized the material color. Compared to this, the bear I did was far behind.

Todo: And with a little drop of soy sauce... here, C.C., please enjoy the dish!

C.C.: Ah, um, but it looks... kind of grotesque...

Lelouch: Eat it, C.C.. Isn’t there an old saying that effective medicine looks ominous?

C.C.: Yes..., then I'm going to eat.... (Chew)... En!

Lelouch: How are you feeling, C.C.? How does it taste? Do you feel any change?

C.C.: N-not really! There's nothing special about the taste! I ate it simply because Master would be troubled if I didn't. I'm totally NOT interested in you, okay?!

Chiba: Yet you're blushing

Todo: What? What is this change?

Diethard: Oh wow. This is a lucky first strike.

Kallen: Right. There's no mistake, this is Tsundere-mushroom.

Lelouch: Tsundere mushrooms? What's that?

Kallen: It's a new breed of mushrooms. Though I just came up with the name, but anyway this doesn't seem to be C's Mushroom.

Chiba: Then next try my dish.

Kallen: Here it is! The leader of Black Knights' kitchen, whose handmade dishes made countless men get the wrong idea, Chiba Nagisa! Today she has came to make mushroom cuisine for us... what is it?

Chiba: Don't add any weird commentary, Kozuki. I mean, originally I only made dishes for Todo-san...

Todo: Uh? What is it, Chiba? What did you say about me?

Chiba: N-nothing at all! Anyway, um, what I made is simple gratin mushrooms.

C.C.: Gratin? Again it's either too obscure or too pedestrian. In short it's just a semi-finished product. But, if you're feeding me, then I wouldn't mind eatin-

Chiba: Stop yapping and eat!

C.C.: Ah... it-it's hot... Hey...!

Chiba: Alright! So how is it?

C.C.: Um, what happened to me?

Kallen: Eh? Looks like the personality has changed again. I wonder if she just changed back.

C.C.: Somehow, my mouth is burning.

Chiba: That's of course, because I just transferred the newly baked gratin from the oven right to your mouth.

Todo: It seems only the effect of Tsundere mushroom that has disappeared. This doesn't seem to be a C's mushroom either.

Lelouch: Then let's decide the name of this mushroom as “Reset mushroom”. Haha, I've came up with a really fitting name.

Rolo: As expected from Zero!

Chiba: No creativity!

Diethard: Well, then it's my turn. Now you may not be able to tell, but my first work as an AD was on a gourmet show, and even now I’m still picky about food... ehem. The dish I made is a Britannia style dish with colored mushrooms and sweet and sour sauce. Dazzling sky blue, lemon yellow, shocking pink, emerald green, red rouge, and all these colorful colors create unprecedented flavors.

Kallen: Uwah... it looks bad for your health.

Todo: Looks poisonous.

Chiba: It's definitely poisonous.

C.C.: Master, this... do I have to eat this too...?

Lelouch: W-well, that's...

Diethard: Zero, don’t tell me you're thinking that my dish is something that can't be eaten by C.C.? I hope you're not having that kind of thought!

Lelouch: O-oh! Of course not! Since we don't know which one is C's mushroom, we have no other choice but to try every mushrooms! That's right, C.C., eat it.

C.C.: Uweeh. In the first place, why do I have to eat every one of these dishes, I don't know the reason anymore. (Eat)

Lelouch; How's the taste?

C.C.: Different from the appearance... it might be quite delicious. Unexpectedly, it's edible. Wha-!

Lelouch: What happened, C.C.?!

C.C.: Master, my hands are turning into strange shapes...!

Lelouch: The sharp-edge cone, the shape, and also the high-speed rotation while making "zing zing" noises. This... this is...!

Kallen: It's a drill.

Chiba: It's a drill huh.

Todo: How marvelous!

Lelouch: What the hell is going on?! Diethard!

Diethard: Well, no matter how you look at it, it's seems to be a mushroom that turns your hands into drills. How about naming it "Drill Mushrooms"?

Todo: Drill, huh... this is a man's romance, right, Chiba?

Chiba: Of course, Todo-san!

Kallen: What's that, fuufu manzai (couple skit)? (TN: manzai is a Japanese comedy act consisting of two people, usually one had a role of ‘funny man’ who acted silly/stupid and the other one made some retort/comment of the silly thing the other one did) 

Lelouch: You are wrong, Kallen! That was 'MENOto manzai' (wet nurse skit) because there’s no retort! 

C.C.: No, Master, the correct name should be 'MEOto manzai' (husband and wife skit). Anyway please hurry and change my hand back!!!

Lelouch: Oi, C.C., don't come close to me while waving that kind of hands! The drill will hit me!

C.C.: How could it be...! Master...! Diiethaaard! This all happened because you fed me with a strange mushroom!

Diethard: C-C.C., why only me?

C.C.: I'm going to kill you!

Diethard: Ah! It's piercing me!

Kallen: Eh, it looks painful. This is the kind of scene can never be shown on public.

Lelouch: Kallen, this is not the time to calmly admiring it!

Kallen: Well, maybe my dish could change her back.

Lelouch: Very well, try it!

Kallen: Well, what I made is mushroom risotto. This slightly turbid purple might make it seems toxic, but the taste is probably okay, though I haven't tried it myself.

C.C.: Heh, but, I can't eat with these hands.

Kallen: It can’t be helped, then! I'll be the one to feed you~! Come on, open your mouth and say 'ah~'

C.C.: A-ahn~

Lelouch: How is it? Do you feel like you're going to change back, C.C.?

C.C.: Um, somehow... my eyes feel strange...

Todo: Hmm, looks like there's no change in personality.

Lelouch: Your eyes? Does sand get into your eyes? Here, let me take a look.

C.C.: Yes, master.

Lelouch: Ack! What happened?! Just now C.C.'s eyes are glowing! They're glowing!

Todo: Rather, doesn't it seem like C.C.'s eyes are emitting beams...?

Chiba: There's a hole on the hangar walls....

Kallen: No no, Chiba, this is exactly the result that we're aiming!

Chiba: But even so, this is too...

Todo: For now, let's call this mushroom "Beaming Eyes Mushroom."

Chiba: Beam is also a man's romance right, Todo-san!

Lelouch: If we tell Rakshata about this, there's no doubt she will be very happy.

Kallen: The attack is really powerful, we can use it as a weapon.

Lelouch: Or not! Everyone, look! The beam just now scratched my helmet and left a mark! Kallen, how could you act so calm!

Kallen: That's because we have this "Reset mushroom", don't we? She just needs to eat that to change back to normal. Did you forget about it, Zero?

Lelouch: !! I DIDN'T!

Kallen: You forgot, huh.

Lelouch: Don't worry, C.C., now we will return you to normal. Come, Chiba! Bring your mushrooms gratin over.

Chiba: I'm sorry to inform you, Zero. Actually we've used all the Reset mushroom remained.

Lelouch: What did you say?

C.C.: Then what would happen to me, Master...!

Todo: Another blow on the wall. This is equivalent to the destructive power of a warship.

Lelouch: There's no other way. In this situation, let her eat each and every one of the mushrooms, then pray that there's any that can change her back.

Rolo: That’s Zero for you! It's a creative and amazing idea!

Chiba: Isn't he just trying his luck.

Lelouch: I need everyone’s help! Put all these mushrooms into C.C.'s mouth!

Everyone: Understood!

C.C.: Please stop, that unreasonable... uh... uh... W-w-whoa! Why am I getting bigger?

Lelouch: C.C. is turning into a giant!

Chiba: She grows to be even bigger than Zangetsu! This development is too unexpected.

Todo: So this is the power of Chinese Federation for 4000 years!

Rolo: Well, for now, let's name this mushroom as "Giant mushroom".

C.C.: Who cares about the name...

Lelouch: C.C. just... broke the hangar's ceiling!

Diethard: No, no, this must be CG! Or maybe it's a bluescreen effect that's used in the past... na ha, na ha ha!

Kallen: Diethard is escaping from reality.

Lelouch: Sorry about this, C.C.. I've used every method existed, but turns out modern science isn't able to help you yet.

C.C.: It's...! It's that so...

Lelouch: C.C....

C.C.: About this, or that matter, it's all the same. In the end everything is my fault.

Lelouch: No, this is Emperor of Brittania's...!

C.C.: No, it's okay. It's all my fault. Summer is hot and sea is salty because of my fault.

Todo: She doesn’t make any sense.

Kallen: Hmm she has became this big yet she feels small inside.

C.C.: This body now has became an obstruction. I can no longer stay by Master's side! Please don't look for me.

Chiba: Well, even if we don't look, you stick out.

C.C.: Bye-bye, everyone! Bye-bye, master!

Lelouch: Really, don't run, C.C.!

Diethard: Ack, it's collapsing...

Kallen: Stop, C.C! —————————————————————— Suzaku: Your Majesty, I have something to report to you.

Emperor: Oh? I was wondering who it is. So it's you, Suzaku. What's your business?

Suzaku: We got an emergency report from the spy we sneaked in to the area of Chinese Federation. It said there's a sight of unknown giant creature at Black Knight's HQ.

Emperor: Giant creature?

Suzaku: The reports says it looks like a young woman. I'm afraid there must be some mistake in this report.

Emperor: "Young woman"? Hahaha! Zero, I got you fooled!

Suzaku: Your Majesty?

Emperor: Zero... no, Lelouch... you are completely at my service! BWAHAHAHA!

Suzaku: H-huh?

———————————

C.C.: Please don’t look for me!!!

Fin.

Visit Index for other translations of other Code Geass materials.

[aion-rsa]

Marvel’s Loki Episode 6: MCU Easter Eggs and Comics References

https://ift.tt/2UfmlQd

This article contains Loki episode 6 spoilers, and potential spoilers for the wider MCU.

The Loki season finale (and thanks to the mid-credits scene we know it’s a “season finale” not a “series finale,” thank Odin) is here, and it’s got bigger ramifications for the Marvel Cinematic Universe than we ever could have imagined. Loki episode 6 may be light on Marvel Comics Easter eggs (and after last week’s egg-fest, don’t get greedy!), but it’s BIG on characters and concepts that we’ll be dealing with and talking about for years to come. 

Let’s get to work and see what we found in Loki episode 6.

The Opening

The opening space sequence is a clear homage to Robert Zemeckis’ Contact. The 1997 sci-fi film begins with a similar CG pullout from Earth into the known universe and beyond while we hear clips of historic speeches and songs. These fade away until there is silence, and then the camera reveals the universe has been inside the protagonist’s eye. As Loki’s opening tails off, we hear Sylvie shout “open your eyes!” 

This isn’t the first Contact homage we’ve seen in the Disney+ MCU shows either, as WandaVision embraced one during Monica Rambeau’s transformation sequence as she forged through the Hex. And it’s not the only sci-fi movie reference we get in the episode, either!

What are Those Voices?

There are plenty of famous quotes from the MCU all through that wild, cosmic opening, but as far as we can tell, none of them are especially significant to the events of this episode.  There are also some famous quotes from real life figures. They include:

“One small step for man…” – Neil Armstrong

“How dare they!” – Great Thunberg

“My dream…” – Malala Yousafzai

“We have fought for the right to experience peace.” – Nelson Mandela

“I will rise.” – Maya Angelou

“We think of time as a one-way motion…” – Not identified by closed captioning but possibly Carl Sagan

“Motivated by women throughout the world.” – Also not identified by closed captioning

This beginning features several prominent songs from throughout human history. The opening of Beethoven’s “Für Elise” pops up noticeably yet briefly, and we think we heard strains from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. 

The majority of it, however, is set to the strains of The Harry James Band’s version of “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” a song that is heartrendingly familiar to Captain America fans as the song that plays over Avengers: Endgame’s perfect final moment. The song first popped up in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, when Nick Fury was playing it in Steve’s apartment (clearly, Steve had plans for this song), but here the “Long, Long Time” in question is referring to the lifespan of series villain, “He Who Remains,” better known as…

Kang the Conqueror

(quick disclaimer: for simplicity’s sake, we’re referring to He Who Remains as Kang in this section, but for reasons that will become clear, there’s some nuance there, so just bear with us)

Kang’s backstory as laid out here also pays tribute to the idea of “The Council of Cross Time Kangs” which is both an assortment of variant Kangs from assorted timelines and also the people who battled/defeated them…and thus took on the mantle of Kang in their respective timelines. Does your head hurt yet? Because…

There was also an “Interdimensional Council of Reeds” from Jonathan Hickman’s run on Fantastic Four. Like Kang, various Reed Richards from various realities met up via portals and decided to help out areas of the multiverse in need using their combined intellect. Initially, they were mostly killed by a bunch of Celestials. These days they’re back, but led by the corrupt Reed Richards from the Ultimate Universe (the Maker). Things are going to be absolutely bonkers when the MCU finally brings us the FF.

Despite Jonathan Majors having signed on to play Kang the Conqueror in Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania, he’s never actually identified as such here. In the credits, he’s the Miss Minutes-approved “He Who Remains.” The closest we get to him being called Kang is when he mentions that he’s been referred to as “a conqueror.” He also mentions that he’s been called a “ruler” which could very well be taken as a reference to the character’s time as Pharaoh Rama-Tut.

When Sylvie takes a swing at Kang early on, he teleports and ends up laying down behind them in a smug pose. This looks to be a reference to his first comic appearance (1964’s Avengers #8), where the Avengers find him casually laying down in mid-air.

Read more

TV

Loki Episode 6 Review: For All Time. Always.

By Kirsten Howard

Movies

Who is Kang the Conqueror? Powers and Marvel Comics History Explained

By Jim Dandeneau

Kang isn’t rocking any of his familiar comics looks here (although the color scheme is vaguely appropriate), but at least one of the “miniatures” he uses to illustrate his story appears to be.

He Who Remains

While the “He Who Remains” we meet here is definitely meant as a Kang variant of some kind, the character exists independently of Kang in the comics!

He Who Remains has only made a handful of appearances in Marvel Comics, with the first (and most substantial) being in 1976’s Thor #246 by Len Wein, John Buscema, and Joe Sinnott. There, it was Thor and Jane Foster entering the “Citadel at the End of Time” to meet He Who Remains, and they have ALMOST a similar moment to Loki and Sylvie in that one wants He destroyed while the other wants to listen to what he has to say.

The comics He Who Remains was later revealed as the founder of the TVA (just like we see in the MCU) and the actual creator of the Time-Keepers. And while he shares Kang’s fondness for purple, he was never defined as a Kang variant in the comics, and in fact was pretty explicitly not that.

Secret Wars

The Multiversal War idea that plays so heavily throughout Loki also ties into Jon Hickman’s Avengers run where the multiverse has been collapsing onto itself due to the machinations of the Beyonders. As entropy destroys everything, various Earths are pitted against each other and are given the choice of destroying the other or both dying. While this led to a single world run by Dr. Doom, Reed Richards was eventually able to overtake him and bring back the multiverse.

Also with Hickman’s run, there was a moment of Captain America coming across a group of Kangs from different eras (regular Kang, Iron Lad, and Immortus) and explaining that allowing so many to die in order to save so many more is immoral. After the inspirational speech, Kang simply told him, “No one here…cares.”

Ravonna Renslayer

Well, we share the FDR High School pen mystery with this episode, that’s for sure!

After Renslayer decided she wouldn’t be steered towards a complicated future with Kang in the pages of Marvel Comics, she betrayed him and then assumed the name “Rebecca Tourminet,” which we see printed on her diploma back on Earth when B-15 is introducing the TVA Minutemen to the Real Her.

Interestingly, MCU Renslayer doesn’t appear to be aware of Kang or He Who Remains just yet, so perhaps there’s more interesting things coming down the pipe for these time-tossed lovers.

The Ending

“You know you can’t get to the end until you’ve been changed by the journey,” Kang tells Loki and Sylvie. It seems as though Kang has a surprisingly thorough understanding of what makes a good story. This could potentially be a shoutout to Dan Harmon, creator of Community and Rick and Morty, the latter of which Loki showrunner Michael Waldron wrote on. Harmon is famous for constructing “story circles” to help young writers understand the proper beats of storytelling.

The final shot of a confused Loki looking at a massive (and mostly comics-accurate) Kang the Conqueror statue is definitely a reference to the ending of the original Planet of the Apes (a franchise which also has some wacky timeline shenanigans of its own) which gives us a huge twist by having the main character come across the Statue of Liberty and piece together the truth of his world. Then again, it could also fit with the Tim Burton remake where the protagonist comes across an ape version of the Lincoln Memorial.

There’s also a serious Invasion of the Body Snatchers vibe to that ending, with a dazed/crazed Loki trying to explain the impossible to a skeptical audience who clearly don’t believe him.

We wrote in more detail about all the implications of that ending right here.

The Post-Credits Scene

We can’t help but feel that the mid-credits scene that literally and explicitly spells out in actual words that Loki season 2 is happening is a meta-joke at the expense of sites like Den of Geek, who make a big deal out of “explaining” every Marvel post-credits sequence. To which we say…yeah, cool, fair enough!

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Spot anything we missed? Let us know in the comments!

The post Marvel’s Loki Episode 6: MCU Easter Eggs and Comics References appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3hF0FWP

[academiablogs]

Is Genre a Four-Letter Word?

Here are the plots to three novels: can you tell which are fantasy novels? * The son of a twisted duke is killed in a bizarre accident, and his innocent fiancée finds herself a prisoner of a haunted castle, pursued by the duke himself. Only the strange, twisting corridors of Otranto can save her now, where statues cry bloody tears and giant helmets exact their unholy revenge.

* A sailor is shipwrecked on an island and wakes up to find that ant-sized people have captured him. They dub him the “Man Mountain” and force him to do various menial tasks (like saving the entire kingdom with his own urine), until, terrified by his potential power, decide to kill him and parcel off his body to various parts of the kingdom. But the “Man Mountain” has other ideas...

* Two knights are captured in battle and thrown into a dungeon for life. Through the bars, they glimpse a garden outside tended by a beautiful woman: both of them fall madly in love with her, and vow eternal hatred on the other, since only one can lay claim to her heart. Eventually, one knight is pardoned while the other manages through subterfuge to escape. Once free, the second knight prays to Mars to assure him victory, while the other prays to Venus; both god and goddess grant each one success in love and battle. This causes quite a debate in Olympus, and Jupiter has to stand in judgment as to which lover will live with the maiden—and which will die in defeat.

So which are the fantasy novels? The answer is simple: none of them. Each one is a work of “classic literature” published by academic presses and used in tens of thousands of high school and college classrooms each year. The first one, and the trickiest, comes from Walpole’s early gothic novel, The Castle of Otranto (1764). The second, a little more familiar to most, is from Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels (1726). And the final one, a plot which the author borrowed, and which Shakespeare also stole for a very late play, is from “The Knight’s Tale,” the very first installment of The Canterbury Tales (1476). So search as you will through the fantasy and science fiction section of the bookstore (or clicking through the same section in Amazon), you won’t find a single copy of these books. They’re all great literature, classics, poetry, or the more popular term, literary fiction.

And yet, if someone borrowed one of those plots today to weave together a novel where an astronaut lands on a strange planet of tiny aliens who abduct him, would that also be literary fiction? Or even just “fiction”? No, it would be science fiction, genre fiction, and to some people, merely “pulp fiction.” The same is true for any number of books with knights, haunted castles, shipwrecked sailors, or indeed, most works set in the ancient past. Fantasy. Juvenile literature. Maybe Young Adult at best. The implication is that these plots aren’t sufficiently literary to engage our minds or to make us think, feel, and examine the “human drama” that continues to be enacted.

Unless, of course, a book sells particularly well...then people start hedging their bets. The Harry Potter books, for example, have always held a respected place in the fantasy section...though you can also find them in Young Adult and mainstream fiction (depending on the bookstore). Or what about The Martian? Basically Robinson Crusoe set on Mars...yet you will rarely find it in the science fiction section. No, it’s “fiction” through and through. Why? Simply because it sells well and people like it—and that goes for people who have never watched an episode of Star Trek or read ten pages of Dune. So if a plot doesn’t doom a novel to a specific genre, why is that so often the case in traditional publishing? Why isn’t Frank Herbert (who wrote the Dune books) also found in fiction, when his books are more complex and interesting than The Martian, and why does J.K. Rowling get the literary mantle when it is forever denied to someone like Clifford Simak or Robert E. Howard (both of whom have sold countless books themselves)?

(Herbert’s Dune series pictured above). In the end, the problem lies with the bugbear of “realism,” which is hilarious given that we’re talking about fiction. If a book isn’t sufficiently realistic then it is seen as less important, or less serious, than the more “sensible” books in the market. Even among the science fiction community, there is often great snobbery about books that don’t pay tribute to hard science and instead fall back on the softer science of Star Wars (I’ve heard day-long debates on whether or not ‘parsecs’ is a measurement of speed or distance—as in Han’s comment, “it made the Kessel Run in less than 5 parsecs”). The Martian is given a pass since it’s composed of wall-to-wall hard science—and very impressively, too. Yet Dune, which is far less technical when it comes to “folding space” is seen as a talky space opera which is more suitable for nerdy preteens than your local biology professor.

Of course, fantasy is also expected to worship at the altar of realism—we need psychologically believable characters who are always consistent and plausible (and preferably, anti-heroes). With realism goes an expectation of defying the conventional tropes, even if doing so becomes a convention in itself: every heroine is a badass, basically usurping the ‘male’ role and saving the day. Wonderful on the face of it, but what about a novel that goes back to older traditions and stories? The beauty of folklore and fairy tales is their defiant refusal to make sense: characters act strangely, as in a dream; events appear and disappear following their own logic, and it’s the work of the reader to stitch them together. God help the modern novelist who attempts such innovation! Surely there are some women who long to be princesses, or who would rather be magic users, or bards, or scholars? Does ever hero or heroine have to wield a sword to be “heroic”? Is kicking ass the only way to “kick ass”?

Worse still, if you use magic, it had better work like science! The idea that magic should follow strict rules and laws probably comes from role playing games, where it does by necessity...but this is storytelling! In the Arthurian Legends, does Merlin explain the logistics of his spellcraft? What about Circe? Do we see the actual recipe that goes into her spells transforming men into beasts? Of course not. It’s fiction, fantasy, make-believe. The sense of wonder and mystery that surrounds it is half the fun, and all the author’s intention (whoever they were). If magic existed, I imagine it would work differently for each person, much the way writing does. No one writes the same way, or understands exactly how it works. It just does. That’s why there are so many self-help books for authors, most of them contradicting each other. Would it be any different for magic and magicians?

While we all like to read a story and believe in it—Coleridge called it the “willing suspension of disbelief”—we can also take it too far. An agent once told me that Young Adult readers will only read a heroine that is the same age as they are, more or less. They want to see themselves in the novel, like wearing a costume and playing make-believe. I couldn’t disagree more. I never read to wear borrowed clothes. I read to be a spy—I want to peek on a world of wonders that I don’t personally take part in, and that looks nothing like myself. I don’t need to see myself writ large (or small) in a novel; I just want to experience something mysterious and divine, or else see the mysterious and divine in the world around me. Either one will do, but I’m not a literary narcissist; I want to read beyond and outside myself. And I don’t demand that the books make sense or follow the rules of my own world. I only ask for one thing and even that is negotiable: make me never want to close the book. Keep me turning the pages in wonder, delight, confusion, anger, and frustration. Any story that does that, in any genre, has done its work.

In conclusion, I will admit that works of fantasy and science fiction (even if they’re not classified as such) tend to keep me turning the pages more than others. I read widely and in every possible style and genre, but nothing excites me more than a story set in the distant past or the far-flung future. These are stories that simply delight me. Even when they’re old, they seem brand new. The very cover of a castle enveloped by mist with twin moons on the horizon makes me eager to crack open the book and get lost in the pages. I wager that a lot of people would feel the same if we removed the stigma of genre of “fantasy” (or whatever other genre). Look at the run-away popularity of the Lord of the Rings movies; everyone seemed to love them, even people who would have gagged at the very sight of a hard bound copy of The Simarillion. Why? Because films are almost genre neutral, as we also see with superhero films (how many fans of Wolverine actually own any X-Men comics?); the point being, that when we look at books as books, and fiction as fiction, we expand our horizons. We look at stories, and not types or genres or categories.

Reading is fun. It makes life worth living. So why reduce it to a dry set of analytics or algorithms? Only a complete idiot thinks that numbers can encompass the diverse reasons that we read and value art. Or not “idiots”—that’s too strong a term. Let’s call them “people who don’t read books.”

[ecuenglishprof-blog]

Is Genre a Four-Letter Word?

Here are the plots to three novels: can you tell which are fantasy novels?

* The son of a twisted duke is killed in a bizarre accident, and his innocent fiancée finds herself a prisoner of a haunted castle, pursued by the duke himself. Only the strange, twisting corridors of Otranto can save her now, where statues cry bloody tears and giant helmets exact their unholy revenge.

* A sailor is shipwrecked on an island and wakes up to find that ant-sized people have captured him. They dub him the “Man Mountain” and force him to do various menial tasks (like saving the entire kingdom with his own urine), until, terrified by his potential power, decide to kill him and parcel off his body to various parts of the kingdom. But the “Man Mountain” has other ideas...

* Two knights are captured in battle and thrown into a dungeon for life. Through the bars, they glimpse a garden outside tended by a beautiful woman: both of them fall madly in love with her, and vow eternal hatred on the other, since only one can lay claim to her heart. Eventually, one night is pardoned while the other manages through subterfuge to escape. Once free, the second knight prays to Mars to assure him victory, while the other prays to Venus; both god and goddess grant each one success in love and battle. This causes quite a debate in Olympus, and Jupiter has to stand in judgment as to which lover will live with the maiden—and which will die in defeat.

So which are the fantasy novels? The answer is simple: none of them. Each one is a work of “classic literature” published by academic presses and used in tens of thousands of high school and college classrooms each year. The first one, and the trickiest, comes from Walpole’s early gothic novel, The Castle of Otranto (1764). The second, a little more familiar to most, is from Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels (1726). And the final one, a plot which the author borrowed, and which Shakespeare also stole for a very late play, is from “The Knight’s Tale,” the very first installment of The Canterbury Tales (1476). So search as you will through the fantasy and science fiction section of the bookstore (or clicking through the same section in Amazon), you won’t find a single copy of these books. They’re all great literature, classics, poetry, or the more popular term, literary fiction.

And yet, if someone borrowed one of those plots today to weave together a novel where an astronaut lands on a strange planet of tiny aliens who abduct him, would that also be literary fiction? Or even just “fiction”? No, it would be science fiction, genre fiction, and to some people, merely “pulp fiction.” The same is true for any number of books with knights, haunted castles, shipwrecked sailors, or indeed, most works set in the ancient past. Fantasy. Juvenile literature. Maybe Young Adult at best. The implication is that these plots aren’t sufficiently literary to engage our minds or to make us think, feel, and examine the “human drama” that continues to be enacted.

Unless, of course, a book sells particularly well...then people start hedging their bets. The Harry Potter books, for example, have always held a respected place in the fantasy section...though you can also find them in Young Adult and mainstream fiction (depending on the bookstore). Or what about The Martian? Basically Robinson Crusoe (which reads like fantasy) set on Mars...yet you will rarely find it in the science fiction section. No, it’s “fiction” through and through. Why? Simply because it sells well and people like it—and that goes for people who have never watched an episode of Star Trek or read ten pages of Dune. So if a plot doesn’t doom a novel to a specific genre, why is that so often the case in traditional publishing? Why isn’t Frank Herbert (who wrote the Dune books) also found in fiction, when his books are quite more complex and interesting than The Martian, and why does J.K. Rowling get the literary mantle when it is forever denied to someone like Clifford Simak or Robert E. Howard (both of whom have sold countless books themselves)?

In the end, the problem lies with the bugbear of “realism,” which is hilarious given that we’re talking about fiction. If a book isn’t sufficiently realistic then it is seen as less important, or less serious, than the more “sensible” books in the market. Even among the science fiction community, there is often great snobbery about books that don’t pay tribute to hard science and instead fall back on the softer science of Star Wars (I’ve heard day-long debates on whether or not ‘parsecs’ is a measurement of speed or distance—as in Han’s comment, “it made the Kessel Run in less than 5 parsecs”). The Martian is given a pass since it’s composed of wall-to-wall hard science—and very impressively, too. Yet Dune, which is far less technical when it comes to “folding space” is seen as a talky space opera which is more suitable for nerdy preteens than your local biology professor.

Of course, fantasy is also expected to worship at the altar of realism—we need psychologically believable characters who are always consistent and plausible (and preferably, anti-heroes). With realism goes an expectation of defying the conventional tropes, even if doing so becomes a convention in itself: every heroine is a badass, basically usurping the ‘male’ role and saving the day. Wonderful on the face of it, but what about a novel that goes back to older traditions and stories? The beauty of folklore and fairy tales is their defiant refusal to make sense: characters act strangely, as in a dream; events appear and disappear following their own logic, and it’s the work of the reader to stitch them together. God help the modern novelist who attempts such innovation! Surely there are some women who long to be princesses, or who would rather be magic users, or bards, or scholars? Does ever hero or heroine have to wield a sword to be “heroic”? Is kicking ass the only way to “kick ass”?

Worse still, if you use magic, it had better work like science! The idea that magic should follow strict rules and laws probably comes from role playing games, where it does by necessity...but this is storytelling! In the Arthurian Legends, does Merlin explain the logistics of his spellcraft? What about Circe? Do we see the actual recipe that goes into her spells transforming men into beasts? Of course not. It’s fiction, fantasy, make-believe. The sense of wonder and mystery that surrounds it is half the fun, and all the author’s intention (whoever they were). If magic existed, I imagine it would work differently for each person, much the way writing does. No one writes the same way, or understands exactly how it works. It just does. That’s why there are so many self-help books for authors, most of them contradicting each other. Would it be any different for magic and magicians?

While we all like to read a story and believe in it—Coleridge called it the “willing suspension of disbelief”—we can also take it too far. An agent once told me that Young Adult readers will only read a heroine that is the same age as they are, more or less. They want to see themselves in the novel, like wearing a costume and playing make-believe. I couldn’t disagree more. I never read to wear borrowed clothes. I read to be a spy—I want to peek on a world of wonders that I don’t personally take part in, and that looks nothing like myself. I don’t need to see myself writ large (or small) in a novel; I just want to experience something mysterious and divine, or else see the mysterious and divine in the world around me. Either one will do, but I’m not a literary narcissist; I want to read beyond and outside myself. And I don’t demand that the books make sense or follow the rules of my own world. I only ask for one thing and even that is negotiable: make me never want to close the book. Keep me turning the pages in wonder, delight, confusion, anger, and frustration. Any story that does that, in any genre, has done its work.

In conclusion, I will admit that works of fantasy and science fiction (even if they’re not classified as such) tend to keep me turning the pages more than others. I read widely and in every possible style and genre, but nothing excites me more than a story set in the distant past or the far-flung future. These are stories that simply delight me. Even when they’re old, they seem brand new. Even the cover of a castle enveloped by mist with twin moons on the horizon makes me eager to crack open the book and get lost in the pages. I wager that a lot of people would feel the same if we removed the stigma of genre of “fantasy” (or whatever other genre). Look at the run-away popularity of the Lord of the Rings movies; everyone seemed to love them, even people who would have gagged at the very sight of a hard bound copy of The Simarillion. Why? Because films are almost genre neutral, as we also see with superhero films (how many fans of Wolverine actually own any X-Men comics?); the point being, that when we look at books as books, and fiction as fiction, we expand our horizons. We look at stories, and not types or genres or categories.

Reading is fun. It makes life worth living. So why reduce it to a dry set of analytics or algorithms? Only a complete idiot thinks that numbers can encompass the diverse reasons that we read and value art. Or not “idiots”—that’s too strong a term. Let’s call them “people who don’t read books.”

[spuumpkin-blog]

birdworld - chapter 1 (welcome to bird world)

(theme: https://soundcloud.com/leyawn/welcome-to-bird-world)

Kiwi’s wooden sword clashes against the leather-bound training dummy, as they batter it into submission. Moa looks on at his wonderful chick, and chuckles to himself. The proud glint in his eyes goes unnoticed by Kiwi, as they vehemently beat the dummy with their sword. The sword is little more than a carved club, but Kiwi’s fine slashes and faux-ripostes display their skill at wielding it. After some more of this, as Kiwi’s strikes get clumsier and slower, they eventually collapse to the ground, breathing heavily.

Moa rushes to his chick’s side, “Oh, Kiwi! Are ya’ okay? Ya’ gotta be more careful with overworkin’ ya’self, y’know?” He offers a wing up, but Kiwi stands up themselves.

They brush themselves off, grinning. “Aw, don’t worry dad! Ah’m fine, you know that! If ah ever wanna become a knight, ah can’t rest for even a sec’! You know the knight’s motto,” Kiwi puts their wing over their chest, “‘Vigilant, honourable, always-”

“Aware,” Moa interjects “and never selfish. I know it, Kiwi. You won’t ever get there if ya’ don’t take care of ya’self though! I learnt that the hard way.” Moa motions to his stub of a leg, with a wooden attachment emulating a talon that allows rudimentary movement.

“Ah know, dad! Ah just… really want this. More than anythin’.”

“I know ya’ do, Kiwi. Here, come on inside, I wanna show ya’ someth-” Moa is interrupted by a loud shrill sound, that of a cymbal.

A knight’s company walks down the path leading to the two bird’s humble country farmhouse, with a cymbal-playing knight in the front. They pass by the large field of grain, and head up the path to the small homestead, Moa frowning sternly. One of the front knights proceeds without the rest of the company, and kneels before Moa. Kiwi jumps excitedly at the vibrant plumes on her helmet’s crest, which she places down to the ground. Her armor is the same as the other knights, aside from this plume, and a pair of large metal wings extending out of the back of her chestplate. They move and bend naturally, as though they are her own.

Still at Moa’s feet, she looks up to him, while Kiwi bounces around in the background. “Sir Moa, of the Falcon Legion. I lay myself before you, and request the honor of speaking.”

“Get up, Cormorant. I’m not that bird anymore, and you should know that. My captaining days are done.”

Cormorant stands, and nods at Moa. “Apologies, sir. I simply feel the need to respect such an incredibly veteran. I will get to business. You have been called to Popcorn Castle to be witness to the princess’ coronation. As a guest of honor.”

Moa chuckles at this, “Hehe… Of course. I know Kea would want me there. She’s a sweetheart. Sure thing, me and my chick would be glad to come.”

Cormorant seems surprised, “S-Sir, you knew the Queen? I-I have only heard tales of her exploits, but she’s one of the most legendary figures of our history. She was never known to acknowledge the knights in any way, such activities usually being left to King Raven.”

“Ya’ sure know your stuff, huh? Well, yeah, I knew ‘er. She was… pretty friendly, with me.”

Cormorant looks dumbfounded for a moment, before blushing brightly. “Oh… Oh! Excuse my intrusion s-sir, I should not have pried!”

Moa laughs heartily, patting her on the shoulder. “It’s completely fine, Corm.”

The two catch up as Kiwi remains in awe of these knights. The royal knights, at their house? Inviting them for a seat of honor? What? It was unbelievable. They were gobsmacked. The path to the castle was… fairly uneventful, passing by the other rural fields and homesteads which Kiwi had seen many times before, in their journeys across the wild. Cormorant eventually led them onto a cobble path, signifying the nearby city and the end of Kiwi’s knowledge.

The stones creaked as they passed under an arch, the townsfolk bustling in the market stalls of today’s grand fair. It was fairly early in the morning, so most folks were simply setting up shop, with others talking to each other as they tended to their gardens and gossiped. The knight company made quick passage through the town square, with Kiwi tagging along behind them. They were so caught up in this reverie, that they didn’t notice the Princess walking towards them. They also didn’t notice themselves slipping, until they had flailed directly into the Princess herself.

She laughed. Kiwi was speechless. Her laugh was great. So, so great. They got so caught up in how wonderful her laugh was, they did not notice the two guards standing tall above her, but Moa did. He rushed over to the four of them, as fast as his wooden talon could take him.

“KIWI! What in the blazes are ya’ doin’? I know you’re enthusiastic ‘n’ all, but there’s bein’ enthusiastic and then there’s bein’ downright intrusive! Come on now, we gotta get goin’.” He grabs them by the wing, as they stay awestruck by Kiwi’s presence. “Uh, excuse me, sir? Sir Moa?” A tall, wide white-feathered bird speaks up. One of the guards. Dove. “I know you, sir. The queen invited you to be a guest of honor, yes?”

Moa looks nervous at the gathering crowd. “Uh… y-yes… she did.”

“Oh, wonderful! Come then, we must be introduced! You will be seated directly next to the royal family, including us!” Dove smiles widely, and takes both of them in a crushing embrace, which the other guard, Pigeon, follows up with an even tighter one. They both take the birds by the back as they continue through the markets.

Throughout the day, Kiwi remains silent. They cannot seem to fathom any words in front of the Princess. At one point, Dove takes them aside and talks to them alone.

“Hey. I see you eyein’ up the Princess. I know that feeling. She’s glorious, isn’t she? Someone who you’d want to protect with all that you have, all that you’ve worked for. All that you are. I can tell, don’t worry. With your history, you’re getting into the guard for sure-” Kiwi frowns at this.

“Well, ah don’t mean to seem ungrateful, but ah’d like to earn that myself, thanks! Ah don’t think ah need to be given that sorta leg up, because that just ain’t right. Ah don’t deserve to be in the guard anymore than any other bird who wants to with all o’ their heart. Ah appreciate the sentiment, but ah know what ah’m doin’.” With that, Kiwi moves past Dove, and proceeds to follow the others. Dove sits, grinning.

After a long day of walking around, the group splits, and Kiwi and Moa head to their designated seating. They remain there before the proceedings, as they should begin soon… but something isn’t right. Nobody else has arrived. The Princess isn’t here.

“Wait here, Kiwi.” As Moa runs out of the building, into the courtyard, Kiwi paces frantically. Their father had just left them in the Royal Palace, and they had no idea what to do about anything. Without thinking, they burst into the courtyard, and instantly tears well up in their eyes.

The sky is dark, with a swirling storm cloud centered above the castle. It growls, roaring with thunder and lightning. Directly below it, Princess Tui lies, incapacitated. Holding her, is a bedraggled gull in dark purple wizard attire. He fires green lightning at the earth below, forming a wall of enchanted flames between his position and the townsfolk. Kiwi sees their father, Moa, rushing into the flames. Before they can speak, he is struck down by a bolt of lightning himself, and ends up coughing on the ground. The gull cackles maniacally out his crooked beak, staring down Moa.

“Thisss iss it, isssn’t it? Finally, after all thessse yearsss… Moa, my greatesssst foe… The only true rival to the power that issss, the nefarioussss DOCTOR GULL! SSSSIR MOA, hasss been, sssstruck down. Finally, your luck hass run out. I sssee thiss asss the perfectly fitting end for you, you fool. You ssspent all thesssse yearsss wassting away in that homesssstead of yoursss, ruminating on the fate of your Queen. But now! NOW! Now we sssee the ressssult of that. A tired, old, sssshell of the bird you oncccce were. Go home, old man. You are no longer the hero of thissss sssssstory. I am. Doctor Gull, sssshall be the name they ssssssee on the hissssstory bookssss of the future!” Dr. Gull cackles more, almost rolling over with laughter, despite floating in mid-air. He does not see Kiwi, luckily, as they rush to their father’s side.

“D-Dad, are- are you okay?” Tears roll down their face.

“I’m… I’m just fine, Kiwi…” Moa coughs violently with each word spoken.

‘No, no, no! You need to be taken to a medic! Ah, ah can get you home, we can heal up!”

“It’s okay, Kiwi. I’ll be fine. Ya’ need ta’... get out of here. Get home. Take… my… sword…” Moa passes out, before the end of his sentence. Kiwi quickly rushes him into the castle as a safety measure, before they run back into the courtyard. Dr. Gull still hovers above the ground, zapping the ground and town into flames. Just before Kiwi can attempt a heroic stand, Dove and Pigeon fly down from the castle parapets. Helmets down, lances drawn, they point at Dr. Gull in unison. Dove speaks, but Pigeon simply growls. “You will face the darkest punishment that the halls of popcorn castle have available, if you do not cease this activity. Let go of the Princess this instant, and take your leave, or we will be forced to use violence.”

Dr. Gull simply laughs. “Alright. I’ll let go of her.” Princess Tui disappears into thin air. “And now, to take my leave! Heheheh, hyeahahahahahahahahah!” Yellow lightning shoots out of Dr. Gulls wingtips, and shoot towards Dove and Pigeon, who are simply not lithe enough to move out of the way in time. In an instant, both of them are transformed… into bugs. Two large ants now take the place of the guards, as their armor and weapons fall to the ground, and the insects run around in horror and confusion. “That will teach you to sssstand up to me, your future ruler! I am already amasssssing the power of the Magic Eggplantsssss, and oncccce I have done sssso… You will bow to me, Ssssupreme Ruler Gull!” Dr. Gull laughs once more, teleporting away. The clouds mostly clear, but the fire and panic remains. Kiwi is already out of the city.

They arrive back at home. Walking up the stairs, into their father’s room. They had only been in here with him, never alone. But now, they climb atop his roost, and pull at the sword on the display. It does not remove, but it clicks, and a door opens to the right of the roost. Heading down a spiral staircase, they see dazzling blue glow bugs flicker to life with their approach, and they light up an enchanting room. The room is draped with vines and made of ancient cobble, and stretches far, even further than the base of Kiwi’s house. In the center of the room, the glow bugs are concentrated. They highlight a simple oaken chest, with a small table beside it, residing on a stone pedestal. Stepping up the pedestal, Kiwi reads the note.

“My dear Kiwi,

I love you with all my heart. You are the most important part of my life, and that will never change. I trust you with all that I am, and you are what makes each morning worth waking up to. Each sunrise worth the sunset. Each rose worth the thorn. Each day worth the night. Each good worth the bad.

You deserve this. In this chest are my old sword and shield. There is also a map to a collection of magical artifacts known as the Magic Eggplants. They have been lost to time, and even I could not recover them. With their power, the ruling family could bring everlasting happiness to this realm. You may search them out, if you wish. I just want you to see the hero you’ve always been, to me.

I love you,

Moa.”

The note, now stained with tears, is stored into Kiwi’s satchel. The sword, a simple steel blade affixed to a bejeweled golden hilt, and the shield, a plate of steel with the royal symbol of three feathers of green, blue, and red emblazoned onto the front, both now equipped on Kiwi’s frame.

The map, held up to the midday sun. Lighting the way to the next destination… lychee beach. They would find them. They would save their father. And Princess Tui. And Dove, and Pigeon, and all of birdworld. They would do it. They had to. Who else would?