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anghraine · 2 years

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Here's the GW1/Gwen Thackeray rambling post I promised @venndaai a ... while ago. It is extremely rambling, and also, I feel like I should probably warn for something. GW1 keeps the true brutality of the Charr invasion offscreen, but it doesn't really conceal what's happening.

Um—okay, CW for, hm, military conquest, mentions of large-scale killing and enslavement, including sometimes specific references to the means of death. Also spoilers for a lot of GW1.

As I've mentioned before, Gwen is my favorite character in the entire series, despite the GW1 writing being more uneven than GW2's (I think GW1's writing tends to be conceptually/structurally "better" but the execution on the sentence level is very unreliable). I can't remember everything I've said about it before, so here are ALL of my Gwen/Ascalon Blorbo Emotions.

GW1, especially the original game (re-titled Prophecies), tends to be very railroad-y in story terms, even by comparison to GW2. As a Prophecies character, you're an Ascalonian living in your home before the Searing, and a new member of the elite Ascalon Vanguard led by King Adelbern's son and heir, Prince Rurik.

As the game starts, you're finishing up your training in Ascalon City. You receive the command to go just outside the city to meet the trainer for your profession (usually mesmer in my case). The moment that you walk out the front gates, you see a shrine on your left, attended by a female monk, and a dark-haired little girl skipping around. Both the monk and the girl have quests for you.

The girl, of course, is the young Gwen (she had no other name back then). We're not told her age at the time, though if I recall correctly, the lore says she's ten. In my opinion, she looks and acts considerably younger.

In any case, she has lost her flute just across a nearby river. She's too afraid of the local skale to fetch it herself, and asks you to do it for her. However, when you kill the skale and go across the river, you discover the flute is broken, much to her dismay.

You do your various early adventures, and when you go back to the city to sell to the merchant, you have the option to buy things like a flute, a fairly expensive red cape, and the like. These are things you can give to Gwen. If you buy her the flute, she always has it afterwards (well, until the Searing...), and if you talk to her again after buying her a new flute, she'll follow you around and periodically heal you by playing the instrument.

You can also give her red iris flowers, to her delight. They're her favorite flower and spawn throughout the pre-Searing zones (if you talk to the right person, you'll discover that she uses them to make flower wreaths for a friendly dolyak). If you do this enough, she bonds with you, and will eventually give you something she considers valuable: a red shred of a tapestry (its purpose would not be revealed until the third expansion—it's part of a hall of achievements).

As she follows you around, she also chatters quite a lot about various things, including what little we know of her early history. Unlike a lot of NPC major characters, she has no ties to royalty or aristocracy or anything like that. She's the daughter of a random adventurer and of a village woman near Ashford Abbey. She sort of wants to be a warrior, but she really likes the mesmers' superior sense of fashion, and it's a struggle (#relatable; also, she does ultimately become a mesmer).

She mentions one specific mesmer, incidentally: Lady Althea, the daughter of Duke Barradin. Althea runs a theatre outside of the city, teaches students in illusion magic, and true to mesmer form, wears one of my favorite outfits in the game.

—but which tragically has yet to be ported to GW2. Anyway.

As the pre-Searing game progresses, we learn that after the last king died, the next person in the line of succession would have been Duke Barradin, Althea's father. He stepped aside for Adelbern, a war hero, and thus far, a competent and largely popular king who is loyally supported by Barradin, among others. The only opposition to his rule at this point comes from obnoxious snobs.

Anyway, Althea is engaged to Prince Rurik, Adelbern's son, and little Gwen wants to go to the royal wedding. She's never actually seen the prince and wonders if she ever will (she doesn't, in the event).

*deep breath* Then the Searing happens.

The Searing is devastating for both the land and the Ascalonians. The earth is turned into a cracked desolation marked with burning crystals. Rivers turn to sludge. Thousands of people are killed in the Searing alone and thousands more flee from the Charr invaders. Althea Barradin is taken captive and burned alive, down to ashes. Other people are captured and enslaved. Even GW2 says the Ascalonian aqueducts ran red with blood after the Searing.

As for the PC, you belatedly discover the details of this upon returning from a two-year Vanguard mission away from the heart of Ascalon. The full Charr invasion force is still being held back by what remains of Ascalon's armies, but Charr forces break through at points, and it's obvious the Ascalonians are now losing.

Meanwhile, the Ascalonian people are deeply traumatized. Enough of them went insane after the Searing that Ashford Abbey has been converted into a mental sanitarium. NPCs are trying to put together a census to figure out who is even alive at this point. In the battered but still standing Ascalon City, the random guards are like:

By and large, GW1 does not pull its punches.

As for Gwen, you have no idea what happened to her at this stage, though you find her flute—broken again—out in the desolation beyond Ascalon City. In fact, Prophecies never reveals what happened to her, and the two stand-alone expansions are in totally different locations with different, Charr-unrelated, plots (they're set in Cantha and Elona respectively, and for the full stories, you would make new Canthan and Elonian characters to play them).

Meanwhile, Prince Rurik (who adored his fiancée Althea) and the PC gradually realize the Ascalonians can't win this war. They need to accept the help offered by their traditional enemies in Kryta and take refuge there for the sake of their people. King Adelbern is ... not the same after the Searing and increasingly irrational. He refuses and disowns his son when Rurik argues with him.

Rurik is like ... fuck it, and he leads anyone who will go with him into the Shiverpeaks to get to Kryta, including the PC. Some friendly dwarves help out (there were lots of dwarves back then), while the malevolent Stone Summit (who I think oppressed the dredge??) try to kill the refugees and end up just murdering Rurik for no particular reason. This series of events is why the Ascalonian sector of Divinity's Reach is "Rurikton," though he himself never made it to Kryta.

BTW, Rurik's sword would be found and seized by Rytlock many generations later. This is what Logan is referring to in GW2 when he snaps at Rytlock, "Gut me? With what? That human-made sword you looted from Ascalon?" And 200+ years after the fact, Adelbern is still grief-stricken by how terribly wrong things went with Rurik. His mental state seems to have declined even faster after Rurik's death, which Rytlock mocks him over in the Ascalonian Catacombs dungeon. This is a tangent, but, well.

After Rurik's death, you lead the refugees the rest of the way to Kryta. There, the also-theocratic but ostensibly benevolent White Mantle leadership of the country has offered you a settlement for the Ascalonian refugees. (The settlement is continually besieged but still standing in GW2, though the Ascalonians there are treated fairly dismissively.) You help the settlement and White Mantle for awhile before discovering the latter are super evil. You end up switching allegiances, and helping to overthrow them and place the daughter of the former king of Kryta (who fled during the Charr's triple invasion of Kryta, Orr, and Ascalon) on the throne.

(This post doesn't get into the invasions of Kryta and Orr, which don't have even the tenuous justification of the invasion of Ascalon. But they also happened around the same time, and the Orrians were terrified of experiencing what the Ascalonians did.)

The plot continues but is mostly unrelated to this arc. So you deal with Canthan stuff in Factions and then Elona stuff in Nightfall. And then, some eight or nine years after the Searing, you end up traveling wayyyyy north into Norn lands (this is the first time we encounter Norn) and discover a sanctuary there, the Eye of the North, which is actually home to a bunch of Ascalonians.

I can't remember if it's a GW2 retcon or not, but the Norn were actually pretty pro-Charr as far as the invasion went, apparently because they thought it was super badass, so they let the Charr pass through their lands. But they also let Ascalonian strike teams have a base up north, presumably also because they found it badass (I don't actually remember the rationale for the Ascalonian base otherwise).

Anyway. These Ascalonians are the early Ebon Vanguard, who at the time, are an elite force answering to King Adelbern and operating deep behind Charr enemy lines. Their numbers have grown, however, through the rescue and recruitment of human former slaves, prisoners, and refugees of the Charr. This matters because you're greeted by one of them when you arrive—a Vanguard member named Gwen.

Yup, it's her, at last.

So we find out what happened to her. She has some quests, and becomes both a hero (an NPC companion with a lot of player control options) and actually playable in a sort of mini-episode where you try to finagle her escape from the Charr and find out what her life was like before then.

Real bad, it turns out.

Back in/after the Searing, her mother was killed, and tiny Gwen wandered desperately around the devastated landscape, looking for help. This is kindly illustrated!

Instead, the Charr found her and enslaved her, which was apparently their standard practice for children. According to Gwen's official story, she "toiled under the constant lash" of Charr masters for seven years. Many other human slaves around her either broke and/or were killed. Gwen herself was afraid of the Charr but also developed a seething hatred of them.

At seventeen, she tried to escape and was quickly recaptured and judged useless by the Charr, except as a final entertainment. See, they had this fun practice of setting up gladiatorial matches inside their camps "for the glory of the legions." They'd set unarmed human slaves against wild animals and get a kick out of the humans being disemboweled (this is 100% canon!). So here's 17-y-o Gwen right before her planned disembowelment:

However! Gwen was smart and tricky enough to outwit the beast supposed to kill her, and she managed to kill it (iirc) and escaped into the labyrinthine tunnels below. These turned out to be the Charr's grisly depository for the bodies of those killed in the death matches over the years. Gwen was hardened enough by then to make her way through the dead, determined to escape for good. On the way, she discovered a book of mesmer spells and was able to learn them as she continued on.

She knew she'd be killed in an even more painful way if she were ever captured again, and the only thing to do was to keep going. She emerged from the tunnels and fled her pursuers, striking out for the mountains. On the way, she was discovered again—this time, by members of the Ebon Vanguard operating in Charr territory. She escaped with them, joined the Vanguard, and served them loyally.

That's not the end, though. By the time the PC meets Gwen, she is still very psychologically damaged, and part of her ruthlessness and rage comes from lingering fear. In the course of the plot, you end up freeing some Charr dissenters—not dissenters from the conquest or the Searing (this is explicit), but from being subject to theocratic rule based on gods who have turned out to be false (this is why Charr in GW2 are so hung up on trusting weaponry and "not false gods"). One of these dissenters is Pyre Fierceshot, a Charr hero by GW2 (and also a playable companion-hero in GW1). Gwen is immediately and intensely hostile towards him, as might be expected, while he proves to actually be trustworthy.

He calls her "mouse" (as Charr call all humans) and vaguely trolls her, but is ultimately fairly understanding of why she's so angry and scared. He turns out to be kind of trying to help her overcome her terror, and when the PC asks if he blames her for her rage and fear, he responds, "No. She was a prisoner of the Charr." But in his view, her fear is still crippling her and he's trying to get her to overcome it (because she's not useful!).

Gwen and Pyre end up cooperating in order to accomplish assorted things, but mainly working to spark a Charr revolution against the shaman caste whom Gwen and Pyre both have reasons to want gone (as does the PC, especially if you're a Prophecies character—and therefore an Ascalonian survivor of the Searing). Gwen does ultimately end up processing (some of) her trauma and overcoming her fear, and faces Pyre again. He asks if she's come to apologize, and this is what she says:

I want you to know: I do not like you. I do not forgive you. But most of all, I do not fear you. I hate you. There’s a difference.

me: 😍

I was concerned that her arc would culminate in her being shown to be wholly unreasonable and forgiving the Charr dissenters even though they're deeply complicit in what she, the PC, and their people have suffered. But no! She never forgives the Charr (at least in life), and she is never anything but a relentless opponent of them who seeks revenge and gets a lot of it, because she kills so many Charr that they remember her with fear and hatred as Gwen the Goremonger.

What an icon <3

Sometimes people will be like, well, the conflict depends on your POV, the Charr did bad things, but so did Gwen to become the Goremonger #bothsides. And I'm just like, "how dare you besmirch the honor of my blorbo, Gwen did nothing wrong in her entire life, THANKS."

But then we get to my least favorite part of her arc, though she remains incredible overall. It's the obligatory het stuff that I was complaining about awhile ago.

I don't know when they decided she was going to be the ancestor of the human mentor in GW2—maybe it was planned the whole time for Eye of the North (third expansion), maybe not. They had a sort of proto-Living World thing with new releases after the core Eye of the North story while working on GW2, which were meant to culminate in the founding of Ebonhawke. The arc got cut short because of a push from higher-ups to get GW2 out (RIP, Ebonhawke arc that I would have been incredibly into).

Some of what we did get, though, involved Gwen's romance with Keiran Thackeray, another member of the Vanguard. He made "advances" that she coolly rebuffed, but this turned out to be more a product of her trauma and difficulty connecting with people or trusting them than anything else. When she thought he and his unit had died, she was deeply upset that she'd never get the chance to make things right blah blah blah. It's got shades of Han/Leia in ESB, which would normally be a compliment (my favorite movie!), but isn't from me (I dislike the Han/Leia dynamic in 80% of ESB, actually!).

Anyway, he's not actually dead, and she's super relieved, and they end up getting married, and I suspect this whole "she needs to get over being cold and hard and he's just the guy to do it" dynamic exists mostly for the sake of Logan's existence in GW2. There's also a subplot involving her dead mother being on Team Keiran that I won't go into, but it all just feels kind of forced "of course our strong female character needs a man" to me.

It might annoy me a bit less if Logan, the result and likely partial cause of Gwen getting slated for romance, were not as bland as the romance itself. But while I generally like him, he is very milquetoast. I used to call him the beige heartthrob and even so, only realized how bland he is when I played a sylvari, and discovered the mentors are not all like that.

On the bright side, the obligatory het romance does not prevent Gwen from a life of righteous bloody vengeance. If anything, her husband likely helped out, which makes him slightly less annoying. They served together in the north until Adelbern sent the Ebon Vanguard and a suspicious number of civilians south to establish/fortify/defend Ebonhawke. Gwen's superior had died earlier and Gwen was in charge by then, and to go by the account in GW2, she made for an inspiring and hardcore leader on the way to Ebonhawke and in its defense over the rest of her life. She's a beloved hero and icon to the Ascalonians of over 200 years later, and her grave is still imbued with the magical power of being that cool.

#anghraine babbles #(this time very definitely for real)#long post #guild wars #guild wars 2 #gwen thackeray #althea barradin #prince rurik #adelbern #anghraine's pics #anghraine's gaming #ascalonian grudgeblog #pyre fierceshot #keiran thackeray critical #gwen x keiran critical #logan thackeray critical #anghraine's meta #gw1 spoilers

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ramblingdisaster73 · 2 years

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Trying to distract myself so to make the wait for next episode go faster but unable to completely shut down my 911ls monkey brain... How long do you think the owen&nazis storyline will span? We know it will be till at least ep6 but will it be the last? Will that storyline be wrapped up by ep8 when supposedly him and tk will talk? Or it will be a season long thing?

Personally I hope it will end soon, I dislike when specific villains drag on for an entire season. And I also would like lighter and funnier stories for Owen, like wedding shenanigans. I'm also hoping to see again his brother Robert, ideally with tk too,but I know I'm probably asking too much on that front.

I am seriously hoping it is all tied up by the end of 4x06 – I am also hoping that we don’t see a lot of it in 4x05 – that the truly focus on the Marjan & Grace storylines for the bulk of that episode.

I kinda think there might be some kind of cliffhanger at the end of 4x05 – to lead us into the end of this Owen is so desperate for friends his age that he almost joined a group of Nazis for a cool new nickname arc (sorry that is pretty much how I refer to it in my head.)

There are some things I really have liked about this arc:

Showed how easy it is for groups to entice new members – Make them feel like they have a place they can belong – but that the groups will do so while they hide their true intentions. *Owen is WANTS friends his own age – he doesn’t tend to look below the surface of people until someone else (in this & a lot of other cases – that is Judd) open his eyes.

Showing how these types of groups want to appeal to & add first responders to their numbers – it gives them a sense of legitimacy in their actions & goals (at least to themselves). – O’Brien being a founder is something that didn’t shock me at all – I said all along he was higher in the hierarchy than we were being shown at first. While he may have gotten out – It's not really easy to leave a criminal organization – even if you are a cop.

BUT – I think it would be great to have an Owen arc where he realizes he CAN’T always be the ‘hero’, the one in the thick of it. Where he doesn’t save the day.

They have this weird obsession with making him this big hero type character – but, they do it in a way that makes him look so incredibly stupid and naïve about how people are. Every time I watch these first 3 episodes, I just think he is more and more stupid.

In 4x02 Owen asked the FBI agent if it was him, that when it came to him making male friends his own age & shit inevitably goes wrong – Is the problem him? I yelled “Yes, it is you.”

He needs to look around him – see that what he is looking for while he fucks shit up with people like O’Brien, Billy, & Red – he already has – just with a guy that is a bit younger (Judd), a woman who is closer in age (Tommy), and the twenty-something that he practically adopted (Mateo).

Owen/Rob absolutely kills the comedic scenes –I love those scenes – the one in 4x02 of him & Tommy in his office makes me tear up from laughing so much. For me, these are his stronger scenes/performances. But they built the character up as this huge hero – a lot from being a 9/11 survivor – that they keep throwing him in these plotlines that have nothing to do with being a fire captain – just a naïve adrenaline junkie – and they keep making them longer and longer.

I understood why they stretched out the ice storm in season 3, there was so much going on – FOR EVERYONE – that they had to stretch it out. But, for season 4, they started with 3 main storylines:

Tommy & Reverend Parks – This was one of the focuses for the 1st two episodes – and will be coming back – this I think is one of the 2 season long arcs – Tommy really moving on after Charles

Carlos is married/Iris & Carlos getting kidnapped – This arc will be wrapped up this week (TOMORROW!!!) – but it only a piece of what I think the other season long arc is – Tarlos wedding (I am really leaning into it being at the end of the season). We will be getting pieces of this arc until the end.

Owen & the nazis. – I don’t know why they had to stretch this one through six episodes – unless they are running out of ideas for Owen – which, if that is the case, I have some they can use.

*The stills for 4x06 show Owen, O’Brien, the male FBI guy in the hospital room of Red (that is who it looked like to me) – So I do think that ep ends it. (Or at least I am trying to convince myself that it does).

Owen being desperate for male friends in his age bracket that will instead, just help him fuck up his own life is the series arc. Really all this rambling to say that I really hope the nazis are gone by the end of 4x06 – like really hoping.

I don’t think I will ever be able to trust a dude that is roughly Owen’s age that wants to be his friend – his track record is not encouraging.

#valerileygreen #911 lone star season 4 #911 lone star spoilers #911 lone star speculation #Owen Strand

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thezanyarthropleura · 1 year

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Film Ranking and Retrospective

So, after evaluating all twelve Gamera films based on purely objective metrics like turtle spin velocity, character development, how much I cried, number of potential sapphic relationships, and least amount of tapeworm, here they are from favorite to least favorite:

Gamera the Brave

Gamera: Guardian of the Universe

Gamera 3: Revenge of Iris

Gamera 2: Advent of Legion

Gamera: Super Monster

Gamera vs. Zigra

Gamera vs. Guiron

Gamera vs. Barugon

Giant Monster Gamera

Gamera vs. Gyaos

Gamera vs. Viras

Gamera vs. Jiger

Gamera the Brave takes the top spot for being so much more than it needed to be, perhaps taking a few steps outside what makes a typically good monster movie to just be an all-around great film. Of course, the Heisei trilogy still aren’t far behind, balancing the two a lot better than the Brave does and building an excellent cast of characters to the point that the hardest decision on this entire list, and the one I’m most likely to go back on at any moment, is ranking these three films against each other. Super Monster reaches for the stars just like the Brave does, daring to be something wholly unique despite its objective flaws, and is held back only by a gut punch ending after the likes of which I can’t actually make myself put it higher than the Heisei films. And of course, the rest of the Showa films are still going to end up ranked lower by being products of their time and having a relatively limited approach to in-depth storytelling, but there are still some I find exceptional for more unique reasons than I once thought I would. I even genuinely like most of Jiger, it’s just so much sensory hell it can be tricky to watch.

But my goals during this extended fixation weren’t really centered on pitting the films against each other - there was a lot of discovery, too. About halfway through March I did something I hadn’t expected I’d want to at the beginning, and bought myself the Arrow Video complete Showa era collection, mainly to get a physical copy of Super Monster but also with the bonus of getting to see Japanese versions of all eight films. In fact, I’ve now seen the Showa films probably just about any way one can see them, be that the subtitled original Japanese version, the AIP dub or first import English version, the Daiei pre-international dub (which I’ve learned is a more accurate term than “Sandy Frank”), the MST3K edition, the MST3K KTMA edition, the MST3K Fanmade edition, or specifically in Gamera: Super Monster’s case, the Elvira’s Movie Macabre edition or the Cinema Insomnia edition that’s missing a whole third of the movie.

That’s quite a lot of watching the Showa movies, and I think really a big theme for all of this was gaining a better appreciation of those films, specifically Noriaki Yuasa and his vision. He imagined Gamera as a hero for children, specifically because, as a child himself, living through the second World War and its aftermath, he came to believe adults were untrustworthy and too easily swayed by propaganda, and if that doesn’t make him the most relatable kaiju film directer of all time I don’t know what could possibly top it. Screw Gamera: Rebirth, the next one should be Gamera vs. Fox News.

Oh, right, speaking of which, I haven’t talked about that, either. And that’s because most of the major reasons I like the existing Gamera films so much tend to be more happenstance, and have little to do with how well they’ve followed the franchise formula. So far, nothing about Gamera: Rebirth has told me anything about how well it will handle its human characters, whether any of their stories will be relatable to me personally, whether it’ll have a strong environmental stance like Zigra, and actually with what we’ve seen of the cast, it seems like there aren’t going to be too many women in this series at all. Of course, that could always change, and there’s always a chance the one lady we’ve seen in the trailers could be compelling enough on her own to still make it a favorite, like with Mai in Gamera the Brave, but we won’t know anything for sure until release. But if, as seems most likely, Rebirth really is just a throwback to the early Showa era, I think now I can be a little more okay with that.

(I do actually quite like the monster designs revealed thus far. If I ever go back and write that possible Gamera vs. the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles sequel, there’s a good chance of that magenta Neo-Jiger showing up in the Triceraton arena).

I think, if I were to put into words what makes Gamera unique among kaiju cinema, it’s that Gamera is most consistently a story about a giant monster interacting with humans, in most cases one or more specific humans. When I write for Toho kaiju (and by that I mean Battra), I’ll admit I’m basically just using yet another combination of the 37853590434 creative ways people have come up with to tell a story that’s still really about humans but using the monsters as the characters - and we do this because the monsters do have character. Unlike most giant creatures in the west, Japanese daikaiju represent things, they have emotions and personal values and life purposes, and often unique dynamics in interacting with one another. But you can’t really do much with just this side of things for the Gamera franchise, since there’s not a single monster in any of the full-length films whose relationship with Gamera is anything but antagonistic. But Gamera is already about the relationship between humans and monsters, and that was what I wanted to specifically take these couple of months to explore here, as it’s very similar to the stories I've already been straying farther from canon in order to tell with the friends and enemies of the other Big G.

As far as most of the western kaiju fandom is concerned, having such a focus on humans might appear to be the biggest risk the Gamera movies ever took, given how many fans I often see dismissing the human characters as unimportant at best, annoying at worst. Personally, I beg to differ, and the more I rewatch these films, the more I’ve begun to appreciate how remarkable it is that this one subset of historical foreign cinema, with the characters it portrays and the values it represents, became embedded in western culture all because there happened to be a market for imported special effects films. There are actually quite a lot of kaiju movies whose stories inspire me to want to write about the humans as well as the monsters. But the top of that list, if I wrote it out, would probably be stacked with more Gamera movies than anything else.

#gamera #kaiju #tokusatsu #yuasa noriaki #noriaki yuasa #gamera the brave #gamera super monster #gamera vs zigra #a lesbian reviews all the gamera movies #gamera march #gamera april

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theredmaynefiles · 2 years

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It’s that time again - time for a new film featuring our favorite freckly man! And that means it’s also time for another fan interview! This was my fourth time speaking to Eddie, & it still never fails to surprise me how kind he is & how much he actually seems to enjoy speaking to us. He has called us (the fan bloggers) his “safe place” in the past, & that seems to still be true. Arranged for us by the ever amazing Charlotte (of @bespokeredmayne) & Eddie’s awesome publicist, Carrie, our interviews are a fantastic opportunity to support Eddie & get his thoughts on his acting. There were five of us speaking to him on zoom this time around – myself, Charlotte, Ivonne (@eddieronline), Ali (eddieredmayne.net), & Erina (@amazingeddieredmayne) , & we were all thrilled to speak to him about The Secrets of Dumbledore & Cabaret.

I have to admit, one of the things I was most excited about from the trailer was seeing Jacob being presented with a wand, so I had to ask Eddie’s thoughts about that:

Marci: I really love the relationship between Jacob and Newt — the chemistry plays so well together. How does Jacob receiving a wand and experiencing what it’s like to have magical powers impact that relationship in this film and potentially in the future?

Eddie: I have no idea, Marci. It’s interesting, because in some ways I’ve loved the new relationships that have developed in these movies, and I adore Jessica Williams, who brings such a new vibrancy to the films. But I also have a sense of sadness that on the first movie it was Katherine and Dan and Ali and I, and we got to interact a lot. And what’s strange about the movies now is that I sort of barely get to see any of those guys. Even though, when Jacob arrives on the train and Newt sort of — it wasn’t in the script, but I instantly wanted to give him a hug, because that’s uncomfortable for Newt, but at the same point, there is such love there between those two characters, and it’s sort of instinctive, and even though Newt isn’t particularly comfortable with physical interaction, there’s such joy there. Dan is a true improvisational genius, and across all of these films, some of the funniest moments have been his improvisations on set that end up in the movies. It’s a real delight to watch. Everything is 100 percent real coming out of his mouth, and I think when they saw in the first movie that Dan had that extraordinary facility, they sort of — certainly in this movie, less of course in Grindelwald — but they realized that allowing him to riff is part of the joy. So it’s such fun getting to work with him.

Marci: What for you was the most challenging part of making this film and what part did you enjoy the most?

Eddie: I suppose COVID was the most challenging thing. So I did a day of pre-shooting on a Friday, and it was a moment down in Newt’s case that actually was cut from the film, and while I was meant to start shooting proper on a Monday, I got a call on Sunday night saying, ‘This thing called COVID is causing us to stop.’ And it was four months or so until we started again. And the world had sort of changed, and coming back to the film set — first, we felt so lucky to be going back to work; I also felt complicated because Hannah was at home having to look after the little ones. I’d been helping to homeschool Iris, and suddenly I was allowed to go back to work and my life — although the process was completely different, as far as protocols and all the specifics of a COVID film set — I was able to go back to work. Whereas most of the world, and for Hannah, it was still having to look after two very young children. As far as the making of the film itself, they’re such big things. It’s really in David and Jo and Steve’s imagination, and we just come and deliver what we can and bring as much joy and life and vibrancy to it. I really enjoyed the silly dancing bit. It’s not often that, as you guys know, I get into something that’s comedic — so it’s fun. There’s a kind of physical comedy element to it that I really enjoy.

** You can check out the rest of our interview in Charlotte’s post here. **

Along with getting to speak to Eddie, Warner Brothers was amazing enough to provide us each with a screener copy so we could see the film & I have to tell you – this one lives up to the hype! We get to meet some interesting new creatures as well as seeing more of Jacob in the magical world with Newt, & there are some major jaw-drop moments that I still cannot get over & I know everyone is gonna be talking about over the next few days! Fantastic Beasts: The Secrets of Dumbledore is in theatres starting tomorrow!!

#Eddie Redmayne #Fantastic Beasts #secrets of dumbledore

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shizukateal · 3 years

Note

What are your thoughts/opinions on the LoliRock outfits?

I was working on the posts about the BRS and Doki Doki Precure girls, but since these girls have the same baseline they are quicker to review, so let's go with them.

General Thoughts

Obvious things first, none of them should be wearing the tails. They are completely incongruous with the structure of the outfits. Yes, I get that they are pop idols, but that is no excuse for putting so much pointless sheer fabric underneath outfits that seem so specifically tailored to allow free range of movement. The base itself is pretty good and I applaud how each of the girls' variations subtly changes it's "theme" so to say -for example Aurania looks more like an amazon in contrast with Talia's more "scholarly" prim and proper look while Iris does look like a more typical romantic popstar. That being said, the way the top segments into leaves can have the effect of elongating their torsos too much depending on how they're drawn in the moment, and the way and length at which they're cut can also make the visual transition to the skirt kinda awkward at times because the hard edges don't match the bulk of the skirts. The cuts of their specific symbols in the middle also feel kinda forced in a cheesy way although that's a pretty hypocritical thing for me to say, tbh- wait, the ends of the tails do the same thing ok that's a bit too far- but in any case they work well as a break. All in all the base is fine, but it could use some adjustments.

Iris

Ok, let's get the elephant out of the room first: what the fuck is up with that ribbon? This has to be the winner for the worst placement of that accessory I have ever seen. It looks out of place, difficult to draw, and uncomfortable. If they really wanted one that much, they should've just stuck it on the back. That and the tail aside we have the ugly two-layered skirt that only serves to briefly confuse the viewer about the proportions of this girl. The gold hemlines compete with each other, and they exacerbate the problem I said before about how the hem of the top can feel awkward when it doesn't follow the silhouette with the skirt. Instead of making her look more femenine or whatever it makes this weird square shape around her hips. I will congratulate her on the boots though, they are kinda country style, but in a pop-star way, very Hannah Montana. I'm also all about heart pendants and sweetheart necklines, especially on pink characters -hence why I'm a hypocrite for judging cheesiness. Her gloves are also very well chosen and the crown is nice.

Talia

Not much to say about this girl, her variation is pretty solid. I see she has a bracelet that kinda breaks with the symmetry of her gloves, but it doesn't seem too disruptive, so I'll let it slide. Not too thrilled about the double bubble ends of her staff, but meh, so be it, she earns some leeway.

Auriana

Ok, orange slice here has a good idea with her slightly more amazonian variations, even if I'm not quite sold on the sheer fabric underneath the strands. The mismatched gloves are kinda weird though.

Carissa

My only real problem with her, tail aside, is that I just don't like the front of her hairstyle. The hairpins and the loose strands just really highlight the amount of forehead and the very thin eyebrows.

Lyna

Sea-foam green, interesting. Her top is so cool that I kinda wish it was its own thing instead of having to be a part of this uniform, but all things considered she looks good. I think she would look better if the tops of her boots were different, though, or perhaps if she had some thigh-high socks.

#magical girl fashion #lolirock #lolirock iris #lolirock auriana #lolirock talia #lolirock carissa #lolirock lyna

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

´till death do us part

@911lonestarangstweek day 4 - m is for...mcd, mourning

if you saw my posts about the 'crying fic'... this is it

thanks to liz and @halsteadmarchs for the beta!

ao3 | 5.5k | major character death, hurt/comfort, mourning, non-linear narrative, car accidents, hopeful ending

This is a mistake.

It’s been a long time since Carlos last did this, but not long enough at the same time. His friends would disagree with him—they tell him he needs to get back in the game, and it’s well-meaning, but they don’t get it. They don’t know how hard these past few years have been for him.

They don’t know what it’s like to lose the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with; they don’t know what it’s like to go from being engaged one day to alone the next. In fact, there’s only one person Carlos knows who even has a hope of understanding, and he really doesn’t appreciate the irony that it’s the one person he’s guaranteed to never see again.

It’s not that he meant to turn himself into a recluse after it happened; he knows that’s not what he would want for him.

Thing is, Carlos isn't sure that he gets to have an opinion anymore, since he was the one who left. Carlos doesn’t blame him for what happened—that would be stupid—but sometimes, sometimes, he just gets so damn angry at him.

(he always feels guilty for it after, which is equally as stupid as the anger. there’s no one left for him to direct it at, after all)

Carlos sighs, shaking his head as he steps into the bar. He doesn’t want to be here—he wouldn’t be here, but Michelle had threatened to make a special trip back to Austin specifically to kick his ass if he didn’t at least give this a try.

This, being the blind date his friends had insisted he go on. Technically, he could leave and still not be lying when he tells Michelle he went—he is in the bar, after all—but Carlos has never liked the idea of standing someone up, no matter the circumstances.

So here he is. Alone at a bar, nursing a lukewarm beer, and wishing he were anywhere else.

Someone slides into the seat next to him, and Carlos barely gets a second to prepare himself before he’s met with a winning smile and sparkling green eyes.

God, why did they have to be green?

“Hey,” the guy says, still smiling. “Carlos, right? Nice to meet you. I’m Domenic.”

Carlos is still trying to catch his breath, his head thumping back against the wall of the bathroom stall they’ve ended up in, when lips brush his ear, hot breath sending electricity down his spine.

“I’m TK, by the way.” The whisper is rough, a smirk laced into it, like TK knows exactly what he’s done to him.

And Carlos is so far from fully-functioning that the only response he can come up with is a breathy, “I know.”

TK pulls back, his brows furrowing though there’s a wry quirk to his lips. “Didn’t take you for a Star Wars fan, but okay.”

Now it’s Carlos’s turn to frown as his addled brain struggles to put together TK’s thought process there. “What?”

“Never mind.”

Well. This took a turn. Carlos has no idea what’s going on, but there is something in the back of his mind that tells him he must have sounded like a creep, telling this guy he’s pretty much only just met that he already knows his name. He gestures lamely towards TK in explanation. “Your turn-out coat at the scene the other night. I thought it probably stood for something but then one of your team—Marwani, I think?—called you. So.”

Carlos shrugs, embarrassment quickly catching up with him, which seems absurd given what they just did. Then again, it’s been a long time since he’s done anything like this; he’s more of a wine-and-dine kind of guy than the type to make out with a near stranger in a less-than-sanitary bathroom.

But there’s something about TK Strand that has Carlos wanting to know everything about him.

And if everything starts here, well. He’s more than happy to take it.

Thankfully, TK seems to pick up on the sudden awkwardness in the stall. He takes a couple of steps back until he’s leaning against the opposite wall, which doesn’t really put that much space between them, but Carlos appreciates it all the same.

“So, do I get a name, or…?”

The question has Carlos flushing all over again, turning a bright red when he sees TK’s smile. He clears his throat and smiles, trying not to wince. “Carlos.”

“Carlos,” TK repeats, dragging the syllables out like he’s testing the sound of them on his tongue. Carlos shivers a little, his breath catching in his throat at the small smile that spreads across TK’s face.

Then a phone is being thrust in his hand, unlocked and opened on the Add contact page. “Put your number in,” TK says. “In case you ever, you know. Feel like doing this again.”

A thrill runs down Carlos’s spine at the thought that TK wants to do this again. Maybe he’s not the only one who feels this connection. Maybe…

Well. It’s too soon for that. But as he types in his number, Carlos can’t help but wonder where, exactly, this road might lead.

His house is quiet when he gets home. It’s a familiar kind of quiet, one that’s lain over the place like a blanket ever since that day three years ago. Carlos has gotten used to it over time, and he thinks that maybe it’s eased a little—but only a little.

Things haven’t changed much over the years. TK’s stuff still decorates the house, not as much as it used to, but Carlos hadn’t been able to bring himself to remove the stuffed bear that sits on the chair by their bed, or the plastic duck TK had insisted they have in the bathroom for ‘the vibes’, or the hand-sewn heart a little girl whose parents TK had saved had gifted him, which hangs proudly in their front window.

And the pictures; Carlos refuses to take the pictures down. The one sitting on his nightstand had been turned over for a long time after the accident, but now he can’t imagine going to bed each night without seeing it. It’s from their engagement party, a candid captured by Evie, a professional photographer in the making according to Tommy.

Carlos is inclined to agree—the photo, showing him and TK looking at each other, wide smiles on both their faces, is his favourite thing in the world.

His phone rings, making him jump. Carlos sighs heavily when he sees Michelle’s name flash up on FaceTime and he briefly considers declining, but there’s no way she’d be deterred so easily.

He takes a second to get himself together, then answers, plastering a smile on his face. “Hey chica.”

Michelle doesn’t waste a second in getting to the point. “So,” she says, leaning forward and grinning, “how’d it go?”

“It went.”

Her smile falters and she frowns, scrutinising him. “Did you even go?”

“Yes.” Carlos purses his lips, not wanting to get into it anymore, but Michelle is insistent and he’s too tired to make excuses right now. “His name is Domenic, he’s nice, I’m not seeing him again.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“Carlos.” Michelle sighs, her voice going quiet. “It’s been three years.”

“That’s not a long time.”

“I know.”

“I still dream about him, ‘Chelle,” Carlos cuts in, sudden tears overwhelming him. “I still—I still think about what I could have done differently to save him, I still imagine the future we could have had. I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. I don’t know if I can stop.”

“When Iris disappeared—”

“It’s not the same,” he snaps, harsher than he means to. “You always had that hope, right? Everyone was telling you Iris was dead, but you always believed that she would come back. And she did, and I am so happy about that, I am, but guess what, Michelle? TK is dead. He’s dead. I’m never gonna see him again—in fact, the last time I did see him, it was when his body was lying in a morgue, and he was so cold and so still and so—so not TK that I could barely believe it was him.

“But it was, because he’s dead. It’s not the same.”

He’s properly crying by the time he finishes his speech, and Michelle has tears in her eyes too. Carlos feels a little guilty now, but he can’t bring himself to be fully sorry for what he said. Still, Michelle looks crushed, and Carlos can’t lose his best friend.

One more loss would kill him, he thinks.

“Michelle, listen—”

“It’s fine, Carlos,” she interrupts, swiping a hand under her eyes. “You… You’re right. It’s not the same. I’ll just. I’ll leave you alone now. I’m sorry the date didn’t work out.”

Then she’s gone, and Carlos is alone again, the weight of it settling uncomfortably on his shoulders.

Their first real date is painfully awkward, reminiscent of covert high school meet-ups with boys in the nearby diners, or like that one time Carlos tried using a dating app. That had been an experience he’d wanted to forget, but now he finds himself recalling it in horrific detail as he and TK sit on opposite sides of a table, a plate of limp fries slowly cooling between them.

“So—”

“I was thinking—”

They both speak at the same time, and an embarrassed flush rises on Carlos’s cheeks. He swallows past the lump in his throat and gestures to TK, barely able to look him in the eyes. “You should go first.”

TK laughs and shakes his head. “I was about to tell you the same thing. Since when have things been this awkward between us? We fucked on the floor of your front room about a week after meeting, surely we should be well past this stage by now.”

He has a point.

Carlos laughs too and finally works up the courage to meet TK’s gaze. “I mean, it’s not like we were doing much talking back then.”

“Things are a lot simpler without clothes,” TK agrees, a suggestive lilt to his tone and, somehow, it’s all that’s needed to break the tense silence they’d previously been suffering in. Carlos grabs a fry, grimacing at the grease that instantly coats his fingers, and points it at TK.

“Cool it, Strand,” he warns. “You aren’t going to find it that easy to seduce me anymore.”

TK grins, his eyes sparkling. “Oh, we’ll see about that, Officer.”

Carlos is surprised when he wakes up the next morning to a text from Domenic.

Hey, it reads. Sorry about last night. I know that you’re not into me or whatever and that’s cool, but I like you. Do you think we could maybe still be friends?

He sighs and drops his phone onto his bare chest, arm flopping onto the other side of the bed. It’s funny, he thinks idly; before TK, he’d tended to sleep closer to the middle and it had never bothered him. Now, it feels weird to break from the way things used to be—in Carlos’s head, the left side is still TK’s, and the right his.

He knows what Domenic’s text implies. ‘Let’s be friends and then we can see how it goes’. Carlos could tell him now that it’s not going anywhere and save them both the trouble, but he kind of...wants a friend.

It sounds pathetic, even to his own ears, but all his friends are either fellow cops, the 126, or Michelle, who’s in another state. And Domenic was nice. So, really, what’s the harm?

Twenty minutes later, they have plans to meet at a coffee shop.

Ten minutes after that, Carlos arrives.

Carlos startles as TK’s arms suddenly slip around his waist, his chin pressing into Carlos’s shoulder. He quickly relaxes into the hold, covering TK’s hands with his own, but TK isn’t fooled.

“Where did you go?” he murmurs, breath tickling Carlos’s neck.

“Nowhere,” Carlos answers. “I was just...thinking.”

“About what?”

“Well…” He hesitates, biting his lip, then spins to face TK, letting their still-joined hands swing in the minute space between them. “This is crazy, right? Not, like, bad crazy—well, a little bit bad crazy; our last place did burn down—but all of this. Getting a house together. Three bedrooms. All of it. It’s crazy.”

TK grins, the little frown that had emerged at Carlos’s first words quickly melting away. “Completely,” he agrees. He kisses Carlos briefly, then steps away, breaking their hands apart to tread a slow circuit around their new front room. Carlos watches him fondly, somehow falling even more in love with him.

“You know,” TK says suddenly, his eyes roving around the empty space, “I’ve never actually done this before.”

“What do you mean?”

He waves his hands, gesturing at the flaking paint on the walls and the lack of furniture. “Decorated a house. I had an apartment in New York but that came fully-furnished and I didn’t exactly have a ton of stuff to add. And then when I moved here with my dad, I didn’t care too much about how the house looked, and you know how my dad is about interior design. It’s a little...scary, thinking about doing it now, with you.”

Carlos’s eyes widen, his heart clenching at the words. “Do you… Do you not want to do this?” he asks, half-dreading the answer. He’d thought they were both on the same page here, but what if… What if…

“What?” TK frowns, crossing the room in three quick strides to meet Carlos. “Babe, no, of course I want to. It’s a good kind of scary, I promise.”

“You sure?” Carlos scans his boyfriend’s face, searching for any hint of doubt or anxiety. But there is none, and TK just smiles, kissing Carlos’s cheek.

“A thousand percent,” he says. “It’ll be fun.”

(‘Fun’ isn’t the word Carlos would give to what came next. ‘Frustrating’, possibly. Or ‘exhausting’. Maybe even ‘interminable’.)

(But, at the end of it all, they have a home. Their home. And Carlos can see their future taking shape before his very eyes.)

Domenic grins when he sees Carlos approaching him, and a part of Carlos regrets even agreeing to come. But he can hardly turn around now, so he forces a smile and slides into the chair next to him, extending a hand to shake. Domenic sends him a strange look at that, but obliges anyway, shaking Carlos’s hand with a surprising firmness.

“Hey,” he says, still smiling.

“Hey.” Carlos sighs, taking in Domenic’s bright eyes and warm, hopeful face, and decides, fuck it. “Look, before you say anything, I just want you to know that I’m not looking for anything right now. My friends set me up on that date with you—and it’s not that I don’t think you’re a good guy, I honestly do, but—”

“Carlos.” Domenic appears to be fighting off laughter, though he’s not entirely successful in it, a brief chuckle slipping past his lips. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I know it sounds hard to believe, but I really am okay with being friends. Not that I wouldn’t mind seeing where it goes, but…”

He trails off, seeing what must be obvious doubt on Carlos’s face. “Look, I’m kind of new in town, alright? I don’t really know many people around here, and I’m just...fuck, man. I’m lonely. So if you wanna be friends, then that’s incredible and more than enough for me. I swear.”

And Domenic is looking at him so earnestly that Carlos really has no choice but to believe him. He feels himself flushing a bright red, embarrassed at how self-centred and narcissistic he must have seemed, and a stammered apology is halfway out of his mouth when Domenic reaches over and lays a firm hand on his arm.

“It’s no big deal,” he says, patting once before drawing back. “I do want to ask, though, if you don’t mind? Why did you come on the date if you didn’t want to? Not many guys would.”

Carlos huffs a laugh. “My friends think I’m turning into a hermit. It’s an assessment that I...wouldn’t disagree with. Let’s just say you’re not the only one looking for a friend.”

Domenic’s eyebrows quirk up in interest. “Oh? Anything to do with your unwillingness to date? I mean, a guy like you—it’s hard to imagine that you don’t have men practically throwing themselves at you. Maybe even literally. How come you’re still single? Is there...someone else?”

Carlos’s whole body tenses at the question, his gaze dropping to his hands and his heart in his shoes. Tension lies thick in the air, and he feels the sudden urge to flee, but he’s rooted to his chair, stuck under Domenic’s scrutiny.

“Shit,” Domenic says, voice hushed. “Carlos, I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to… Fuck, forget I said anythin—”

“I was engaged.”

Carlos hadn’t meant to say it. He doesn’t know why he did. It’s just… He hasn’t really talked about TK properly with anyone in the three years since; his friends were all TK’s friends too, and they all knew him—knew them.

This is the first time he’s actually spending time with someone who didn’t know, and it’s not freeing exactly, but it’s the first time he feels free to speak about TK the way he wants to, without anyone else’s memories looming over it.

“I’m not anymore, obviously,” he laughs wryly, finally managing to look back up at Domenic, finding shock on his face. “It was… It ended.”

Domenic’s mouth opens and closes several times before he’s able to pull himself together enough to speak. “Who called it off?” he asks—which was not what Carlos was expecting. “Because if it was him, man. He really missed out there.”

Carlos hesitates a moment, then answers, “It was him. But it wasn’t on purpose.” He breathes out shakily, swallowing hard. “He died a month before the wedding.”

Carlos smirks as he hears a groan at his back, glancing over his shoulder to find TK pretending to bang his head on the table. “Having fun, babe?”

Another groan. “Let’s just elope. Let’s get married in some random courthouse by some random Texas official. That way we wouldn’t have to figure out stuff like a seating plan or—or what kind of cake knife to use. I mean, babe.” TK sends a pleading look in Carlos’s direction, and Carlos can’t help but laugh, cruel though it feels when TK’s wounded expression just gets worse.

“I’m pretty sure my mother and your dad would kill us if we did that,” he points out, causing TK’s mouth to twist.

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“No, you don’t.” Grinning, Carlos turns back to his chopping, except, when he reaches out for the next ingredient, he only meets empty space. “Mierda. TK, babe, can you run to the store? I forgot the chilis.”

“Can’t you just leave them out?”

There’s a hopeful note to TK’s tone, but Carlos stands firm—his cooking is the one thing he’s able to resist TK for. “You’d think you’d be used to spices by now,” he comments. “And the answer is no; go on. You’ll barely even taste them.”

TK mutters his disagreement, but he gets up and leaves anyway. Carlos watches him go, shaking his head fondly before returning to dinner. Technically, he could leave the chilis out, but he’s been brought up to consider even the mere suggestion as sacrilege, and he’s not planning on letting TK persuade him otherwise any time soon.

Twenty minutes later, he’ll regret that decision more than anything else in the world.

“Carlos, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to—”

“I want to. As long as you’re okay with it; I don’t want to just unload all over you.”

“It’s okay, I promise. What are friends for?”

Carlos frowns, checking the clock. TK should have been back by now; the store is only a five minute drive from their place, and surely he would have texted if he was going to be delayed. He’s about to call him himself when his phone starts ringing, TK’s name flashing up on the screen.

He sighs in relief, answering the call. “Did you get lost or something?”

Silence.

“TK?”

Nothing again, and Carlos’s panic starts to skyrocket. “TK!”

And, this time, he gets an answer.

“C-Carlos.”

Carlos’s heart drops into his stomach at the rasp of TK’s voice. He sounds like he can barely breathe—in fact, if Carlos strains to listen, he can hear stilted, ragged breaths coming through the phone’s speakers. TK is hurt, probably seriously, and, fuck, it was Carlos who sent him out in the first place, this is his fault, he—

“Carlos, please.”

He breaks out of his spiral and clutches his phone tight to his ear, racing around the house to get his shoes on and grab his keys. “TK, where are you? I’ll find you, I promise I will, and you’re gonna be just fine, okay?”

TK doesn’t speak for a few seconds, before, “No.”

Carlos screeches to a halt. “What?”

“I don’t—I can’t tell you where I am. I don’t know. And there’s—there’s no time. No— Someone found me, they called 9-1-1, but they won’t—there’s no time.”

“TK, don’t you dare give up, okay, don’t you dare talk like that. You just need to focus on my voice and stay awake for a little while longer and then they’ll get you to a hospital where they’ll fix you up. You’ll be good as new right in time for the wedding.”

“The wedding. Carlos, I—”

“And if this is your way of getting out of making all the decisions, then it’s a little bit over the top, you know? I mean, point proven and all that, but you could have just told me.” He’s getting hysterical now, he can feel it, standing in the middle of his front room trying to keep his fiancé alive and talking when he’s god-knows-where in god-knows-what condition.

But, as always, TK is there to centre him again. “Carlos, stop, please.”

Carlos doesn’t know if it’s the way TK’s voice is getting quieter and quieter, his energy obviously flagging, or if it’s his pleading tone, but he’s suddenly struck completely still. He can’t move a muscle, every sense tuned into whatever is happening on the other end of the phone.

“I don’t—I don’t want to spend the time we have left lying to each other,” TK eventually says, his words riding on broken breaths now. “I don’t want to leave you, but I think… No, I know that I have to now. I’m s-so sorry. I wish… I wish we…” A gasp, and a horrific cough that sounds like it’s tearing TK apart. “I love you.”

Carlos doesn’t get a chance to reply before there’s a loud thud, and it doesn’t take him long to figure out what caused it.

TK dropped the phone.

TK passed out.

It’s salt in the wound when, seconds later, Carlos hears the wail of sirens approaching the scene.

There are tears dripping down his face as he tells Domenic of the sheer, gut-wrenching panic and fear of those next few minutes.

How he’d been unable to put the phone down, instead listening as the screech of machinery and the raised voices of firefighters and paramedics drifted through the speakers.

How the noises had dimmed when they extracted TK, and how Carlos had strained to listen as the paramedics began to work on him.

And how, when he’d heard those final words, his world had come crashing down.

“I’m calling it. McRae, radio it in to the ME’s office.”

This isn’t happening.

Carlos cannot be sitting in his parents’ backyard, at his fiancé’s wake, in the same place and wearing the same suit that he was supposed to be getting married in a month from now.

He—

Fuck.

Carlos presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and curls in on himself, barely suppressing a moan of agony at the pain in his chest. He’s distantly aware of everyone’s gazes on him, but he can’t stop this tidal wave of emotion anymore than he can turn back time and change the fact that TK is dead and that Carlos failed him.

TK died all alone, and Carlos didn’t get the chance to say goodbye or tell him that he loved him. He couldn’t even bring himself to speak at the funeral—the one thing, the last thing he could do for the love of his life.

Instead, when it was his turn to speak, he’d been frozen in his chair, eyes locked on the coffin—(and, fuck, TK was in there, that was TK, fuckfuckfuck)—and Judd had had to take over.

Carlos hadn’t heard a word he'd said, though he’s sure it was beautiful, and everything that TK deserved.

Everything that Carlos couldn’t give him.

He failed him, he failed, he—

“No,” a hushed voice says, warm arms pulling him into a tight hug, and Carlos must have been talking aloud without realising because the voice keeps reassuring him. “You didn’t fail, sweetheart, you didn’t, I promise. You were there for him at the end and that’s all that matters; that he wasn’t alone when it happened. I know it hurts but it’s okay, it’s all going to be okay.”

Carlos tenses, wanting to scream at whoever’s holding him because how could anything possibly be okay? But when he pulls out of their grip, he sees that it’s Gwyn, her eyes red and cheeks tear-stained, and all Carlos can do is fall apart in his not-quite-mother-in-law’s arms.

She keeps whispering that it’s okay, and Carlos knows that it’s as much for her own benefit as for his.

“Hey sweetheart,” Carlos whispers, getting out of his car and leaning against the closed door. He always comes here when he wants to remember TK; it is where they said goodbye to him after all. And it’s the place where they had so many important moments—it’s where they became official, and where they finally spoke openly and completely with each other for the first time, and where they got engaged.

It’s their place, ridiculous as it might sound.

“Remember that night?” he asks, even now feeling a little self-conscious talking to the air. “I made you a picnic and we came out here to eat it and you somehow managed to get chocolate on your nose from the chocolate-covered strawberries.” Carlos chuckles, then sighs wistfully. “You were so beautiful. I had this whole plan to propose to you, but one look at your face and that damn bit of chocolate and I forgot the entire thing.

“I just blurted it out, right there and then. ‘Marry me, Tyler Kennedy’, and you said yes, and it was perfect.”

He blinks furiously, tears beginning to blur his vision. “I thought… But it was too perfect, I guess. Perfect things never last, and since I was never going to leave you, the universe forced you to leave me.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. It’s nothing you don’t already know, and I’m not sure if I even believe that you can hear me. I never used to, back when we were together, but things change when suddenly the one who’s gone is someone you love. I’d give anything, Ty, anything to talk to you again, so I’m here.

“You know… Just in case.”

His hands tremble and he swallows reflexively against the pain and grief crawling up his throat. He reaches inside the car through the window and grabs the bouquet of flowers he brought with him off the passenger seat.

It’s the same one he always brings whenever he comes out here—red camellias, hydrangeas, blue salvias, and forget-me-nots—all flowers that have meaning to them and their relationship. Hydrangeas for understanding; it had been the first flower TK had given him, his way of saying thanks for sticking around even after their disastrous beginnings.

The camellia, Carlos had gifted TK one anniversary. It means ‘you’re a flame in my heart’, which TK always was, always, and Carlos had found it a little funny too, given TK’s background. TK had loved it, and had made sure to tell Carlos in as many ways as he could think of that he felt the same.

The salvias were something they both did, often and at random, sometimes with no particular reason. Just whenever they wanted each other to know they were thinking of them—though, that was something they knew anyway.

Carlos had added the forget-me-nots himself after… After it had happened. It’s a reassurance, both to him and to TK, that he’s not forgetting; that he never will.

That he can’t, even now, three years down the line.

On shaky legs, he walks over to the tree a little distance away, laying the bouquet between the roots almost reverently. Carlos stares down at them long after he’s straightened back up, leaning against the tree, and he allows the memories and the pain to overwhelm him for a moment.

“Can you believe it’s been three years?” he asks the empty air, shaking his head. “I swear, I still miss you like it was yesterday; it doesn’t seem real that I haven’t seen you or kissed you or heard your voice in three whole years.

“I’m going to see your dad later. He’s… He’s doing okay, all things considered. He misses you—we all do—but I think he tries to hide it, like he has to be the strong one for everyone else. Don’t worry though, Ty, we’re looking after him. Making sure he doesn’t, you know. Do anything stupid.

“Your mom helps out a lot too, her and Enzo and Isaac. God, TK you’d be so proud of Isaac now—he’s started school, making loads of friends, and he’s just… He’s such a good kid. I wish you could see him; he was so young when you— You’d be amazed at how big he’s getting. And, hey, we’re making sure that he knows who his big brother was, so...so don’t worry about that either.”

Carlos hesitates before continuing; it feels weird to talk about Domenic here. He doesn’t need to, he knows—technically, there’s nothing even going on between them, though Carlos couldn’t deny how good it had felt when Domenic had hugged him when they parted ways after coffee. But there’s been a weird lump of guilt sitting in his stomach since that first date at the bar, and Carlos figures that TK deserves to know about it.

Even if he’s three years dead and probably can’t hear any of this.

“I met someone, you know,” he says, trying to keep his tone light. “It’s not like that, we’re just friends, but I think… I think maybe it could be like that? Maybe? I don’t know, Ty. I thought I’d never be able to love anyone in that way ever again, but Domenic is so kind and sweet and he makes me wonder if there’s a chance.

“I’m terrified. It’s—It’s stupid and selfish, but I’m so scared of getting hurt again, of having to go through what I went through with you again. Not that I blame you for the accident, it’s just… I can’t do it again. I can’t.

“God, even considering this feels like I’m betraying you. I do hate you a little for that; you still own so much of my heart and I’m never getting it back, whereas all I have of you are your hoodies and your mugs and that goddamn stuffed bear. Why did you have to go and ruin me like that, huh? Why, TK?”

He’s almost shouting now, but the question fades unanswered into the air, and Carlos’s anger vanishes with it. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t… I don’t hate you. I love you so much, and I always will, but I think maybe it’s time for me to let some of that go. I can’t carry on like this for much longer; you understand that, right?”

And maybe he’s imagining it, or maybe it’s just a coincidence, but the breeze picks up a little then, gently ruffling Carlos’s curls, and it feels like… It feels like peace.

He closes his eyes, and for a moment, it’s like he can feel TK there, like he never left at all.

I know, it feels like, his voice ringing loud and clear in Carlos’s head. I love you.

“I love you, too,” Carlos whispers, opening his eyes. TK isn’t there, of course, but, somehow, he doesn’t feel so empty anymore.

Then, with one final glance at the flowers, Carlos turns and walks away, his heart feeling lighter than it has in three years.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #michelle blake #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userbones #userjillian #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #reyeslonestartag

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thelostmoongazer · 5 years

Photo

sooooo this is an au thats been in the works for a few weeks now! Ive been calling it the ForgetMeNot AU but @spudinacup has been calling them the Dust Bunnies and i just.... lets just say its an alternative name

to put this au in the briefest description, this is a direct spin-off of the GONE WRONG AU (thank you spud for enabling me) where a divergence in events leads to Steven's body getting cremated and his ashes being spread over the hill where Steven died/where the injector landed, for ceremonial purposes. This au also incorporates a theory/au that @faranae has that involves the injector originally being used to create new gems/spinels. With this in mind, cremation ashes are commonly used to create diamonds to put in jewelry as memorabilia. So, with those two concepts in mind... i’m sure you can see where im going with this

(This au is based entirely around the events that will happen in the GW AU, events that I am in no way privy to how they occur so i’m just here for the ride, folks)

READ UNDER THE CUT FOR MORE DETAILED CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS AND NOTES

•Cloud•

Pronouns: They/them (occasional he???)

Age: Last to emerge

Flaw: Twinning wisps (in layman’s terms, when too many outside elements interfere and stunt the growth of the diamond) (design more heavily based on this)

Symptoms: light projection is underdeveloped. Black misshapen “skin” is warped over crystalline “nursery clusters”. (I headcanon that in the early stages of gem growth, their entire form is nothing more than a small, light projection cluster of the gem their made of, but then this condenses into one spot, the gem, thus leaving behind the refined light projection and hardening the gem.) The underdeveloped skin is black/reddish because of the presence of other elements, receding it’s formation.

Personality: All three are curious about the world, sure, but only Cloud is as forward with their intrigue. They have the mentality of “This interests me, I am going to learn more.” Which often leads them to invading boundaries and personal bubbles. They are the most likely out of the three to ask questions and strike up conversation (that is, at least, when they learn English. Even though I can still see them trying to anyway even with broken English lol) making them very charismatic and friendly. This, in turn, makes Cloud act as the three’s door to learning more about this new world they’ve found themselves in.

Other Notes: - Representation of Pink Diamond. Poofy pants, Leotard over pants, Flats. Their Personality also reflects this, mimicking Pink Diamonds childlike curiosity and hunger for knowledge about life on earth. - Meant to mimic Steven’s friendly nature.

•Sky•

Pronouns: She/He/They

Age: second to emerge

Flaw: Clouding

Symptoms: Pigment discoloration around eyes paired with iris colomba (poor vision)

Personality: Sky is the grounding force of the group, they are the one to bring them back down to earth and be the calm when either of them go into their own heads too much. They are also fairly curious about the world but isn’t as direct about it, mostly preferring to observe from afar unless encouraged (or enabled) by the others (*coughcough* cloud *coughcough*) this isn’t to be confused with skittish, though. If sky were to be approached by someone unknown they wouldn’t run away, they’d most likely stay where they are and give you a funny look. Sky will often need encouragement, direct or indirect, from the other two to make their own willing decisions, and will often parrot cloud or slug. Sky will often act as their dictionary or mental catalogue. If one of them forgets the word to something it’s likely sky will be the one to remember it.

Other Notes: -Representation of Rose Quartz. Shawl layer in the shape of RQ’s dress, loose ringlets, bare feet. Their personality reflects Rose Quartz’s mature and nurturing energy with the deep love for all those they hold dear. - Meant to mimic Steven’s caring spirit -due to iris colomba, her vision is very poor. But a symptom of iris colomba is the presence of floater spots in ones vision which, in children, can lead to a more developed use for peripheral vision. This is the case for Sky.

•Slug•

Pronouns: He/They

Age: First to emerge

Flaw: Black Inclusions (bits of spinel?)

Symptoms: Black splotches all over body, mental conflict (short temper, mild co-dependency)

Personality: Being the first to emerge, Slug takes on the role of protector. This makes him very defensive and slightly possessive of the other sibling. He is the most antisocial of the group but can be easily swayed into any activity by the other two, especially when it comes to affection. He typically comes off as crass and rude to strangers (or anyone who isn’t sky or cloud), but if his trust is earned (with a lot of effort) he will show it rather than say it. Slug is the most visually observant and spatially aware out of the two and acts as their sharper set of eyes (this also going hand in hand with their role as protector).

Other Notes: - Representation of Steven. Jacket, (comparatively) shorter curly hair, sandals. His personality reflects Stevens protective nature (and temper) and desire to help. Wanting nothing more than to be useful to those he cares about most. - Meant to mimic Steven’s will to fight

•Overall Notes•

• These gems emerge about 3-4 or so months after the current events of GONE WRONG (THIS IS LIKELY TO CHANGE)

• Each gems deformities/premature emergence all make these gems extremely brittle compared to a normal perfect cut diamond (or even a regular gem for that matter)

• 3 gems instead of one was the fact that a pink diamond, in essence, is practically identical to a white diamond, as far as whats in it’s chemical compound to effect it’s color. With this in mind, its been explained before that White Diamond carries the essence of the entire spectrum. If this is true, then why wouldn’t a pink diamond if they’re practically identical? Therefore, the result of adding those residual properties of a pink diamond from within the ashes, would produce the “purest” forms of the spectrum. White, yellow, and blue. All of them tinted slightly with an ashy pinkish hue.

• Many things were factors in their premature growth, but a main factor is the amount of injector fluid that was provided in the growing process. When spinel first lands the injector, its very apparent that there is plenty of fluid injected into the hill right upon impact. But in this circumstance, after the current events in Gone Wrong, the injector goes idle (or is possibly removed and relocated by/to Little Homeworld but that is completely up in the air and reliant on future events in GW.) and what little fluid was left behind by the injector was what was used to grow the three gems

• Currently, their vocabulary is very limited. They will normally speak in 1-3 word sentences unless they are parroting. Although, given that they are technically elite gem, albeit deformed, they do have the programming for an advanced ease of grasp on language.

• Because of their human influence, they have taken on specific traits of Steven. Yes, different physical aspects (facial features, body type, clothing, etc.) but they also gained instincts from Steven. Not to be confused with memories, but rather impressions of specific muscle memory. Although they don’t need to, they will sometimes desire sleep or food, often unknowingly acting on human instincts. They will even find themselves drawn to specific things/places/people, finding them familiar or warming up to this thing/place/person with ease. (e.g. feeling familial attachment to Pink!Steven not long after first contact with him, with the exception of Slug (lol)) This can include, but is not limited to, other absent minded behaviors; such as, inflections in speech, subtle ticks (i.e. humming, tapping feet, idle movements), specific hand gestures, ect.

#SU AU Gone Wrong #SU AU GW #ForgetMeNot AU #FMN AU #su #steven universe #steven universe au #moon ocs #Cloud #Sky #Slug #moon art #digital #ref sheet #this is the most thought ive put into an au in a while.... and the last time i did that it turned into soi LOL #a taaaad nervous to post this ngl heeeeeheheh;;

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ecrivant · 4 years

Text

on intimacy pt. 1 | levi ackerman

(levi ackerman x reader)

as the trauma of soldierhood begins to weigh on you, you turn to levi for comfort. a quiet exploration of damage and the intimacy shared by two. read pt. 2 here.

a.n. – stop me if you’ve heard this one before: a fanfic where the reader has a tender encounter with levi in his office. i think i’m on the brink of discovering a writing trope no one has ever used before! don’t worry, we explore the incertitude and conflation of platonic and romantic intimacy, i swear i’m different, and i swear this is a character study and not just wish fulfilment.

touch is the reader’s love language.

word count: 1.9k

Ferric miasma hangs in the air, low to the earth, a gauzy tulle of dawn fog. Beneath it, terra inked with sanguine dew. You stand above your parents’ mangled corpses, still. Blood roars in your ears, your face pulsates, hyperaware. You hear your eyes dart between your mother’s slack jaw, ripped from the cheek, and your father’s deranged expression, one eye hanging from the socket by a tendinous cord. Freckled complexions washed in red. Lifeless amputees, limbless, silent, barely even there.

An immense umbra engulfs you; you have no feeling as you’re lifted into the air, ascending towards an obscure ether, pulled away from the statuesque corpses that lie beneath, overlooking a perverted vignette, figures composed in beguiling agony, a foreground washed in vermilion. A feverish vise clutches your unmoving form, and soured iron permeates your nostrils as teeth crush your skull—you hear the sickening crunch of bone, the pulping of your brain as it seeps between fractures, but you feel nothing at all.

You woke with a heave in the dark of the barracks, unclenching your teeth and forcing your jaw apart. You searched in the dark until eyes find the dawn light. Everything was still; no one had stirred at your outburst. Why dream of them now? Your index and middle fingers wrapped around your wrist, feeling rapid palpitations, matched with an inbound throbbing behind your eyes. You focused on a gouge in the wall opposite and listened to the steady breathing of your teammates, slowing your pulse, grounding yourself.

An ambient hum hung in the air: the world’s low, ceaseless murmur. In the white noise, you heard remnants of a familiar melody—something quiet your mother used to sing to you, something formless and only heard in that vague void between wakefulness and sleep. Knowing it wasn’t there yet still listening intently, you grasped onto the wispy tones, and found yourself lost in nothing, and allowed yourself to fall into a dreamless sleep. Your mind produced no images, yet you sensed an incoming danger that left you restless.

You came to with Mikasa gently shaking your shoulder. Her expectant gaze hung above you.

“Training starts in ten minutes.” Said with gentle urgency.

You were inexplicably struck still, as if the thought of getting out of bed was paralyzing. You sat up but didn’t move further.

“Don’t wait up.”

You felt a hand in yours as Mikasa kneeled, quietly examining you. Her concerned eyes would be too much; you kept your gaze in your lap. She ran her thumb over your hand, as if to ask if you were okay. No response, and her hand slipped out of yours. She drifted towards the door.

“I’ll tell Captain Levi.”

—

A lifeless automaton, you eventually found yourself on the field just as everyone began warming up, feeling Levi’s eyes on your face as you wordlessly slipped into the drill.

“I expect punctuality at all times, not just when you feel like it.” Like a knife.

Steel eyes, annoyed. Concerned. You let the reprimand linger as dull shame settled in your chest.

“Yes, sir.” You apologized with your gaze.

—

Your tailbone struck the ground hard, birthing a shockwave that emanated through your spine. You made no moves to get up. Your respiration had ceased, and you fought against your sternum for breath. Hands gripped at loose soil, desperate for tangibility.

Eren began to gloat but cut himself off when you didn’t respond to his outreached hand.

“Hey, what’s with you?” He kneeled as he spoke, leveling himself with your gaze.

You swallowed hard, tasting tears. Panicked. The thought of death lorded over you, taunting, ready to crush you underfoot.

“I—I don’t know.”

You were vaguely aware of Eren calling for Mikasa, strong hands lifting you, bodies supporting your dead weight. The infirmary, hazy voices, ‘trauma,’ disembodied grey eyes, nervous observation. Void, melting away, drifting.

Your sleep was restless, filled with ravaged bodies, flayed flesh. As you finally awoke, you watched the glistening sinew creep up the walls, branded into your vision. Wordless, fearful babbling.

A strong hand pressed into your shoulder, pushing you back onto the mattress. Levi stood above you, expressionless, eyes roaming over your face. His hand remained until your expression calmed. The croak of your voice, your uncontrolled panic—you were humiliated. Eyes looking anywhere but him.

“I’m sorry, Captain.”

He scoffed.

“Stop thinking.” He let go of your shoulder and held out a glass of water, bringing it to your lips to drink. A worthless invalid.

He stayed with you for hours. Neither spoke. At one point he asked if you wanted him to leave—you admitted you didn’t.

Your hand rested on the edge of the bed, and he grabbed it without thinking. In spite of yourself, your face flushed at the contact. His touch was comfort, an unspoken assurance. When the nurse came to check on you, his grip stayed firm.

You were released the next day to a group of concerned teammates. Levi ordered them to stand down, but the words of your superior were no match for their worry. Despite insisting you were fine, they treaded lightly, on eggshells. Eren led you to the dining hall, a plate already prepared and sitting at the table with Mikasa and Armin.

“Please treat me like I’m normal.” Spoken with a hollow smile, a slapdash attempt at humor, normalcy.

Flushed, Armin rushed to insist you were normal; Eren denied any special treatment; Mikasa watched you carefully, as if she were afraid a heavy gaze would break you. You did feel the weight of her gaze, this time meeting her eyes, and you felt your chest swell. Her concern cut through you, warming your face. You tried to calm the rest of your friends down, but things began to escalate when Connie and Sasha joined in, mentioning they were glad you weren’t mentally ‘fucked up,’ to which Jean shushed them. Glares and overlapping, apologetic rambling overwhelmed you. You were grateful for their concern but only in doses.

Levi eyed your antics from his seat, recognizing your discomfort. He crossed the room in long strides, silencing the table with his arrival.

“Can I speak to you in my office?” His words were deadpan, but his eyes held no malice. You nodded, grateful he read you, and followed him out of the room.

—

“You’re not to train for the rest of the week.”

You couldn’t suppress your shock, which quickly turns to shame.

“Captain, I’m sorry. I won’t let my emotions interfere—”

Levi rolled his eyes, cutting you short. You shifted from foot to foot, unsure of what to say.

“It’s not punishment. Believe it or not, I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing.” Deadpan. You had assumed you would have acclimated to his way of speaking, but it still gave you pause. You couldn’t help you felt patronized by him.

You stood in front of his desk, looking at his cheeks, his forehead, feigning eye contact. His gaze bore into you.

“You’re not a special case. This has happened before.” Again, that equivocal, Levi-specific dialect. Did he mean to comfort you? You stayed silent, implicitly encouraging him to explain.

“It just—it happens when a soldier isn’t,” he paused, breaking eye contact, choosing his words carefully, “hardened.”

He returned his gaze to you.

“It doesn’t mean you’re weak, brat. You’re just still sensitive.”

You processed his words.

“How do you become strong?”

His eyebrows raised, fractionally. He set his jaw, his neutral expression returning.

“I just said this doesn’t mean you’re weak. You are strong.”

“I mean, how do I avoid more of these episodes?” You didn’t mean to raise your voice—you despised the desperation that slipped through.

“Just watch more people die.” He eyed your reaction, taking in your surprise.

“I don’t mean to be callous: it’s just a matter of exposure. Each death you see or cause or cannot prevent carves at your insides until you’re… hollow. And you have to let it happen.”

You were silenced, winded by a realization of a reality of unceasing cruelty. It was something you had always known, but to be faced with it so explicitly? You felt eviscerated.

“Many die before they reach that point—empathetic and afraid.”

Your knees threatened to buckle—Levi was quick to rise and support you. He apologized for going too far.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

You insisted it was not his fault. He only spoke a truth you were simply not ready to face. Levi led you over to his desk chair and you shakily sat. He stood before you, unmoving, before walking away, giving you space—moments later, deciding against it, he turned at the heel and returned, kneeling in front of you. He grabbed your hands, and you felt his breath on your face. Meeting his gaze, you saw an uncharacteristic softness, iris wavering. You wondered if he liked speaking to you, holding you. You wondered what would happen if you placed a chaste kiss on his lips. Levi’s smell struck you—it was familiar, nostalgic; it reminded you of home. Of a past, forgotten. Of the sunshine streaming through your grandmother’s kitchen window, the smell of your father’s tobacco pipe, your mother’s vanilla perfume. You couldn’t remember the last time you imagined any of them alive, rather than lifeless viscera.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, retreating as fast as you had advanced. It was chaste, demure, and you watched Levi remain motionless, wide-eyed. Red shame crept up your neck into your face, but you instead focused on his shock—what was the last thing that truly surprised your captain?

Your captain—captain.

Reality set in and your eyes widened in horror. Impulse driven by an entirely constructed, drunken, nostalgic familiarity. You felt more faint than you had in days. It wasn’t even an especially passionate moment, more awkward and quiet and, frankly, underwhelming. Maybe that was what made a first kiss special: the unique mundanity of it. You wished you could revel in the indistinctness of the moment—but instead, you fearfully eyed Levi, half-embarrassed, half-angry that you would so blatantly and thoughtlessly overstep that boundary. You retraced your thoughts: had you ever been captivated by Levi, or were you caught up in the moment of comfort he offered you? The intimacy of familiarity, amity? Maybe a bit of both.

You watched as he finally recovered, defaulting to his normal expression. He didn’t have a tell, except for the deep red that tinged the tips of his ears. He pulled away, returning to his standing position and cutting you off before you had the chance to speak.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He spoke firmly, softly. Idiosyncratically Levi.

Emboldened by some deep irrationality, you spoke, not shying away from his gaze: “It felt nice, sir.”

He was silent again, short-circuited by your boldness. You hung, suspended, in the tension of the room. He eventually confirmed your statement, agreeing.

“It did.” Bewildering for the both of you.

You insisted you needed to go back to your room and try to get some sleep, a cumbrous mess of meaning and filler words, and Levi didn’t stop you. There was no declaration of love, nor did he beg you to stay the night with him. You stood up and left, and as you shut the door, you looked back and caught a smile break through Levi’s look of consternation.

—

haha! part 1 of 2! i know we’re all horny and want levi to just ravage us, but i honestly think he wouldn’t know what to do with intimacy and physical touch and i will die on this hill if i have to! anyway, feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated!

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x reader #aot imagines #aot x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman imagine #writing!

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greatwyrmgold · 2 years

Text

I’ve been kinda obsessed with HoloCure lately (as indicated by my character guides and general-advice guide), and I’m trying to burn that obsession out by writing about it. And today what I’m writing about is weapon collabs.

For those who don’t play HoloCure: Like in Vampire Survivors and some games you’ve probably never heard of, your Vtuber of choice runs around with a bunch of weapons going off at predetermined intervals. You can collect up to six weapons at a time; “collab weapons” are what this game calls weapons you make by combining two other weapons. Two weapons are turned into a weapon about as strong as its components combined, if not stronger, freeing up a weapon slot. This greatly increases your DPS beyond what you could without collab weapons.

Unsurprisingly, picking the right weapons for your build (especially if you’re playing Endless Mode) is in large part a matter of picking the right collab material. This isn’t just because different characters work better with some collab weapons than others, though that is often the case. (Dragonfire isn’t a great choice for Calli, for instance, but Breathe-In-Type Asacoco mostly falls within The Rapper’s radius.)

One of your six weapon slots is always taken up by your starting weapon (which can’t be collab’d), and you need two free weapon slots to make a new collab (obviously). So at maximum, you can have your starting weapon, four collab weapons, and one weapon picked up after making the last collab. But if you don’t pick your collabs carefully, you’ll end up one collab short of that ideal, with three collabs and one ordinary weapon filling the slot. Unless that collab suits your character really badly and the ordinary weapon suits it really well, this is a serious downgrade—and I can’t think of any practical cases where the really good ordinary weapon wouldn’t have been made into a good collab weapon.

There are ten weapons, which can be combined into eight collab weapons, since most pairs don’t have collabs. (That would be a stupid amount of work. Stupid cool, but stupid.) You might initially there would be a whole lot of potential builds you could put together—maybe not the full 1,680 plus slot-filler that a naive number-crunching suggests, but a lot.

There are nine.

(Technically 36 if you count the slot-filler, but once you have an awakened starting weapon and four collab weapons, even the best ordinary weapon for your character isn’t going to change much. And the four or five best weapons for your character are probably components of the best collab loadout,)

The reason for this is pretty straightforward, and has to do with how the collabs are laid out. Let me show you a simple diagram:

As you can see, each weapon has at most two collab options, and four of the ten have only one. If you pick up one of the four “end-point” weapons, you either need to make its one collab or reduce your long-term combat efficiency. For an example, look at this four-collab build:

Pretty simple. But if you want the MiComet and Breathe-In Asacoco (this is a weird game)…

...you can no longer make a fourth collab. There are other ways to screw up your collab

As it happens, the four end-point weapons are build-important in some key ways!

The Cutting Board is unique how it covers the user’s “back,” and has character-specific buffs for a couple of characters whose starting weapons are very front-focused.

The Idol Song uniquely fires vertical projectiles. It’s an important weapon in any build with strong horizontal-only weapons (like Amelia’s gun or IRyS’s blast)…especially when fighting Fubuzilla, who has a really strong horizontal-only weapon.

The BL Book and Spider Cooking are by far the best short-ranged “defensive” weapons in the game. This obviously comes at the expense of range, but characters who need short-ranged defensive weapons don’t care about range.

This makes the restrictive collab options feel like a deliberate design choice. “You want the Idol Song? Well, either you can’t get the Light Beam, or the Idol Song is your last weapon. Take your pick.” But it’s a design choice that I don’t like, at least in the context of the current arsenal.

I feel like there’s really only one viable build for a lot of characters. To an extent, that’s inevitable; for instance, Sana is always going to want all the area-type weapons. But I feel like the current armory is more restrictive than it should be.

And some collab weapons get underused specifically because of this issue. I’m thinking specifically of the MiComet—if you make it, you need to also make the Flattening Board, Dragonfire, and Idol Concert, and can’t pick up Spider Cooking or BL Book until basically the end of the game.

There are two ways to fix this (by which I mean “make the design more like what I want it to be”). One is to just increase the number of weapons; 15 ordinary weapons and a dozen collabs between them would increase the possibility space enough that I wouldn’t feel like I had to pick up weapon X just because it filled the empty space in my build. But increasing the armory’s size by 50% would require a lot of coding, a lot of new assets, and a lot of Q&A.

I think that just adding one or two new collabs among existing weapons would loosen up the possibility space enough to remove this (subjective) problem. There would still be constraints on possible builds, tricky choices to make, but you wouldn’t be thinking “Oh I want the BL Book, guess I need to pick up the Psycho Axe too, ugh”.

Of course, not all pairs of weapons would broaden the possibilities equally. For instance, a Holo Bomb/Elite Lava collab would only add one new set of four possible collabs, while a BL Book/Idol Concert collab would add six. And while that example sounds random, I think there’s actually potential in it!

For those who aren’t familiar with Hololive and are reading this anyways (probably because they followed my Tumblr for something unrelated): Hololive is a group of VTubers, originally called “virtual idols”. And while some of them have the voices of angels, as time went on, fewer and fewer kept up an act of angelic purity. The contrast between the seiso and yabai sides of each “idol” is often a large part of the appeal.

The Idol Concert weapon is, obviously, the most idol-ish weapon in the game, and I don’t expect that to change. On the other hand, the BL Book is the most yabai-ish, especially given its association to Houshou Marine (probably the least idol-like VTuber in a group that includes a Lovecraftian high priestess, a long-eared war criminal, and a literal clown).

Some sort of yin-yang bomb, composed of both extreme seiso and extreme un-seiso, seems like a plausible collab weapon to me. Certainly moreso than other collabs between “end-point” weapons. (You could probably figure out something with Spider Cooking and Cutting Board, if you ignored their in-joke aspects and focused on the fact that cutting boards are used for preparing food, but…why would you want to ignore the in-jokes?)

Anyways…the wiki has a list of all nine currently-possible combinations of four collabs. Look it up, consider which ordinary weapons your character needs in the short term, and figure something out. This isn’t tagged as a guide, I just have no idea what kind of conclusion I should write.

#holocure #random thoughts #hololive #hololive meta #I probably wouldn't be as salty if I didn't keep forgetting that Idol Concert and Fan Beam didn't have a collab with each other

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