#Magnus who always wanted to go out in a blaze of glory

[thatgirlonstage]

Thinks about arms outstretched and has to lie facedown on the ground for nine hours again

[celosiaa]

Honestly I always feel like Tim is one of thoose truly tragic characters. He joined the institute to find and help his brother, he made friends there, he cared for them all. And what did he get out of it? His brother was dead the whole time, the person he loved died without him even knowing, his friends grew apart from him or suspicious of him to the point where they were more astranged than ever. He couldn't go away, he was trapped there forever, a [1|2]

pond in a game he never wanted for something akin to what killed his brother. He just wanted to help, but in the end he became lonely, cynical, without a person in the world who would miss him after his death, or so it seemed. This fun-loving, intellegent, extroverted person became lonely and bitter because he wanted to get closure[2|2]

You are 1000% right, anon. I think Tim absolutely meets the definition of a tragic hero, as defined by Aristotle: a character who makes a judgement call that leads to their own destruction. The really interesting bit of this to me is that there are two separate moments we can point to that make up Tim’s tragedy: his decision not to trust Jon, and his decision to trust Jon again in the end.

(this got really long so I put it under a cut)

All of season 3, we see this build up--everything that Tim becomes is so dreadfully tragic, and though the audience knows that his distrust and anger at Jon are somewhat misplaced, he does not have the context that the listeners have. We know that Jon was trying to do his best all along, though he is also, of course, a very flawed hero. Tim does not know that, and in his mind, has every justifiable reason under the sun to push away someone who had been one of his closest friends.

Then jump to the end of the season. We’ve seen Tim’s downward sliding all season long as a result of mistrust, but when it comes down the the Unknowing, Tim makes the decision to trust Jon in the end. To follow Jon’s plan. Were this story not a tragedy, this should make things better, and lead to a positive resolution of Tim’s character arc. But as we know, it’s not--and this terrible misjudgement on his part leads to the complete unneccessity of his death. And even more tragically, he believes he died a hero, when ultimately, he didn’t die for anything at all.

That doesn’t mean his story is meaningless, though. It’s very real and raw, obviously--but it also follows another element of classical tragedies: catharsis. Catharsis is defined as “purging or purifying the emotions,” especially pity and fear. Aristotle identified this type of catharsis as one of the goals of tragedy. Tim’s story follows this to a T: we see a lovable, brave hero, who is very flawed, who has many foreshadowings of a downfall, who dies as a result of a terrible misjudgement. This arouses both pity and fear in the listener: fear, because we are all afraid of our lives and deaths meaning nothing; and pity, because we mourn the loss of the character we once knew to be so very different than who he was in the end. Yet, he showed up as himself in his final moments--though he was not forgiving of Jon, though he was still filled with rage--it led to him dying a hero’s death in a blaze of glory, and allowed him to exact revenge on the people who took away everything he loved (including Jon).

That feeling you have right now? Of both poetic satisfaction and heartache? That’s catharsis.  That’s what the story of the Magnus Archives is about.

[darksidekelz]

Last 20

Credit to @writingwife-83

Thanks for tagging me, @hanuko​

Guidelines: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20,  just list them all.) Choose your favourite opening line, tag some friends!

I may have skipped a few of the more … content warn-y ones.

1. Living in a Lightless World (TFP) -  The scenario was a familiar one.  A hard, unyielding table beneath him, the sickening sound of Autobot voices drifting in the surrounding space, powerful restraints around his wrists, his chest – cables deactivated, as well as his audio transmitters.  Soundwave was helpless, again at the Autobots’ mercy.  But this time, he didn’t care.

2. I Know What You Did (G1) -  Praxus was a surprisingly good city for business.  Sure, it had always carried the image of pristine totalitarianism – the home of the Enforcers, of the most uptight mechs on the face of Cybertron.  And yes, everyone had laughed when Swindle had voiced his intentions to open shop there.  'No one will buy from you.’  'You’ll be arrested in a week.’  Well, the laugh was on them!

3. All My Decepticons (Transformers) -  Our show begins in a lovely little suburban neighborhood.  The sky is clear, and a slight breeze rustles the leaves in the trees.  We zoom in on a house, picturesque and welcoming, like something out of The Brady Bunch, only, instead of being scaled to humans, it is scaled to giant robots.  Why?  Because how else are the giant robot inhabitants going to fit inside?

4. Call Me Master (TFP) - It hurt to see him like this.  Soundwave had always come across as untouchable - like a benevolent deity who had, through some miracle of fate, chosen to grace Megatron with his undying loyalty and devotion.  

5. Hope for the Hopeless (TFA) -  A flash of metal, a distorted scream, the biting sting of claws in his plating.  Deadlock was fighting for his life, and nothing else mattered. 

6. Fear Itself (Red vs Blue) -  Felix had been expecting a little more fanfare when he’d stepped through the gate - a small army of people he’d wronged in his life, for starters.  That useless pirate had claimed to have been confronted by his own victims when he’d been shoved through earlier. Judging by the whistling abyss that greeted him, however, the gate had something different in store this time.

7. A Single Thread (G1) -  It had been a long and arduous road, but finally, Swindle’s work was starting to pay off.  He smiled at the message he held in his hands:

8. Sentinel Prime and the Quest for Booty (TFA) -  Sentinel Prime was kind of a big deal.  He led the Elite Guard, second in power only to the Magnus himself.  His presence inspired awe amongst the peons beneath him.  He was handsome, powerful, a master of strategy, and a beacon of charisma.  There was not a bot alive that came close to rivaling his glory.  And yet, he had one small problem.

9. Mercy for the Damned (MTMTE) - Primus, spare my spark. 

Pain came first – the pain of his body being systematically torn to shreds from the inside out, through a means and manner that defied the laws of nature.  

10. Dodgeball (Beast Wars) -  Megatron loved being the center of attention.  He loved watching the time tick down on the big clock 9, 8, 7, counting the seconds to their victory.  It was close enough to taste, intoxicating.  He could see Optimus, several yards ahead of him, wide open.  This was his time to shine, the moment that would go down in history.  There was no time to savor it.  It was do or die.

Megatron threw the ball.

11. Shall We Dance? (G1) -  It had been a year, now, since Cybertron last witnessed bloodshed.  After eons of fighting, anyone would be ready to call it quits, even Galvatron, it seemed.  In the aftermath of the hate plague, and the subsequent return of Optimus Prime, a peace treaty had been hastily drafted, and much to the surprise of everyone involved, it had been obeyed. 

12. Remembering Altihex (G1) -  There had been no battle for Altihex - no blaze of glory, no honorable sacrifices, no heroic speeches to go down in the history books - it was just gone, taken in the night as its citizens slept in their beds, blissfully unaware of their own impending demise.       

13. Reaching for the Sun (G1) - “It’s not enough.”  

With tense shoulders and narrowed optics, Onslaught sifted through the mass of information that Blast Off had handed him, divided between five different data pads, all confirming his every fear.  

14. Exceeds Expectations (IDW 1) - “Were you able to find it?” Perceptor glanced up from his data pad, cold blue eyes scrutinizing Prowl, trying to uncover his every uncouth motivation and secret.  As smart as Perceptor was, he was hopelessly outmatched in this respect.

15. Irresponsible Infatuation (IDW 1) -  Prowl was a sensible mech, sometimes the only sensible mech, a fact which he was all too aware of.  He could scheme with the best of them, plan for every contingency, and he wasn’t afraid to let his spark interfere with what needed to be done for victory.  

16. Living in a Box (G1) -  Okay.  This ain’t so bad.  I mean, I’m absent one body – I can’t see or hear, feel or taste or touch or smell.  It’s like my worst nightmare come to life, and y’know?  Can’t say what I was ever scared for.  

17. I’ll Follow You Forever (TFP) -  Step left, stoop low, lean away, cross-counter, go for the throat.  Soundwave’s opponent wasn’t a big mech, but he was broad, heavy, and well-armored – though the last wasn’t uncommon for a gladiator.  The ring wasn’t kind to fragile mechs – even Soundwave had piled on the armor as soon as he could afford it.  But even so, the extra protection didn’t change the fact that his light build was ill-suited for his chosen profession.  

18. Sacrifice (Armada) - The job was a means to an end. That was what Sideways told himself day after day.  When he woke up in the morning, dreading the upcoming drudgery, working his poor frame to the core, ungrateful customers – the creepers, the swindlers, the complainers.  And likewise, before the fell into a deep recharge at night, broken both body and soul.  

19. Maybe Tomorrow Will Be Better (MTMTE) - Some days were worse than others.

Drift wasn’t a happy mech; he wasn’t exactly unique in that regard.  Most mechs had baggage – four million years of war would do that.  Drift knew this.  But that did exactly nothing to make him feel better.

20. Guilty Conscience (IDW 1)-  Wing had always had a little rebellious streak.  It had gotten him into trouble more times than he could count.  And yet, though it condemned him on a weekly basis, it was also his second most valuable trait, after his compassion.  

I sure did forget I’d written some of these. Bummed I didn’t make it far enough back to get any of my big Shockblurr stuff up here, ‘cuz I still really like those ones. Also, I like the lone non-TF fic sitting in there (we ignore the OW one).

Feel free to do this if you want. I am too anxious a bean to tag.

[cuz-reasons]

This is every time I could find that any of the boys said they died. Sorry if the audio isn’t the greatest, I had to compress it.

Transcript under the cut because it is very long

[Audio Description: A supercut of every time the Tres Horny Boys and the McElroys say they die, whether in a goof or for real, in The Adventure Zone

Griffin: Maybe the three of you will die, I don’t know

Travis: It kills you!

Griffin: It kills you, you die

Taako: I’m dying. [Laughter, all but Justin]

Taako: I’m literally dead.

Griffin: She kills you instantly. No.

Magnus: He’s going to kill us!

Director: He’s going to murder the three of you. [chuckling]

Director: Thank you for your service, goodbye.

Travis: Magnus’ neck breaks and he dies.

Griffin: Oh, a minus one. Then you die. [laughter] God, Travis, if only you— in trying to discern his fanciness, your nose just starts bleeding, and you fall over and—

Clint: You’re fancied to death.

Griffin: The train de-rails, and everyone on board dies. Three ghosts appear and strangle all three of you to death.

Travis: [providing sound effects, makes a “ka-chunk” noise and breathy exhale]

Griffin: [laughing] …And it depressurizes and you die, I guess?

Justin: I die. I die in fiction.

Griffin: [exhausted inhale] And, I’m dead.

Clint: Uhm… Uh, let’s see. You said 21? I’m, uh, 2 points dead.

Justin: Oh, I’m negative 5, baby. I’m dead as disco.

Griffin: Uh, the three of you walk into, uh, this room singing, uh, showtunes, uh, and everyone inside this building looks at you and kills you. No.

Justin:  If you don’t use a character voice, you lose a hit point.

Travis: [laughs]

Clint: Okay.

Travis: You die.

Griffin: You run up, tear the box open and it explodes, you die.

Griffin: Okay. Yeah, this needle, first of all, passes through your suit-

Travis: And you die!

Griffin: It digests it and shits it out. And the shitty axe comes out and kills you.

Travis: Merle's dead. He bled out.

Clint: I'm dead, right?

Griffin: And— he died between episodes.

Griffin: And you are launched out of the cannon, and, yeah, it’s been a while since you’ve done this.

Travis: And he forgot to open the door.

Griffin: And you die and that’s the end of The Adventure Zone

Griffin: The clock tower snaps at its midsection as it chimes its twelfth chime, and it falls over into that large two-story manor at the end of the street with a loud crash. And the ground, as quickly as it expanded, it just falls out beneath your feet. And you’re falling. And you’re burning. And you’re being crushed by the shattered earth as it compresses down into the ground. And you hear an anguished scream come from something massive and furious, and all three of you have died.

Justin: I pull out a gun and shoot the two of them and shoot myself.

[Riotous laughter]

Clint: [Sing-song] Reboot!

Justin: Starting again.

Griffin: and then just like that, the ground compresses. And it pulls you down in with it, killing you, Magnus, and killing you, Taako, pretty quickly. Merle, you are also subject to this catastrophe, although right before it happens, those rocks— before Cassidy can do whatever she was doing to them, they get blasted out by a wave of force, like buckshot from a shotgun as the ground pulls you under. You are burned. And you are crushed. And you are dead.

Griffin: You pull on the lever to this locker and all three of you hear a horrible sound that lasts, like, a split second. And the sound is like, [explosion noise] and it was actually the sound of this room more or less exploding.

Griffin: And all three of you have died.

Travis: I’m gonna open E next.

Griffin: Boom! The room explodes.

Justin:  Can we just stroll on through?

Griffin: Yeah, sure.

Justin: Okay.

Griffin: It explodes and you die. No, I’m just kidding. I’m just kidding.

Clint: I take the meat and the ice.

Justin: Thank god.

Travis: It explodes!

Griffin: Because all three of you are almost instantly devoured by something as soon as you leave the light.

Griffin: I mean canonically, Magnus did say it, so you do have a trip to heaven

Travis: I cut the black wire.

Griffin: [Singing] To heaven we’re going on a trip together

Travis: I use Railsplitter to cut all five wires at once. [Clint laughs]

Griffin: [Giggling] You’re in heaven.

Griffin: All of you hold hands as both the flame and the purple worm burst through the bubble. The forcefield ultimately giving up the ghost and the room is flooded with fire and you are destroyed by a blast of nearly supersonic force and the last thing you hear is a scream of unbridled fury and you do not live long enough to hear the twelfth chime of the clock above you.

Griffin: I think the cave just collapses on all of you and Luca, and you get crushed by rocks.

Istus: You're going to be amazing.

Griffin: And then the building comes down.

Griffin: It reaches out and taps you on the forehead, and as soon as it does, your vision kind of goes dark.

Travis: And Magnus is dead.

Griffin: And Magnus dies and that's it. Thanks for listening, everybody! And now it's on to the next— no.

Griffin: [disgusted sounds] Oh come on, I’m in hell!

Justin: I'm gonna die, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead.

Griffin: I'm dead and in hell now.

Griffin: But you also see a tear in the fabric of space, and it looks familiar. Because you saw something similar to that during your time in Lucas’ lab. It is a rift open to the astral plane where the souls of the deceased go after their death in the material plane. And you are drifting into it, Magnus. Because you’re dying.

Clint: I’m dead. I’ve just been killed. I’m as dead as dead can be.

Justin: I just killed somebody while I’m dead, what’s up!

Justin: You did die.

Clint: Yeah can we point out— 

Justin: I mean, I don’t wanna get technical about it, but you... you are dead.

Clint: Yeah, your body got destroyed, so you’re dead!

Justin: You’re dead!

Clint: I’m sorry,

Taako: But I’m gonna need Magnus’s blood. He died, and we would just really like something to remember him by.

Griffin: You’re killed by a Yeti.

Travis: Yeah, I’m gonna die.

Griffin: They just—they just tear you apart. They just fucking destroy you.

Griffin: But, eventually like, you're left behind and you only, sort of, outlast the Hunger for so long before you are killed.

Travis: Oh, I’ll die then. That's fine.

Griffin: And so, I guess from the point of view of the rest of your party, who like, take some time, like this has happened a few times now, and it’s tough every time, like you're dead.

Griffin: She literally finds another gun and, like, does it—

Lup: Count the shells! gratatatatata…

Taako: Oh! I’m dying.

Griffin: Based on the rules of the game, Dad… you die. [Travis starts laughing] You tried to put some googly-eyes on a shell and the shell broke and it cut— It cut you to ribbons. And you died.

Griffin: And he extends his hand, palm first, and you see this sort of black fire surround his hand and you feel this incredible pain as black fire spreads throughout your body from your insides out, just killing you in a second.

Griffin: And he kills you. [This is repeated three more times]

Griffin: You take a step. And freeze. And I don’t just mean like, you stop moving? You feel something seize up within you as the dust that you breathed in as you’ve been in this chamber instantly calcifies and spreads throughout your body in the blink of an eye. And you are gone. And the rest of you look over and you just see a Magnus Burnsides statue made of this same white limestone as the walls surrounding you. Just frozen in place.

Travis: Well, see you all next cycle! [hums the Mario Bro’s game over tune]  [laughter]

Griffin: And all of you feel it now. Just for a moment something… something hard just emerges from within you and you are instantly frozen, your shapes frozen atop the dais just lifeless, carved in stone.

Justin: Well, I… put my hand in it, I guess.

Griffin: You’re killed instant— no.

Justin: Then that’s going to do it for the Adventure Zone, we hope you’ve enjoyed this rich tapestry we’ve woven. Sorry I- boned it there at the end.

Griffin: Um, I don’t really have the same offer for Magnus that I did for Taako and Merle, I just have a question, which is, how does Magnus die? [long pause]

Travis: [emotional] You know… I kinda envisioned him from the beginning as like, a guy who was looking for a cause worth dying for, and I’ve always kinda envisioned this like, big Blaze Of Glory moment, and then, somewhere along the lines, he became… I realized that he had found something worth living for, and the relationship between Taako and Merle and all of his friends and stuff and what he was doing, started to trump that, became more important. I wanted him to live, I wanted him to survive. And so, if you had have asked me three years ago when we started, I would’ve said he died epically in battle.

Griffin: He got eaten by a dragon that he tried to fight by himself. [crosstalk]

Travis: [crosstalk] Yeah, something like that. But now, I actually think he dies peacefully of old age. Um. [voice trembling] Calmly, and holding in his hand his wife’s wedding ring. That’s how Magnus dies.

Griffin: And other folks are there too, this is just, like- Taako and Merle are there too, that’s just how dwarf and elf age work, you got old before they did, and they’re there too, and they’re with you, and Lucretia is there with you, and she is much, much older, I think she is sitting in a chair at your side. Carey and Killian are there, and Carey is holding your hand in hers and she’s smiling, and she’s just saying,

Carey: It’s okay, bud. It’s okay.

Griffin: And Davenport is there, and he’s at the foot of your bed, just smiling warmly, and he places a hand gently on your leg. And Angus is there, and he’s all grown up! And, he is… He’s so upset, but he’s trying to force a smile for you, Magnus. Barry and Lup are both there, and they look so happy for you, they are this force of reassurance, all of your friends that you have known for over a century, who’ve been with you, and have loved you for so long are all with you. They’re all ready to say goodbye. You are surrounded by friends as things get hazier and hazier in a way you’re kind of familiar with. And then, in a flash, the world is clear, and there’s Kravitz. And he looks like Kravitz, he’s not in his reaper form, but nobody else seems to see him in this moment, and he reaches out his hand and takes yours, and he helps you to your feet, and he says,

Kravitz: My friend, I think this one’s gonna take.

Magnus: Well, let’s hope so for your sake, I don’t want you getting in trouble with the boss. /end of audio description]

[bytheangell]

Life in the Shadow of Death

(Read on AO3)  (part of the 3B Countdown Calendar of fics!) 

Jonathan Christopher should have known that Death, along with the destruction and loss it brought, would follow him no matter where he went, no matter what he did.

He wasn’t even properly alive when Death first appeared to him, taking the life of the woman carrying him in her womb. No one could have predicted that Celine’s death would be the first of many Jonathan would come to blame on himself.

It followed him as Jonathan Wayland, when his desire to care for something, to love it and be loved in return, brought about the death of his beloved falcon, and it didn’t stop straight through the death of the man he believed to be his father as the result of what he thought was a Circle uprising. Real or not, the loss he perceived and the weight he took on seeking vengeance and retaliation would shape the most formative years of his life.

It followed him as Jonathan Lightwood, but this time it was channeled. This time it had purpose. His life was surrounded by death because he brought it   intentionally , honing his skills, fighting his way through demon after demon… but it didn’t stop there. He wouldn’t allow it to, because that wasn’t enough. For every rogue downworlder the Praetor couldn’t handle efficiently, Jace was there - vampire after vampire, werewolf after werewolf, if there was a rogue creature to hunt he was on it. He was good at it. After so many years of resenting the death his very existence drew towards him whether he wanted it or not, he found the easiest way to control it was to always want it. To welcome it. To seek it out before it could find him first.

It didn’t stop when he was Jonathan Morgenstern. How could it, when of all the Jaces he’d been so far, this was the one that made the most sense. The one that explained every dark thought that pushed through his best defenses, every voice that told him he was born to be a killer. Would Maryse and Robert have praised his skills had they known where they came from? The answer was no, because the moment he stepped through that portal they realized the true threat that was Jonathan Morgenstern - because there was now a chance that destructive force was no longer on their side, but turning against them.

It’s easy to love a killer when you’re the one they’re killing for.

When he reached for the soul sword it was with every intention of meeting Death once and for all, to sacrifice himself for the sake of a world that deserved better than the carnage that followed him at every turn. What he received in instead was the loss of the very lives he intended to save. He hadn’t known, he couldn’t have known… but that hardly mattered. Valentine’s victory that day was brought about by Jace’s selfish desire to go out in a blaze of glory, by his need to prove himself once and for all. All he proved was that he couldn’t escape the fate that was always meant for him.

Death followed him, right up until the moment he drew what should have been his last breath. And when it could no longer call upon him to do its bidding it moved on to Clarissa, driving a blade through Valentine’s chest.

And then it brought him back, because it was not done with him yet.

Jonathan Herondale wanted it to stop more than ever before. He’d never truly wanted it in the first place. He made the best of it. At times he embraced it, accepting it because fighting it 24/7 was simply too exhausting for any one person to endure. But now he had someone who refused to give up on him… someone he couldn’t write off as a familial obligation, because of course he knew Izzy and Alec cared. They loved him more than he could possibly deserve, but he could convince himself it was because they had to. They were family after all, even if not by blood. But Clary?

Clary could leave him at any moment. And she should have, time and time again. Instead she held him close and supported every decision he made, even if she didn’t fully agree with it or even understand it. She loved him despite him doing everything wrong he possibly could along the way. She killed her father for him, and though if any man deserved it it was Valentine, that was still not a weight he would’ve wished upon her, or anyone else. He wanted to be different, to be better, for her. For them .

But Death had other plans, so much worse than anything that came before.

He knew, on some level, that he wasn’t entirely responsible for the lives lost at his hand while he was possessed. It was the demon, it was Lilith’s influence, it was nothing he ever would’ve done on his own. Imogen… his own grandmother, the last living flesh and blood he had… her blood was on his hands, but it wasn’t his fault . He knew that, and so did the people around him. But he couldn't erase the guilt because he and Death knew one another intimately by now; if he was a stronger person he would make himself one with death and remain the way he was meant to at Lake Lyn. He thought Alec might be strong enough, and for a moment he almost was. But the love that Alec and Izzy and everyone else foolish enough to care for him convinced them he was worth saving, no matter how much he pleaded otherwise. Their love for him won out. It always did.

And it was always wrong.

They saved him, and in return he brought more death. Clary was gone, the love of his life torn away not just from him but from all the lives she touched. And Magnus… Magnus’ death may not have been an immediate result, but it’s happening, slowly but surely. It’s evident with the first gray hair that stained his black mohawk, a streak that came through right at the front. It’s evident in the first time Magnus caught a cold that turned into the flu, and Alec took  a week off from the Institute to stay home and take care of him. Magnus was dying, and that death will be Jace’s fault, just like every other death in his life since the day he was born.

It was easier when he stopped fighting it. It was simpler when he pretended he wanted it there, that he didn’t mind it’s presence. Things were less complicated when he could count the number of people who cared about him on four fingers, and even two of those were suspect. He brought enough death upon himself, he didn’t want anyone else in the line of fire for his sake.

He doesn’t think he’ll have to worry about that for much longer. It may be too late for all that’s come to pass, but now?

How anyone could continue to love him after this, he doesn’t know. Everything Alec and Magnus sacrificed, they did it for him, and they must regret it now that they’re living out the consequences. Isabelle and Simon feel the loss of Clary so deeply he can tell that they relive the pain of her death every time they look at him - every time they remember it’s his fault she was ever in that position. Maryse isn’t around the Institute often and Robert is in Idris, something he’s infinitely grateful for because he doesn’t think he can handle their looks of disappointment on top of everything else.

He wishes he was stronger… that he could end the suffering he caused around him once and for all. But he isn’t. He can’t, because despite the fact that he cannot begin to fathom how, or why, the fact remains: there are people who still care. People who wouldn’t understand that the pain he’d be sparing in the long run would more than make up for any temporary anguish. So he stays, for them, even knowing that no matter how far he runs and many times his name may change, Death will always find him again.

He’ll try his best to right the wrongs committed by his hand and by his influence, and he’ll will Death to stay away, because hasn’t he given it enough? What more could it possibly want from him?

As much dread as the question brings him, he fears the inevitable answer will be worse.

[mechagalaxy]

John T. Mainer: Unpopular Opinion Time

Unpopular Opinion Time

Word from your Bunny Samurai, live on the edge or surrender your blade.

I have been playing this game a long time. Before Faction War 1 there was a lot more dispersal of talent. The first time we all came together across clan lines, those who were of similar mind and power got to know each other, got used to working with each other, and very shortly in the period after Faction War 1 we saw the drifting of the elite players into elite formations.

Nothing really new, save in scope. The AFF, RND, Cyberstorm and the Brotherhood had all but sewn up their own divisions from time in memorial, but there had always been a mix on each team, a few champions in each clan who could go toe to toe with the elite clans and win some for the honour of the flag.

That changed. There were the haves and have nots. There were enough spreadsheet readers, tea leaf readers and ice cold entrail readers to judge to a fare thee well how to rig your clan to fall at the top end of the level bracket for your chosen division. A big group with elite players could decide to avoid a fair fight altogether and live on a solid died of guaranteed gold in every Clan War. Oh sure, once in a while someone would screw the whole thing by opting out for a round and some people would get a surprise and end bottom of the division they were avoiding, not top of the division they slept through winning every war, but by in large things have been so easy to predict that anyone with half a brain can call the gold and silver in the top half of the divisions on the day the divisions are announced.

It is good profit, we are mercenaries, its what we are here for right?

Not so much. It’s a game. I mean, heresy coming, just to warn you. The prizes are not real. The spenders, the free players, all know the value of a niode, but its not real, none of it. The niode isn’t a currency, its like a drink token.

When we started, that drink token was for premium whiskey. Now its about as strong as a Shirley Temple or at most a Mimosa or dealcoholized beer. What began as hunting bears with spears had turned into hunting seals with clubs. Not a glorious battle to memorialize in story and song, but a brutal harvest, a chore that largely amused only those who get off on pounding the helpless, or those who never met a lost cause they wouldn’t take up.

John James proposed a Snake Draft war, like his Myth and Legends ran for in house tourneys. Random draws producing teams of even strength to go at it head to head, and settle the war upon the field, not upon the spreadsheet. Some loved the idea, some who preferred to stack their decks so cold you had to crack the ice with white phosphorus just to deal did not.

Clans form along a lot of lines, one of which is equal commitment. That for some includes financial, as the spenders group together so they can get more bang for the buck, and so they can go into battle as plate mail clad Paladins wielding blazing magic two handed swords to cut down half naked kobolds armed with softwood clubs and bone headed spears. Great fun for the Paladin, not so much for the kobold.

Hard working clans have each of their specialist formations tuned. Some commit to a single specialty, and keep it tough enough to give even the mightiest spender pause. They work hard to contribute to their clans success investing time energy and effort as opposed to huge dollars, but its an investment equally as dear to them.

The objection of both groups is, they don’t want to be paired with a clan full of inactive players who have Viper Lasers on their Fext, a Magnus running Crayon cockpit over Grizzly engines, who haven’t figured out if you are defending as a Red Ant you can switch lineups to attack, and spend all war splashing their Red Ants against Corsairs.

The spectre is raised about sabotage, especially when two teams randomly get the same player’s main and his known alt. Literally, he is playing both sides and can throw the match if he or she wants to pout and throw a temper tantrum. These are all valid concerns, and should be addressed.

And yet….

We took up this game to compete. To test ourselves. We step into King of the Mountain, join Clan Wars because we want to FIGHT. Yes we want to win, but we want to win by crossing blades with another champion and see them fall before you. We want the trophy, the shiny niode prizes, but we don’t want them Fedexed to us while we nap, we want to rip them off the fallen mecha of our foe, with the arm that still works, through a canopy grazed with damage and fire alarms sounding in the background. We want to win, but we want to have to FIGHT for it.

Live on the edge or surrender your blade. Do you want to load for bear and face the bear, or load for bear and go club some baby seals instead?

Just for one war, surrender yourself to fate. Draw steel with whomever fate places beside you and do battle, on even terms against a foe you don’t get to choose for once. For one war, not to be Warlock or Bunny, but Junkyard Dog, or Murder Penguin; a clan of no history but what you write this day, no future but what you carve tomorrow.

Smurfs and Bunnies, Myth and Legends, we have talked about this in Faction Chat every Faction War since 1, and in our Clan chats afterwards. We don’t look at this as a betrayal of our clan loyalty, but a renewal of the game.

Not for a moment giving up all we built in terms of clans and alliances for all time, but for one war, for one brief shining instant, to face this game like we did at level one, like we do in the new universes before anyone draws a credit card or power levels to infinity and beyond; an unknown battle. A battle where each foe may be stronger, weaker, equal, but you can’t tell until the trigger is pulled and lasers flash beneath the con trails of missile salvos.

Those niodes, those little drink tokens we all fight for started to taste less like tang and more like tequila again. We might get great team mates, we might get a bunch of pouty mcwhiner babies. Might face anything up to and including my wife (sorry dear, but this is for gold).

This will give those people who never got to be in the old boys member only clubs and clans a taste of the big leagues, will give the campers who have been lurking in divisions where they are twice to three times the average and seal hunting not fighting, a taste of what a battle of equals was like. This will give those who have been sucking plastic so long they got fined for too many plastic medals in their plastic recycling bin on garbage day the chance to be in the big medal fight.

This will breathe life into the game, colour back into the canvass we all paint with our victories, if you have the balls, ovaries, or actuators to embrace it. Dare the unknown. Take up the fight, ride the winds of fate and battle beside whomever lands beside you, for honour, for glory, and for the sheer fun of the game.

Dare. We are keyboard samurai, console warriors. Live on the edge or surrender your blade.

Special thanks to Jam Albores and Huijari Peli, Christine Mainer, and John James for the times then and now we have all ranted and raved about this.

John T Mainer 28840

[flashwitch]

After the Adventure

Magnus is only the first to go. The first of the seven who saved the world. Lucretia follows soon after, her skin tight on her bones. Age has shrunk her, but all of her accomplishments with the Bureau of Benevolence remain large in the minds of those she helped. She is dearly missed and the world gets a little harsher, a little darker in the wake of her loss. It is expected, she's human after all and they don't live long, but it still hurts.

Then Davenport’s letters stop abruptly.. After a month of silence, a young man comes to the door of Taako’s kitchen, a roll of parchment tight in his hand.

It reads:

My friends,

I am sorry to be leaving you. I wish I could see you all once more, but we had a hundred years together and more. And I don’t think I’m going to make it home. I am old, friends and hurt.

There were marauders attacking a fishing boat. I forgot I wasn’t a young man anymore, and I went in to help.

Healing hasn’t worked. I just don’t have the energy for it, and my injuries are pretty bad.

I think I’m dying.

Soon I will see all our old friends again. Dome a favour? Don’t cry for me. I’m not sad. I’ve seen so much. I’ve seen the world. I’ve seen the worlds.  And I will see you all again, one day.

Joyfully yours,

Davenport.

The young man stutters through an explanation and rubs at his eyes as he talks and Taako listens and asks questions and cracks a couple of jokes. He mourns in private. Well, he let’s Kravitz see he’s upset, but no one else.

Merle isn’t alone when he dies. His children, and the children he’s nurtured and taught, are around him. Taako and Lup are there too, and Barry comes to hold Lup’s’ hand and collect Merle’s soul

He knew his time was coming. His knee ached when it rained now, and his soulwood arm had shed it’s leaves. He’d done his work. His children were grown. He wasn’t ready exactly, but he wasn’t fighting it either.

Then one morning, as he’s sitting looking out at the sea, watching a young man ride a board across the waves, trying to remember why it seemed so familiar (his memory, always a little faulty, has truly begun to fail over the last months), a man comes and sits beside him. He has brown skin, the colour of autumn leaves, and tightly curled hair that’s woven with vines. He smells like the grass after a rainfall.

“Hello Merle.”

“Oh, hello. Do, do I know you?” He looks the man over, noting his strange, goat-like legs, and his kind eyes.

“I know you.” He sidesteps the question, not wanting to make the old man feel sad or confused. “You will always be my Merle.”

They sit together, Merle’s family around them, watching the sea and the children playing on the sand, and they don’t feel the need to talk.

Eventually, the sun sets, and Barry leads Merle home.

Finally, Taako and Lup are the only ones left. They are old. And that is strange, neither one of them expected to live this long. They don’t look it though, glamour spells or just their constant energy making them seem years younger than they actually are.

They have seen the world change and grow and  they have raised generations of wizards and every single person knows their names. They are loved. They are not alone.

Taako goes first. He tells Lup that it’s right this way. He couldn’t be alone, he couldn’t be without her, not again. He goes out in a heroic blaze of glory, defending his family from a group of spider orcs who shoot flaming poison from their fingertips. That is the story Lup tells anyway. In truth, it’s his heart that does him in. It was always large, and he has not looked after it in his elder years, eating too much of his own good food, and never getting enough exercise. Kravitz takes his hand and leads him on as the pain in his chest fades.

And that leaves Lup. She isn’t done. There is so much more she wants to do, wants to see. She will never have done enough, seen enough. But she never wanted to be alone. Barry is still here, for all that he has been on the other side for decades, working with Kravitz shepherding souls back to where they belong. She works with them, on this side of the curtain, for years, until Barry insists she retires. She knows he’s right when her spells start going strange, sometimes failing, sometimes just having bizarre unintended effects. She’s always been able to rely on her magic before, but age is stealing that from her too.

She is walking in the woods. Just taking some time to herself. She is the last one left and that means that she gets seven times the attention now. She misses being an adventurer. She misses being just Lup.

She takes a fall. Hits her head.

Then Barry is there. He wants to heal her, starts to say the spell, but…

“Babe. I think it’s time.” Her hands shake sometimes now, and she has trouble matching names to things. She is surrounded by strangers who think they know her and she is tired of being alone. “Fuck this place. I’m donezo.”

He sits with her, talking to her, taking her pain, as her life bleeds away on the forest floor.

Barry takes her hand and helps her up, and she winces, expecting her hip to bother her, but there is no pain, not anymore. She holds up her hands and sees the skin is smooth and young. She is herself again.

“Lup, I’m sorry,” Barry starts to say, and what, like he’s expecting her to be mad? She asked him to let her go, to let her pass over and here she is. She grabs him and kisses him, as passionately as she ever did.

“Shut the fuck up, babes.”

She’ll go to work with him and Kravitz again soon enough, but first Barry leads her to an island.

In the centre of it, there is a beautiful hand built cottage. It is old and weathered, but still strong and obviously lovingly kept up. There is a house boat pulled up against the shore, painted beautifully with intricate patterns (she recognises Lucretia’s handy work). It is pulled up outside a small dome shaped dwelling, also painted in the same style. Nearby, on the beach, is a brightly coloured beach house, with a hand painted sign. It reads ‘Merle-garitaville’.

On the other side of the cottage are two houses, both very similar. They are both modern looking things, with lots of glass and all sorts of cool gadgets (she spots a small ride on train following tracks around the two houses, a pole to slide down from a second floor balcony, a slide from the side of the house down into the sea that surrounds them). Between the two identical houses is a treehouse sitting in an apple tree: it is labelled ‘Clubhouse: Twins only’.

“Ours is the one on the left,” Barry says, pointing to one of the identical houses. “Taako designed them both, with help from Magnus and Julia of course. Do you like it? If not, that’s OK, you can redo it however you like.”

“Taako designed it? I’m surprised it’s still standing.” She laughs. Her brother had never been the best at building things. Then she takes in what Barry said. “What is this place?”

“It’s… it’s a waystation. The Raven Queen wanted us to have somewhere to go. A place to be. All of us work for her in one way or another, although I think eventually we’ll have to move on to what comes next.”

“When we’re ready for a new adventure,” Lup says. Her chest feels warm and tight and she is almost afraid to step forward, in case the island disappears, in case the people she wants to see are not there. But Lup has never let fear stop her from doing anything. She takes a step forward. “Hey!” she yells, loud as she can, “hey! Losers! Where’s my welcome party?!”

Notes:

I had so many emotions after listening to the finale.

The houseboat belongs to Davenport, the dome is Lucretia's. I think the rest speak for themselves. Also on my AO3

[gatonip]

An Open Thank You Letter To The McElroys

Spoiler warning for the finale!

To Clint, Justin, Travis, and Griffin:

I’m not in the minority when I say that TAZ means a lot more than words could express, but I still feel the need to try. Even if I’m a random twitter handle in a sea of fans across the internet expressing their love and appreciation, I still want to be another voice doing that, because you dudes deserve it.

Maybe you guys won’t ever read all this, because I’m physically incapable of writing anything shorter than a novel. Also I kinda used up my one lucky moment of interaction with you guys already (I’m the person from TTAZZ 2 who asked about Magnus’s backstory!).

I was a little late to the party - I didn’t catch up until about halfway into The Suffering Game - but binging TAZ while doing jigsaw puzzles and other mundane things was something I instantly attached to, and something to look forward to every day. By the time I had caught up I had to retire the jigsaw puzzles; there was so much going on, so many amazing visuals to keep track of, that I physically couldn’t do anything else but sit with my eyes closed as I listened, and that too was a bimonthly activity I absolutely adored.

But what really threw me off at the end of the day was how a silly fantasy game between 3 brothers and their dad morphed into something so complex, and powerful, and beautiful. 

The life that Clint, Justin, and Travis all breathe into Merle, Taako, and Magnus is astounding, from the little quips that always feel just right to the major multi-arc character development each of them went through. The three of you have put so much love into them, and they’ve become so human as a result (even if only 1 of them is actually human). I do admit to openly sobbing at Magnus’s death and his reunion with Julia. Just as 3 years ago he probably would have gone out in a blaze of glory at a young age, I would have found that a fitting end for his character at the time. But his finding a reason to live and continue on because of his friends, his family, that’s such an amazing and lifelike change for him to go through. And knowing that when he eventually does die he’ll be doing it with no regrets, surrounded by the people he loved and was loved by, and have peace and the love of his life on the other side, it just hit me so hard. I’m still teary thinking about it. It’s such a powerful message for those of us who can’t always find a reason right away to get out of bed. We don’t need an otherworldly adventure to realize we have lives worth living. Sometimes all you need is to know you have friends who care.

(Side note thank you and fuck you Justin for reminding me of ‘Your Heart Will Lead You Home’ by Kenny Loggins. I forgot about that song, but also applying it to TAZ set off another crying fit. So thanks and how dare you)

And of course, as much as you’re grateful for all of us, I’m so grateful for you, Griffin. This story you weaved is such an inspiration to me as an artist and storyteller. It’s the intricate arcs (both macro and micro) and so carefully planned foreshadowing and payoff that shows just how much you cared about this story, and because of that care, the story is as wonderful as it is. Just as the other boys put so much love and life into their characters, all of your NPCs are so multidimensional and memorable. I cried at Johann’s death, and then again because you didn’t let him be forgotten like he feared he would be. I have never wanted anything so badly as I have Angus McDonald’s happiness (somebody adopted that boy, right? My good good magic boy has like 10 adoptive parents?). And Lup is a gift to the world that we don’t deserve and has had me literally jump out of my seat and dance around every time she did something amazing (i.e. everything she does).

Specifically in the case of Lup, and Hurley and Sloane, and Carey and Killian, and Taako and Kravitz, and Roswell, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. LGBTA+ media is hard to come by; LGBTA+ media that’s happy is nearly nonexistent. I know it’s not a valiant thing to do necessarily, but I still feel an incredible amount of gratitude towards you for giving us a little slice of happiness here. You listened when we told you about Bury Your Gays and you more than made up for it; you didn’t even have ill intentions at the time, but you still came to us with more lesbians, and gay men, and a nonbinary character, and a transwoman, and brought us back the lesbians we lost at the start. The epilogue is a wedding between two women who are incredibly strong and brave and loving of their friends and each other, and they made it through the apocalypse to have a happy ending. The very concept is frankly unheard of in media. And Taako and Kravitz’s reunion, and Lup never once being misgendered, they’re things that maybe you didn’t have a second’s hesitation in doing, but have made such an impact on us, on me. The world isn’t very accepting of us, and we force ourselves to march forward anyway. But we need a reminder once in a while that it’s okay that we are who we are. And now we’re always gonna have the Balance arc to come back to for one of those reminders.

To all four of you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much for this story, for these moments of joy you brought to both specifically me and everyone who listens to TAZ. I know the Balance arc is only the beginning, and I know whatever road you guys take us down next, it’s going to be a great one. But I’ll always be forever grateful for the adventures of Tres Horny Boys and co., and their loving DM.

[hermanwatts]

Sensor Sweep: Year’s Best Horror, Blood Sundown, Al Williamson, Northworld

RPG (Modiphius Entertainment): Before Conan, there was Kull! DANGER BREEDS CAUTION, AND ONLY A WARY MAN LIVES LONG IN THAT WILD COUNTRY WHERE THE HOT VENDHYAN PLAINS MEET THE CRAGS OF THE HIMELIANS AN HOUR’S RIDE WESTWARD OR NORTHWARD AND ONE CROSSED THE BORDER AND WAS AMONG THE HILLS WHERE MEN LIVED BY THE LAW OF THE KNIFE. Here, for the first time in roleplaying gaming, Kull and his world are described in all their savage, dreamlike glory.

Writing (Larry Correia): Of course the article is trash. It comes from Buzzfeed. They get everything wrong. But worse, some of the quotes in there from certain writers are agenda driven garbage, which give aspiring writers a completely ass backwards view of how publishing works. I want to see writers be successful. I’m rooting for you guys. This crap right here? It is defeatist garbage, and if you buy into this pity party, you are going to artificially limit your career.

Fantasy (DMR Books): Lin Carter (1930-1988) blazed a trail in fantasy literary criticism, and for that we owe him a debt. Today on what would have been his 90th birthday I celebrate his pioneering efforts as a historian and guide, thank him for treating fantastic material with respect and enthusiasm—and also offer some critique I think he might have welcomed.

Science Fiction (Black Gate): First, it’s Heinlein’s first novel in that it’s the first one he wrote, way back in 1938 and 1939, when he hadn’t yet broken into print. But it didn’t sell, was never published at the time, and went unknown for decades. In fact the manuscript was thought lost; Heinlein and his wife had destroyed copies in their possession in the approach to Heinlein’s death. Yet another copy of the ms. was found years later, after Heinlein’s death in 1988, and, as Robert James explains in an afterword here, was published in 2004, with an introduction by Spider Robinson. (Spider Robinson would later publish Variable Star, based on a Heinlein outline, in 2006.

Edgar Rice Burroughs (Dark Worlds Quarterly): Edgar Rice Burroughs was a professional in the best sense of the word. This meant he worked hard at producing the best work he could. It also meant he knew you didn’t stop a successful franchise but always left a back door for more stories in the future. With Tarzan, Pellucidar and John Carter he used pretty much the same method (which I think was largely instinctual and certainly not planned).

REH and HPL (Westhunt): Just as Robert E. Howard’s take on prehistory was closer to the truth than the one promulgated by archaeologists  in the past few decades,  H.P. Lovecraft’s views on insanity were more realistic than the common ones in American popular culture – where people are thought to be driven insane by trauma, where your mum and dad fuck you up by their actions, rather than their genes.

Comic Books (Bleeding Cool): Robert E. Howard’s Conan is brought to life UNCENSORED! Discover the true Conan, unrestrained, violent, and sexual. Read the story as he intended!

In the kingdom of Vendhya, the king has just died, struck down by the spells of the black prophets of Yimsha.The king’s sister, Yasmina, decides to avenge him…and contacts Conan, then chief of the Afghuli tribe. But several of Conan’s warriors have just been killed by the men of the kingdom of Vendhya, further complicating the matter. The princess thought she could use the Cimmerian, but rather it is she who will serve his interests…

Fiction (Misha Burnett): I love it when a plan comes together! Yes, I do have a plan, although it may not be evident from my publishing schedule. Ever since I realized that short fiction is the ideal medium for me, I have been working towards building a body of work. As I’ve said several times in this blog, I am now writing stories with an eye not just to first publication, but to inclusion into a series of collections.

Fiction (Marzaat): My multi-part look at this John Buchan collection concludes. Buchan took a cruise to the Aegean in 1910 and that’s the setting of “Basilissa”. This 1914 story is my least favorite in the collection. It mixes precognitive dreams with a standard damsel-in-distress romantic plot. Every April since boyhood Vernon has had a dream where he enters a house with many rooms and senses a danger. On each repetition of the dream, the danger draws closer.

RPG (Tenkars Tavern): Using my Soapbox to “Discourage” a Problem at Some Tables… So I’m not 100% when this post will be, well posted, but I’m running with the assumption that this will be my 1st weekly entry here at the Tavern. There’s so many things I could write about, but one thing popped into my head, something I feel strongly about and something that has a back story. There are probably three things I’m passionate about, well maybe five things, or 50……..I really don’t keep track, but clearly I’m a passionate, passionate man…..

History (Brandywine Books): I’ve been doing a little translation lately (I’ll tell you more about it later) which reminded me of one of my favorite passages from Snorri Sturlusson’s Heimskringla. This story involves King Eystein I, far from the most renowned of Norway’s kings, but very possibly the most likeable. He was part of a set, sharing a joint monarchy with his brother, Sigurd Magnusson. They were both the sons of King Magnus Bareleg, who never got the memo that the Viking Age was over, and died young and outnumbered in Ireland, declaring, “Kings were made for glory, not for long life.”

Pulp Magazines (Pulp Net): Adventure magazine was one of the “Big Four” of pulp magazines. For those not aware, the other three are Argosy, Blue Book, and Short Stories. Adventure existed from 1910 to 1971, though not always as a pulp fiction magazine. Ridgeway, which had been bought by Butterick Publishing, who published sewing patterns and related magazines, published Adventure, along with Everybody’s and Romance, until selling these to Popular Publications in 1934. I suspect Butterick basically sold Ridgeway to Popular, similar to Popular buying out Munsey in 1941.

Art (DMR Books): The great Al Williamson died on this date in 2010. Not to be confused with the equally cool Jack Williamson—wouldn’t it have been awesome if Al had adapted Jack’s “Legion of Space” tales to comics?—Al was the “kid brother” and child prodigy at the Cartoonists and Illustrators School which was run by the legendary Burne Hogarth. Al would fill the same role at EC Comics, where he worked with the likes of Frank Frazetta, Roy Krenkel and Wally Wood. Here’s an excellent bio from the Inkwell Awards website:

Science Fiction (Science fiction fantasy blog): The Northworld Trilogy, by David Drake.  This trilogy was first published as three individual novels: Northworld (published 1990), Northworld Vengeance (1991) and Northworld Justice (1992), although I have all three in one paperback omnibus, published by Baen in 1999. The first novel (but not the others) has the distinction of its own Wikipedia page, so if you want a thorough plot summary – complete with spoilers – you can look it up. The principal character of the story is Nils Hansen, a classic SF hero; an intelligent and highly capable leader of a special police unit on the planet Annunciation, and exceptionally skilled in close combat.

RPG (Dr Bargle blogspot): I’ve been running the sample adventure in Blood Sundown for the past few nights for players who are relatively new to RPGs and it has worked a treat. Everywhen’s simple mechanics with little bookkeeping or arithmetic make it ideal for new or casual players, and the range of pregenerated characters included mean you can be up and running almost straight away. The sample adventure could probably be played in an evening if players most fast, but it’ll have taken us three sessions of 2(ish) hours.

Cartoons (Black Gate): The show’s setup couldn’t be simpler. Sometime in the near future – near enough for there to be no such thing as microwave ovens but future enough for personal hovercraft to be no big deal – Dr. Benton Quest (one of the world’s “top scientists”) roams the globe, troubleshooting various problems for the U.S. and other friendly governments. (We’re never told what Dr. Quest is a doctor of, and it’s impossible to pin down his specialty. Is it nuclear physics? Chemistry? Geology? Botany? Oceanography? Molecular biology? Who knows? He shows a deep knowledge of all of these fields and more, like that guy they had to retire from Jeopardy.)

Horror (Jayro Thermal): 8 stories from Year’s Best Horror Stories 1980        The Year’s Best Horror Stories Series VIII, Edited by Karl Edward Wagner (1980, DAW) Volume VIII was the first edited by Karl Edward Wagner. In 1980 the boom was underway.  When I first landed a copy of this paperback, I read the stories by Dennis Etchison, Ramsey Campbell, Harlan Ellison, Alan Ryan, and Charles L. Grant, but I left money on the table when I got distracted and picked up another book instead.

Publishing (Kairos): Imagine that you’re an artist of some sort desiring to make a living through your art. In the case of novelists, this used to mean seeking approval from an agent and then an editor before landing a book deal with one of the big New York publishers. That publishing model is on the way out, thanks to decades of literary malpractice on the big publishers’ part brought to a head by the Kindle revolution and finished off by Corona-chan. We can expect another round of mergers and mid list contract cancellations. When the dust settles, old pub will be reduced to pimping a handful of name authors at Costco.

Sensor Sweep: Year’s Best Horror, Blood Sundown, Al Williamson, Northworld published first on https://sixchexus.weebly.com/