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sshbpodcast · 2 years ago

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We have to go back, Martok! Back to the future!

By Ames

This week on A Star to Steer Her By, there’s no time like the past! We’re looking at time travel episodes in Star Trek, and there are so many that it’s a wonder the Department of Temporal Investigations can make time to examine them all. Unless they’re literally making time for them… hmm.

Time travel episodes prove to be some of the best conceits for their plots in Star Trek, allowing our fearless leaders to experience the past and provide commentary on it, go back and witness how small actions can have huge ramifications, or at least act as your classic fish out of water for comedic effect. It may not have felt like it as we were watching through the series in real time, but the good time travel stories largely outweigh the bad. And there are just too many of them to list them all here, so to save time (pun!), your SSHB hosts are breaking out our classic Top 5 / Bottom 5 format.

Hold on to your chronitons as we near 88mph. Check out all our many favorite time travel plots and the handful of clunkers that should have stayed in the past, and listen to our timely discussion on this week’s podcast (set your coordinates to 1:15:34 for the chatter). You’ll have the time of your life.

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Top 5 Time Travel Episodes

There is just such an abundance of good time travel episodes that we didn’t end up agreeing on many. Which is great for you because it means a wider swath of episodes for us to highlight, and great for me because I get to find all these great screengrabs!

“Time Amok”: Chris Let’s start off with an episode I wouldn’t call strict time travel, but it’s just so good that it gets a pass. Instead of going forward or backward in time, the speed of time becomes variable for the different crewmembers of the Protostar and it’s just so clever and heart-wrenching you’d never think this was actually a kids’ show. Have we mentioned how much we love Prodigy?

Star Trek (2009): Caitlin Hey Trek fam, we hear you like Leonard Nimoy. Well JJ Abrams can hook you up in the first of the Kelvinverse movies. What better way to include Nimoy in a film that already has a younger, shoutier Spock in it than through employing a little time travel? Happily, this movie uses this casting fanservice better than something like Generations (see our bottoms list below…).

“Trials and Tribble-ations”: Chris When Deep Space Nine throws a party, it really throws a party. So the writers’ love note to The Original Series for its 30th anniversary comprises all the best things about Trek: a fun and funny time travel story that’s still smart and interesting and just campy enough to evoke the original “The Trouble with Tribbles.” What a fitting way to celebrate!

“Tapestry”: Jake With a little help from Q, Jean-Luc Picard gets to explore the road not taken and ends up not liking what he sees. “Tapestry” is one of those time travel stories that uses its medium to perfect effect: bringing the viewer along for the ride of a lifetime while always remaining accessible, thought-provoking, and notoriously human. Live life with no regrets!

“Visionary”: Ames We have a special (if not sadistic) appreciation for the “O’Brien must suffer” episodes. Here we get to watch O’Brien die not once, not twice, but thrice! And that’s not even the best part of this genuinely fascinating time travel motif. Think about it too hard and it loses you, but the pacing and intrigue of watching Miles trying to fix the timeline and failing keeps you swept up.

“Yesterday’s Enterprise”: Chris “Yesterday’s Enterprise” was cool even before alternate timelines got big. It’s not only a good way to see how different actions would create entirely different realities (better than the mirror universe, but that may just be me), but it’s also a great redo on the death of Tasha Yar. This is the meaningful departure her character deserved. Sorry about the whole Sela thing…

“Before and After”: Ames A couple more nerdy examples just from me. Having the temporally displaced Kes experience this story in reverse is so clever that I needed to include it on this list. You don’t get to see a lot of unusual storytelling devices pulled off this well in Star Trek, and this episode was smart enough to naturally let it unfold over time. But backwards. Unfold under time? Unfold before time?

“Relativity”: Ames I gushed about this episode probably too much on this week’s podcast episode, but I think it’s just so clever in how the story is told. Like in “Before and After,” the plot reveals itself at the proper pace without either coddling the viewer or confusing them in the moment. And credit to Seven for carrying this episode. Someone get that woman a permanent Starfleet uniform!

“Children of Time”: Caitlin, Jake Good time travel ideas will naturally force the characters to make hard, controversial decisions. In this case we see another alternate timeline that makes the DS9 crew decide which timeline they will follow: one in which their descendants populate a remote planet or one in which they make it home again. Alternate Odo saves everyone that decision… but mostly saves Kira.

“The City on the Edge of Forever”: Caitlin, Jake Another classic episode that makes the characters decide who should live and who must die is one of the very best from The Original Series. Though her intentions are the most pure and also Kirk has put his mouth on her mouth, Edith Keeler’s death is the lynchpin that allows for the progressive future that we see in Star Trek, as heartbreaking as that revelation may be.

“The Visitor”: Chris, Jake Another episode that is among the best of its franchise, if not all of Trek in general! One of our clear favorites from DS9 is also another time travel episode, using the medium to tear-inducing perfection. You try keeping from choking up watching old man Jake Sisko change time itself to bring his father back from the white void of subspace. I dare you!

First Contact: Ames, Caitlin Most (though not all, as you’ll see in a second) of the Star Trek feature films that employ time travel end up topping our favorites list, and First Contact has all the ingredients! The time travel in the movie is to an era in our own future but the world is still recognizable and the effects are historically impactful. The whole movie really takes us on a magic carpet ride!

The Voyage Home: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake But the example that we all agree on is the one with the whales, which got pretty much everything right and used time travel to superb effect. Setting the movie in roughly contemporary times lends to the inherent comedy of the plot, which is balanced expertly with the adventure, action, and drama of this incredibly accessible movie. No dumbasses here, double or otherwise!

—

Bottom 5 Time Travel Episodes

When time travel episodes are at their worst, however, they are mostly confusing or heavily convenient. And when Star Trek fails to stick a landing, it can be a running gag (especially on this podcast) at best and permanently scarring at worst.

“Wrongs Darker Than Death or Night”: Ames I’ve got to throw some shade on this Deep Space Nine episode in which Kira goes back in time just because Dukat was making some “yo mama” jokes. It’s a really really convoluted reason to whip out the orb of time that doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. And I’ll say it: shame on Sisko for foolishly letting her do this. Someone needs his emissary status revoked.

“Time’s Orphan”: Jake Speaking of convoluted episodes. The messaging is all wrong in how one should treat a person who has gone through as much trauma as Molly O’Brien in “Time’s Orphan.” While it’s heartbreaking to watch Keiko and Miles deal with their feral daughter, it’s also excruciating to see how she’s treated and how she’s ultimately to be released into the wild like an animal.

The Temporal Cold War arc: Chris We haven’t gotten to Enterprise on the podcast yet, but even I know about the fandom’s general hatred of the whole Temporal Cold War arc. The whole thing just seems like a waste of time, pun very much intended! It also gives us the future ship, the Enterprise-J, which we’ve shit on before in our starship design blog series, so that’s more points off.

Generations: Caitlin, Chris An even bigger waste of time is getting Captain Kirk into the TNG movies. In a plot so forced they had to ruin a perfectly good Excelsior-class ship design, Kirk is jammed like a square peg into the round hole of the future and then, to add insult to idiocy, barely used and then killed off! Come on people, if you’re going to introduce the Nexus, use it for more than ten minutes!

All of Picard season 2: Ames, Jake We felt very personally let down by the whole of the second season of Picard because it had so much potential. Time travel, as we saw above in our tops list, opens up so many possibilities, but the show simply squandered them. Or worse: started plot threads and didn’t bother to pay them off. Sanctuary districts, anyone? ELNOR, ANYONE?!

The Red Angel arc: Ames, Caitlin I must admit: I had trouble following most of season two of Discovery because there was just too much going on and it failed in its pacing and explanation. This mind-boggling Red Angel storyline wraps up in a sensory overload of a finale that leaves the viewer not experiencing what should be the climax of the season, but feeling lost, stupid, and exhausted.

“Time Squared”: Caitlin, Chris, Jake Not as lost, stupid, and exhausted as the second Captain Picard in “Time Squared” however! This episode is a different kind of confusion: a confusion in what the writers thought they were trying to accomplish in the first place. Why does killing Picard2 break the cycle? Why does flying into a vortex work? Why did the writers make such an interesting timeloop concept so boring?

“Time’s Arrow”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake Even Chris, who you’ll remember loved “Time’s Arrow, Part I,” can agree that “Time’s Arrow, Part II” is tedious, repetitive, and increasingly obnoxious. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it many more times: Mark Twain is the most annoying character in all of Star Trek. Without him, this might have been a better time travel episode, but alas.

“Assignment: Earth”: Ames, Caitlin, Chris, Jake But the worst time travel episode of all is also one that we all agree on and agreed was one of the worst of all of The Original Series, and that’s because it wasn’t even an episode of Star Trek. “Assignment: Earth” is a sneaky backdoor pilot that Gene sneaked past us, and even its time travel wrapper is infuriating. Why is the Enterprise even in the past? Because they simply felt like it? Talk about irresponsible!

—

Welcome back to the present! We hope you didn’t cause any bootstrap paradoxes or become your own grandparent along the way. Over on the podcast, our time with season 5 of Voyager is quickly running out, so make sure you’re caught up for next week’s season wrap up over on SoundCloud or wherever you listen to podcasts. You can also sync up with us on Facebook and Twitter, and we’ll see you next time!

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drizzileiscool · 11 months ago

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here's some more tetris trivia that most casual players don't know if you're interested!

The official term for all the tetris pieces is "Tetromino". The tetrominoes also existed before tetris, and wasn't invented by it.

The title "Tetris" comes from the greek world Tetra, meaning four, and Tennis, which is the favorite sport of Alexey Pajitnov, the person who created tetris.

Tetris was created in the soviet union! because of this, Pajitnov was unable to make any money off of it for a very long time.

In the game Tetris Effect: Connected (please buy it also it's an indie game), you can insert the konami code on the title screen to get taken to a screen with another code input. Typing in "06061969" gives you access to a secret stage in the extra modes, which is based off the very first version of tetris created in the soviet union, and is titled 1969! (if you're doing it on consoles, you might need to connect a usb keyboard)

(slightly more known) There is a tetris movie on apple tv that is also a documentary of the creation of tetris! haven't watched it myself, and I've already seen a video on the entire history of tetris so I don't think I need to, but give it a watch if you can! (psst.. and if you don't wanna support apple you can always... you know... yar har har sail the seven seas.)

Before the tetris company was created, any company was allowed to create whatever wacky version or bootleg of tetris they wanted to create, which is why almost every console has had at least one version of tetris.

There is a game series called Tetris: The Grandmaster, and as the title implies, they are extremely hard versions of tetris. The goal is to play fast and earn the grandmaster rank, with TGM2 adding a section at the end where the pieces go invisible. If you want to know just how hard they are, as of 9 months ago, only around 21 people have gotten grandmaster rank in TGM3. And this game was released in 2005. Very hard.

(less of a tetris fact, more of a puyo fact) In 2017, sega released a game titled Puyo Puyo Tetris. This was a crossover between the Puyo Puyo series, and Tetris. However, what most people don't know is that the original unlocalized version was released in 2012! the last puyo game to get localized before this was puyo pop fever in 2007, making PPT the first puyo game to get localized in 10 years!

The names of the tetris side of characters are based off tetrominoes!

Tee is based off the T, Ai is based off the I, Jay and Elle are based off J and L, Ess is based off the S, Zed is based off the Z, and O is based off... well, an O. The characters are shown off in the image below. For more info on them and their personalities, check out their pages on PuyoNexus. And yes, Ai is a dog.

In 2020, Puyo Puyo Tetris had a sequel. And this time, it was a worldwide release, and sega didn't wait 5 years to localize it this time. The sequel was titled Puyo Puyo Tetris 2 (wow what a surprise)

NES Tetris is VERY different from modern tetris, with both having their own separate communities. (Obligatory Tetris Effect shill here! te:c actually has a sidemode that replicates nes tetris! it is called classic score attack and it can be played both singleplayer and multiplayer)

Older tetris games (before the tetris company existed) had different rotation systems, meaning NES tetris, sega tetris, and modern tetris all play differently. Now, each tetris game has to use the super rotation system, which means each game plays the same now. Please watch this video for an explanation on the super rotation system

The SRS (super rotation system) is broken as hell and allows for weird stuff to happen. See this video for a demonstration

i could mention alot more stuff, but this post is long enough already so I'm ending it here. I'm gonna go play ppt1 now also sig is best boy he has all the autism

#im sorry if this is too much to read but you have activated my tetris hyperfixation from the depths lf my soul #ive been wanting to infodump about tetris for a very long time and now that i finally have the chance you bet your ass im gonna infodump #tetris

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pidayforpi · 3 years ago

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"Oh! Uncle Ellsworth!"

Ellsworth put his newspaper aside, raising a lazy eyebrow at the young Goof.

"I always know you are more than a mere mynah bird. You are a genius! A professor! A genius among professors!"

The bird squinted his eyes at his "owner"'s son, visibly unamused by the exaggerated flattering.

"And I know you have a heart of gold, too! Under those slick black, elegant feathers of yours. A bird with a big brain, and a big heart! I am sure you wou-"

"Whaddaya want, Goof boy?"

Ellsworth cut Max off, stopping his over-the-top compliments. The teenager always showered him with compliments when he needed the bird's help.

"I...uh...I need help." Max bit his tongue, looking nervously at the black bird.

"Oh?" Ellsworth put his eyes back on the newspaper, reading the day's headlines while listening to the young dog's plead. "Tell me 'bout it. Homework too hard? Need someone's butt kicked?"

Max bit his lower lips with his two buck teeth, struggling to tell his housemate (technically) about his problem. He looked at the ground, fidgeting with his gloved fingers.

"Or..." Ellsworth flashed Max a smug smile. "Girl problem?"

"Um...guy problem, actually..." Max whispered, blushing.

"Oh? Cool, cool." The mynah bird still looked nonchalant, but the fact that he had put down his newspaper showed his interest. "Tell me more."

Max blushed even deeper, but he really did need his "Uncle Ellsworth"'s relationship advice.

"You see...a few days ago, three exchange students came to my school. Three...siblings, actually, from Burbank."

"Mmm-hmm." Ellsworth nodded, listening intently.

"They are a big brother, a middle brother and a small sister. They attend different classes, and the big brother goes to mine."

"And, lemme guess: Sits next to ya?"

"Yes...! And he's so awesome! His red nose, his floppy ears, his brown slacks, and his stunning smile! I love everything about him! Oh, and his voice...That handsome tenor, singing voice...When he yaks..." Max rambled about his newfound crush, his image occupying all of the lovestruck Goof's mind.

Ellsworth chuckled at the teenager's infatuated expression. "Can tell ya're very in love. I can almost see hearts in those eyes, boy."

Max came to his senses to see his tail wagging uncontrollably. He immediately tried to subdue the burning passion in his heart, regaining his composure.

"So...um..." Max coughed, looking away in embarrassment. "...I need your help..."

"To win his heart?"

"T-to get to know him first...!"

Max shouted nervously, though he really would like to give that eldest sibling a hug at once.

...if his siblings weren't so protective of him.

"And speaking of which..." Max continued. "I think his little siblings already have their eyes on me. They probably guessed that I had...feelings for their big bro..."

"They aren't wrong." Ellsworth smiled.

"They are-! Actually, yeah. They aren't wrong...But the point is: I have to be very careful about what to say to their big bro. They have their mallets ready, and I really don't want to get on their bad side...So! I need your help!"

"Alrighty."

Ellsworth hopped down from the window sill, putting his nicely folded newspaper onto the coffee table. He stood on the sofa chair, such that he was on the same level as the taller dog.

"I'm just a single ol' bird, but I'll do my best to help ya." Ellsworth smirked.

"Oh, thank you thank you thank you! You're the best, Uncle Ellsworth!" Max beamed, shaking the bird's hand gratefully.

Ellsworth adjusted his green cap, smiling. "Ya may not like it, though. Don't say I didn't warn ya."

"Just tell me, and I'll follow!"

"Alright. Ya said it, mate."

Ellsworth jumped down from the chair, landing in front of the eager teenager. Immediately, he put his feathered hands behind him, looking like a military trainer.

"First of all..." Ellsworth slapped Max's upper leg lightly. "Don't try to cosplay as yar favourite pop star, and put on a whole fiasco to try to 'impress' yar crush. It's costly, it's crazy, and very much cringy."

"W-wait...! How did you know I was...?!" Max gasped, blushing deep red as his "master plan" was discovered by an unintended audience.

"I live in the same house as ya, boyo." Ellsworth grinned mischievously. "Dontcha worry, though. Won't tell the old Goof 'bout it."

Max sighed. "Man...I have been planning that for so long!"

"Sometimes, less is more, when it comes to relationship." Ellsworth poked Max's stomach. "They wanna know who ya really are. Ya're a good enough chum, dontcha think?"

"So just talk to them like ya normally do! Like ya do to yar pops, yar mateys, me...Go show 'em what ya like! Ya can go skateboarding with 'em. Ya can go gaming with 'em...Just show 'em yar true self! Open yar heart to 'em, if ya want 'em to do the same to ya."

"Ya're already quite a likeable fella, won't ya agree?"

Max stared in astonishment at the bird's words of wisdom. He was always so afraid he would mess things up, he didn't even dare to talk to his now "classroom neighbour". Lest he screwed up his first impression with the "goofiness" he inherited from dad...

But...perhaps he'll find Max's demeanour amiable? Maybe he'll find his "attempt at conversation" friendly and welcoming? Maybe he'll even find his goofy laugh cute...?

"I'm rootin' for ya, kiddo." Ellsworth gave the teen dog a wink.

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Just when Max was about to thank Ellsworth, his attention shifted to the suddenly ringing doorbell.

And that "handsome, tenor singing voice" calling out his name.

"Hello? Maximilian? Are you home? Teach' said you left this at school!"

Upon hearing the person he had been obsessing over just now, Max immediately went into panic.

"Oh no! W-w-why is h-he h-here n-n-now?! I-I...I c-can't...!"

Ellsworth grabbed the shoulders of the panicking teen. "Believe in yaself, Max. All ya need is a bit of confidence."

"But...! But...!" Max's gaze shifted between the mynah bird and the front door. "There's still so much I don't know yet! Like...like...!"

"Then let's learn by doing! There's no time like now!" Ellsworth encouraged. "Have faith in yaself, but know that yar old guy and I will always have yar back."

"Maximilian? You there?"

Max paused for a brief moment at Ellsworth's pep-talk, before responding with a firm nod. His heart was still jumpy, of course, but he knew he had to give it a shot. His father and friends had always believed in him. Now it's his chance to believe in himself.

"Go on, Max. I'll be cheering ya on."

Ellsworth waved his feathered hand at Max with a smile, as the teen approached the front door, held the doorknob, and twisted it open...

"H-hey, Yakko!"

(18-3-2022 ~ 22-3-2022, 28-3-2022)

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Ellsworth Bheezer (Italian: Gancio) is an actual Disney character, though he has only appeared in comics so far. He's a black mynah bird, usually wearing a red sweater (with a "Y" icon) and a green cap/beret.

Technically, he's Goofy's pet mynah bird. But he can talk, walk, read...and is also very smart! He lives with Goofy in Mouseton, and sometimes hangs out with Mickey too. Overall, he's literally smart-casual, and goes on adventures with/without Goofy/Mickey knowing.

In one of his many adventures, he met his now adopted son Ellroy Bheezer (Italian: Gancetto, sometimes also called "Bruto"). Ellroy is also a talking, walking mynah bird, usually wearing a T-shirt and a pair of trousers (red or green), and a blue cap. Unlike his father, Ellroy often hangs out with Mickey.

#late valentine story (?)#just an excuse to write this character i just knew #and some yax of course #Max Goof #Ellsworth Bheezer #Yakko Warner #yax #story #short story #storyteller

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aion-rsa · 4 years ago

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Star Trek: Lower Decks Season 1 Finale Easter Eggs & References

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This Star Trek: Lower Decks article contains MAJOR spoilers for the Season 1 finale.

In terms of references, if “No Small Parts” was the only episode of Star Trek you’d ever seen, you would have been given a crash course on the entire franchise. Seriously, if you wanted to explain to someone, very quickly, what Star Trek was about, it would probably be easier to just have them watch the 26-minutes of the Star Trek: Lower Decks finale, “No Small Parts.” The Easter eggs and references start with The Original Series and end up with a big shout-out to the TNG movies, the infamous Enterprise finale, and one officially licensed Star Trek toy that is somehow now canon.

Beta III and Landru

The episode opens with the USS Cerritos in orbit of Beta III, the planet from the TOS episode “The Return of the Archons.” In that episode, people all worshiped a bizarre god called Landru, but Kirk and Spock determined that Landru was a computer. Landru encouraged people to go nuts once a day during something called “The Red Hour,” which is kind of like the Trek version of The Purge. Ben Stiller also named his production company “The Red Hour,” a fact which he discussed at length in the first episode of the new Star Trek podcast, The Pod Directive, which is co-hosted by Tawny Newsome, better known to Lower Decks fans as the voice of Beckett Mariner.

Wondering about the word “return” in the episode “Return of the Archons?” Well, the titular Archons were actually humans from an Earth ship called the Archon. The people of Beta III were actually waiting for “the return of the Archons,” meaning, humans from Earth. So, with the Cerritos back at this planet, this is the third time the “Archons” have returned.

Kirk and Spock from TAS

On Ransom’s padd, when he’s talking about Kirk and Spock figuring out that Landru “was a computer,” we see an image of Kirk and Spock, exactly as they appeared in Star Trek: The Animated Series in 1973 and 1974. This is the first time that exact animated series depictions of Trek characters have appeared in another Trek series.

Don’t make me paradox you into destroying yourself!

Captain Freeman’s threat to Landru references one of Kirk’s famous talking-a-computer-to-death speeches at the end of the same episode, “Return of the Archons.” Kirk also famously talked other AIs to death in “The Changeling” and “I, Mudd.”

“TOS Era”

Ransom says it’s “always weird visiting planets from the TOS era.” Freeman naturally questions him on this, and he explains it’s what he calls the 2260s because it was filled with “Those Old Scientists,” or TOS. Obviously, the joke here is that “TOS” is what fans have been calling Star Trek: The Original Series, since, well, there’s been a Next Generation or TNG.

“A Gamester of Triskelion or whatever”

Freeman says she never wants people to get taken advantage of by “a gamester of triskelion.” This references the TOS episode “The Gamesters of Triskelion,” who are revealed to be talking brains who make bets using a currency known as “quatloos.”

Captain Freeman Day

Boimler mentions that the Cerritos has a “Captain Freeman Day,” which references Captain Picard Day from the TNG episode, “The Pegasus.” This is the third time in 2020 that a new Trek series has referenced Captain Picard Day. In the first episode of Picard — “Remembrance” — Jean-Luc revisited the Captain Picard Day banner. And, in Episode 5 of Lower Decks, Captain Picard Day was also referenced outright.

Exocomp

The robot named Peanut Hamper is an Excocomp, a type of sentient artificial life first seen in the TNG episode “The Quality of Life.” In that episode, the Exocomps were recognized as being sentient in 2369. Lower Decks happens in 2380, so it seems like a lot has happened since then. “The Quality of Life” was also directed by Jonathan Frakes, who, spoiler alert, appears in this episode of Lower Decks.

Wesley Crusher worked with his mom!

Mariner tries to deflect accusations of nepotism by pointing out that “Wesley Crusher worked with his mom!” This is true! In TNG, Wesley Crusher became an acting ensign on the Enterprise while his mother was a member of the senior staff. Both Crushers were often in staff meetings together! Notably, this episode also ends with Riker and Troi and the USS Titan. Riker and Troi are married and serve together as Captain and ship’s Counselor.

Wolf 359 was an inside job

Mariner’s bad one-time-date tells her “Wolf 359 was an inside job.” This joke is hilarious, but you can also kind of see why people in Starfleet might believe it. After all, the guy who destroyed most of the Starfleet ships at Wolf 359 was Picard, who had been assimilated by the Borg in “The Best of Both Worlds.” Semantically, because the Borg stole knowledge from Picard’s mind and used him to take down Starfleet, they had inside information.

As he’s leaving, Conspiracy Theory Guy says “Changelings aren’t real, the Dominion War didn’t happen!” This references the Dominion War in Deep Space Nine, which was mostly perpetrated by the shape-shifting race of aliens called The Founders but more commonly called, Changelings.

Kalla system and the Pakleds

The faked distress call in this episode comes from the Kalla system. This references the TNG episode “Firstborn,” in which the Kalla system is mentioned as a place the Pakleds hang out.

However, the Pakleds themselves only appeared in one TNG episode ever, “The Samaritan Snare.” As Boimler and Freeman point out, people thought they were a joke back then, too, but it turns out, they’re not anymore!

Apparently, people eat salmon on First Contact Day

Ransom says the Pakled ship is carving up the Cerritos like a “First Contact Day salmon.” First Contact Day references the First Contact, where the Vulcans first formally landed on Earth and met humans. Why would people eat salmon on First Contact Day? Well, First Contact happened in Montana, so maybe, just maybe, there were salmon there?

Mariner’s contraband

We knew in Lower Decks episode 1, that Mariner had hidden various outlawed items throughout the ship. But, in this scene, we see way more of it. Here’s a breakdown of Mariner’s stuff.

A Tribble from “The Trouble With Tribbles” et al. Mariner later says she uses it for “personal reasons.”

A fencing foil. This references Sulu fighting with a sword like this in “The Naked Time.” It also references Mariner telling Boimler that he could become a “sword guy” in the first Lower Decks episode, “Second Contact.”

A bottle of Klingon Bloodwine

A Klingon Bat’leth

And…a “Spock” helmet. This helmet is based on a toy from the ‘70s produced by AHI. For years, fans have pointed out the helmet has nothing to do with Spock or Star Trek, despite the fact that it was sold as a real Star Trek toy. Ethan Peck jokingly unboxed one of these vintage Spock helmets in December 2019 on StarTrek.com. The fact that Marnier has one of these helmets as “contraband,” seems to imply the Spock helmet is canon. Other than Xon, this Easter egg might be Lower Deck’s deepest, deepest cut.

Peanut Hamper’s Refusal to Help

When Peanut Hamper the Exocomp says she’ll “pass” on helping save the ship, Tendi says “What about the needs of the many?” This references Spock’s famous axiom from The Wrath of Khan: “The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few…or the one.”

USS Titan entrance

Although Riker’s USS Titan has been referenced several times on Lower Decks, and one officer even found himself transferred there in Episode 6, this is the first time we actually get to see Riker’s Luna-class starship in action. The way the Titan looks matches with its appearance on the covers of non-canon novels, as does its register number: NCC-80102. In 2379, Riker became the captain of the Titan and Troi, the ship’s counselor.

RED ALERT!

Riker says RED ALERT twice in these Titan scenes. Once when the ship makes its big entrance, and again when he says “We’re still at Red Alert!” This references Riker’s habit for saying “RED ALERT” really, really loud on TNG.

Riker’s first officer seems to be the same species as Linus from Star Trek: Discovery

The alien in the First Officer’s chair looks very much like the Saurian (lizard person) Linus from Star Trek: Discovery. In theory, “Saurians” have been in canon for a long time — Bones and Kirk drank Saurian brandy in TOS, and a Saurian was a prominent background character in The Motion Picture.

Romulan Ale

Mariner says that Riker is “flush with Romulan Ale.” Although Lower Decks referenced Romulan Whiskey in its first episode, this is the first reference to Romulan Ale. In Nemesis, Riker and Troi had Romulan Ale served at their wedding. So, Troi saying “We’ll talk about this,” might reference the idea that she had assumed that all the Romulan Ale had already been drunk.

Starship refit

Captain Freeman insists that she doesn’t want the Cerritos to have cosmetic changes, saying “I hate it when a ship gets repaired and comes out looking all-Sovereign-class.” This references the idea that the original TOS Enterprise looked very different after its refit in The Motion Picture. But, more specifically, it references the Sovereign-class USS Enterprise-E, the ship that replaced the Enterprise-D in Star Trek: First Contact.

Jax’s Death

Jax is the security chief of the USS Cerritos and unexpectedly dies in the first season of a new Star Trek show. This could reference Tasha Yar — the security chief of the Enterprise — who died in the first season of TNG. Jax’s funeral echo’s Spock’s funeral in The Wrath of Khan, but also, Airiam’s funeral in the Star Trek: Discovery episode “The Red Angel.”

Riker calls Carol Freeman his cha’dich

Like Mariner calling Boimler his “cha’dich,” in “Second Contact,” Riker calls Freeman — Mariner’s mom — the same thing. “Cha’dich” is a Klingon term that means someone is basically someone’s loyal assistant, who does their fighting for them. Picard was Worf’s “cha’dich” in the TNG episode “Sins of the Father.”

We don’t use money anymore

Riker tells Mariner “Why don’t you buy me a drink!” Mariner replies “We don’t use money anymore.” This references the fact that most people in the Federation don’t use money. Kirk says something very similar in The Voyage Home when Dr. Taylor says: “Don’t tell me you don’t use money in the 23rd century,” to which Kirk replies, “Well, we don’t!”

Tulgana IV

The planet the Titan is headed for at the very end of the episode is Tulgana IV. This is the same planet Boimler and Mariner visited in the second Lower Decks episode, “Envoys.”

Boimler has a picture of Jack Ransom in his new quarters?

It really looks like that Boimler has a round photo of Ransom in a place of honor in his new quarters. This is hilarious and weird. Does Boimler think Ransom actually was his friend?

Armus

Mariner is so angry that Boimler left the ship without telling her that she says: “I’m going to feed you to an Armus!” This references the oil-slick alien Armus from the TNG episode “Skin of Evil.” Again, this is the creature who killed Tasha Yar.

Riker is still obsessed with the NX-01 Enterprise

Riker says he is late to the bridge because “I was watching the first Enterprise on the holodeck, You know Archer and those guys.” This references the infamous finale of Enterprise called “These Are the Voyages…” which is framed as Riker interacting in a holodeck simulation that recreates the final mission of the NX-01 Enterprise.

Little Risa and the Little Horga’hn

Riker and Troi talk about visiting “Little Risa” on Tulgana IV, which prompts Troi to ask if “we should bring the little Horga’hn.” This references a statue called the Horga’hn which you’re supposed to display openly on Risa if you want to well…get busy. In TNG’s “Captain’s Holiday,” Riker tricked Picard into picking up a statue.

Oh the Jazz

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

Riker’s warp speed catchphrase is: “Give me warp in the factor of 5, 6, 7, 8!” He snaps and counts down to this like he’s getting ready to play jazz. Troi says “Oh the Jazz,” which seems to reference her annoyance with this obsession. In “Second Chances,” Troi mocks Riker for being unable to play a certain trombone solo correctly on a song called “Nightbird.” Riker’s interest in playing jazz, specifically the trombone, started with the episode “11001001.” Most recently, Riker was listening to jazz in the Picard episode “Nepenthe,” when Jean-Luc showed up at his house. And now that Lower Decks has put Boimler on the USS Titan, it seems very, very likely that we’ll be hearing more of Riker’s jazz trombone playing in season 2. Hit it!

The post Star Trek: Lower Decks Season 1 Finale Easter Eggs & References appeared first on Den of Geek.

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duhragonball · 4 years ago

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (124/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

The Jindan Cult's war against the Federation was essentially a coordinated series of raids. Small groups of Saiyan cultists would attempt to invade a planet, usually along the Federation's frontier, and the defenders would be forced to respond before they could entrench themselves. The Saiyan Free Company, led by Princess Seltiss, could be counted on to handle one or two Jindan cultists, and the Federation fleet could intercept the cult's ships and destroy them before their crews could bring their powers to bear. But when six or more of the cultists landed on a planet together, it was a job for Luffa. Only the Super Saiyan had the power to cope with so many of the alchemically-enhanced warriors. And even then, they managed to wear her down, battle by battle, to the point where she needed time to recover.

During Luffa's convalescence, the cult managed to conquer Yars and without Luffa available to stop them, they went to work on fortifying the planet to serve as a base of operations. All the Federation and its allies could do was to intercept any Jindan reinforcements before they could reach the occupied planet.

But the cult had other ways to strengthen its position. Later, Yartian witnesses would tell stories of a gruesome ritual they performed, where one of their priestesses vomited red liquid onto the ground, and then an enormous earthen figure emerged from below. Then they worshiped this walking idol with cheers, songs, and sacrifices. The Federation's defenders knew this creature was an avatar of the cult's leader, Trismegistus, also known as the Saiyan King Rehval III. These avatars were immensely powerful, and now that the occupiers had one of them on the planet, there would be no way of removing them without Luffa's help.

"I would have thought she'd have been here by now," the rock-Rehval said. He was seated upon a giant stone throne that his followers had built for him in what used to be the planet's capital city. "Fifteen of my followers would be tempting enough bait by themselves, but I was sure she'd jump at the chance to destroy another one of my bodies."

One of his flock stood on the armrest of his stone chair. His job was officially to oversee construction projects in the area and to see to his master's needs, but the rock creature needed nothing, as the real Rehval was controlling it from many light years away. He was mostly there to let the avatar know when it was time to fight.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Thrice Blessed One," the man said.

"Well, it can't be helped," Rehval said with a mighty shrug. "I'll just go dormant for a while and check in again. It's not like she can get close to the planet without one of you sensing her approach or detecting her ship."

And so the great stone form of Rehval grew still. And just as the attendant turned to consider his other duties, he was decapitated by a beam of red light. Had he survived this, or if his master had not withdrawn his presence from the earthen figure, one of them might have recognized this as Luffa's signature technique, the Vengeance Cannon. Instead, his headless body tumbled to the idol's feet, while the idol itself remained motionless. Luffa approached it a few seconds later, and waited patiently for the other fourteen cultists to sense her power and find her. Civilian witnesses would describe the yellow glow of her hair and tail, and a sense of unease. Most Federation citizens appreciated Luffa as a benevolent protector, but many had seconds thoughts after seeing her in action. The news media tended to edit footage of her battles for the sake of decorum, but those who saw her fight in person had no such filter.

"You fools make it so easy," she gloated when they finally arrived. "You thought I'd rush in on a battleship, full power, give you plenty of warning. It never occurred to you that I'd do it all sneaky-like, did it? Suppress my power, coast my way into the system, reconnoiter for a few days."

"We still should have detected your ship!" one of the cultists protested. They all surrounded her as she floated above their earthen idol, daring them to chase her away from it.

Luffa laughed. "You call yourselves Saiyans?" she scoffed. "You must have forgotten everything you know about warfare when you went for this magical nonsense. You took this planet, sure, but you're still behind enemy lines. All the defense systems are enemy tech, aren't they? Including the early-warning outpost on the twelfth planet in this system. You didn't think those guys were much of a threat, but they've been scrambling your sensors since before I got here. So if you didn't detect my ship, blame those guys. I'm surprised your 'all-knowing' leader didn't mention it to you earlier."

"You're still outmatched, infidel!" one of the cultists cried as she brandished her spear at Luffa. "Even if you could defeat all of us, we only have to touch Trismegistus' form to summon him back to aid us!"

"Yeah," Luffa said. "I'm counting on it. Should make things really interesting. How long would it take for him to get here? A minute? Two minutes? And how many of you will be alive to help him once he's ready? And that's assuming you can get past me long enough to touch this thing. So many variables. I'm getting excited just thinking about it."

Without warning, she suddenly pounced onto one of the Jindan Saiyans and wrapped her legs around his before any of them could react. As she locked in the hold, he cried out in agony.

None of then had expected her to do this. It was folly to use a jointlock on a single opponent during a battle with so many enemies. And yet Luffa had done it anyway, leaving herself wide open for an attack. Only the attack never came, because her foes were too confused to seize their chance.

When one of them finally did react, he got as far as crying "For the Glory of Trismegistus!" before Luffa flew into the air to dodge his blast. Then she slammed into him, dragging her captive behind her as she continued to torture him with her hold.

"She's mad!" one of the Saiyans said in a panicked voice.

Luffa's raucous laughter did little to dissuade them from this opinion. She flew around her enemies like a hornet weaving through a group of frightened picnickers. When they finally gained the sense to try to intercept her and box her in, she used her arms to fire back on them. A Saiyan tried to cone up from behind her, but she flipped around as he approached, and swung her captive into him like a club.

His now constant wailing had taken a severe toll on their morale. Only a short while ago, they had been confident about their mission, but now, they all felt they were in a battle for survival, and they were losing. None of them dared to go for the earthen giant below. As powerful as the avatar could be, they each feared that Luffa would pick them off unless they all fought together.

As Luffa dodged their attacks, one of them stood still, struggling to prepare an energy technique. A ball of light coalesced above his right hand, and he growled and gritted his teeth as he willed it into existence. When the moment was right, he would unleash the power, and then--!

Before he could finish, a plasma bolt struck him on the side of his head, and he collapsed. He was dead before he hit the ground. Six hundred yards away, Zatte smiled as she looked at his dead body in the scope of her rifle, then shifted her aim to pick out a new target.

On the battlefield, the Jindan Saiyans saw one of their own fall, and believed it was Luffa's doing. They began to fear that her attacks could come without warning, and their panic forced them to go on the defensive. Luffa had killed the man she had caught in her leglock, and now she was seeking out a fresh victim. No one wanted to volunteer. In this way, the Jindan Saiyans gave up their sole advantage over Luffa. Their numbers could only overwhelm her if they attacked her together. Now, as thy scattered and kept their distance, they were unable to coordinate anything. One of them went for the avatar on the throne. Luffa fired a ki blast that got there first, reducing Rehval's graven image into a cloud of dust.

Luffa grabbed a Saiyan woman and broke her neck with a single kick. Another Jindan Saiyan tried to fight back, but he was cut down by Zatte's sniper fire before he could act. Luffa spared a backward glance to where the plasma bolt had come from, but quickly turned around in time to block an elbow strike and reverse it into a hammerlock. She used the man as a shield for a moment, then fired a ki blast through his torso, killing him and one of his comrades in the same shot.

That left just six of the original fifteen. With the power of Jindan running through their veins, six Saiyans were more than a match for nearly any force in the galaxy. Against Luffa, six were nothing at all. Under different circumstances, Luffa might have toyed with them, but she felt that they had held this planet long enough, and deemed that their occupation would not last a moment longer than necessary.

Civilian witnesses would later speak of the brutal efficiency of those final moments of the battle, but also that Luffa was laughing with joy the entire time.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The Federation had managed to thwart or repel every Jindan invasion into their territory. The casualty rate on the cultist's side was 100%. They continued to send warriors anyway. The prevailing attitude among the Federation's military leaders was that if they could easily win this war, if only they could take the fight to the enemy. But the cultists' home base was its most carefully guarded secret. Here, on Nagaoka, if King Rehval knew or cared that Yars had been liberated, his fifteen warriors slaughtered, and his earthen idol destroyed, he did not show it. Instead, he spent his day poring over scrolls he had gathered over the years, choosing which would offer the best education for his new student.

For her part, Treekul had no interest in learning anything from him. She had only come to this planet because three Saiyans wanted to find the Jindan Cult, and she had been intrigued enough by the opportunity to join their quest. She was an archaeologist, one specializing in ancient alchemical texts and artifacts. She joined the Saiyans for the challenge, and because she knew that Saiyans tended to find a handsome profit whenever they wanted to do something. But the Jindan Cult was no ancient puzzle to be excavated and studied. There was no payday at the end of their search. Instead they were stolen away to a secret lair. Her Saiyan partners had been indoctrinated into the cult, while their leader, Rehval, or "Trismegistus" as they called him, decided to make her his apprentice in the alchemical arts.

It could have been much worse, she told herself. The cult only accepted Saiyans, so it stood to reason that an alien like herself would have been executed on the spot. Her only advantage in this predicament was that Rehval seemed to enjoy keeping her around. He often told her that he found her attractive, but he also seemed impressed with her alchemical knowledge, and maybe he found it refreshing to have someone to talk to who wasn't brainwashed into worshiping the ground he walked on.

And so, her best chance of escape lay in exploiting his fancy. He made her a priestess in his mad religion, and commanded her to wear a sort of dress made of torn robes, and so she did. He wanted to teach her his secrets, and so she played the eager student. He flirted with her constantly, and she did everything she could to hide her disgust. Because she knew that if she did this long enough, he would eventually come to trust her, and that would be when her opportunity would present itself.

That was her greatest strength on a planet full of mighty Saiyans. They all spoke highly of their pride, but Treekul didn't have much use for it herself. "Pride" was just another word for "stubborn" in her book, and she knew far too many stubborn, brittle people who broke because they refused to bend. A little flexibility went a long way. For one thing, stubborn, brittle people had a nasty habit of mistaking compromise with surrender, which made them careless. She didn't like wearing red rags, or being forbidden to cut her own hair, or having to listen to Rehval's lectures, but she could tolerate it if she had to, and Rehval would assume she had already submitted to his will.

As she sat in the underground cavern that served as his laboratory, he went on and on about his discoveries and achievements. She knew the type well. He wanted a woman to hang on his every word, to nod in fascination, and tell him how brilliant he was.

"What is Jindan?" he asked aloud. "The word 'jindan' is easily defined. It's simply another name for mercuric sulfide, commonly known as the mineral cinnabar, or the pigment vermilion. Common chemists would say that it's a toxic substance, and they're... mainly correct. Most carbon-based life forms are poisoned by mercury salts. However, alchemical thought sees beyond the mere physical nature of mercuric sulfide, and explores the deeper truth that the salt represents.

"In alchemy, the element mercury is considered an important symbol. Unlike most metals, it is liquid at room temperature. It flows like molten silver, which is how it came to be known as "quicksilver". It is rather slow to react with most chemical reagents, although it has a number of interesting interactions with other metals. Gold is soluble in mercury, which made it very useful for the ancient mining industries of many planets. With enough heat, a gold/mercury amalgam can be separated. The mercury boils away, leaving purified gold behind. Mercury also dissolves aluminum. It almost seems to devour these metals, which may have been what has fascinated ancient alchemists since the dawn of time.

"Then there's cinnabar. The deep scarlet color of mercuric sulfide is also of great importance to alchemical philosophy. Red, the color of blood, the color of fire. The color of change and life itself. The earliest practitioners of alchemy knew that it held the secret of the great mystery, the mystery that governed all changes in nature. Copper and tin could be refined from mineral ores. Nature provides the minerals, but the metals must be taken through artificial means. The process must be sped up to a time scale that is practical for mortals. That is the power of alchemy. To accelerate or manipulate the natural processes. Mercuric sulfide represents that power in its most basic form. Mix metal mercury with hydrogen sulfide, and they form red mercuric sulfide quite readily. Distill the mercuric sulfide, and the elements can be separated, and the mercury recovered once more. Just like with copper and tin and iron, only mercury can be refined much more easily."

Treekul had heard much of this before, as a college freshman. The professor who taught that course only offered one class every other semester, and only on two days a week in the middle of the day, which had been extremely inconvenient to her schedule. What struck her was how passionate Rehval was about it, as though he wanted to make love to a mercury atom. She had to suppress the urge to laugh at that image.

"The dream of alchemy," he said, finally coming to the point, "is to reduce all natural processes to the same simplicity of refining mercury from cinnabar."

That got Treekul's attention. Simplicity. The core tenet of alchemy was that every process was a natural reaction that could be sped up, slowed down, or even reversed. It was just a matter of knowing how, of discovering the "cheat codes" that made such miracles possible. Know the right shortcuts, and one could do the impossible.

Treekul began to wonder if there was an alchemical shortcut for escaping a Saiyan cult.

"Let us consider the other component of cinnabar, which is sulfur," Rehval continued. "It is native to fire, earth, air, and water. Volcanoes spew fire and air and geysers spew water, all rich in sulfur, which eventually deposits as a waxy yellow material resembling earth. From within the earth, sulfur is born, and to earth again it returns. Molten sulfur turns blood red, hinting at its ties to cinnabar. When sulfur is set aflame, it produces a blue color. Colloidal sulfur is white. The colors illustrate sulfur's connection to the sun. It is the principle of the sun.

"Likewise, mercury is the principle of the moon. Take a bottle of mercury and spill it across a surface. It scatters into droplets, both large and small, like the many moons of different sizes throughout the countless worlds of the universe. These droplets can be bound to sulfur, just as the moons of the universe are bound to their respective suns. However, the moons are defined by their connection with the planets they orbit. Just as the planets exist as the intermediaries of the suns and moons, so does life exist as an interface between the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur. Those with wisdom can recognize this sacred relationship, and thus study the nature of cinnabar, or jindan, in the search for the power over life. For what is life but a natural process, no different from the refining of metal from ore, or the burning of wood into smoke and ash? By manipulating the Principles of Mercury and Sulfur, an elixir can be prepared, one that reacts with the reagents of life itself, accelerating some processes, while slowing others. The ideal elixir would grant a being immortality, but the wise know that this is not a thing to be pursued for material gain, or as an escape from death. No, the elixir of life is an end unto itself. Discover that ultimate secret, and all other secrets, the Whole of the Great Mystery, will be laid bare. What is immortality, when weighed against that perfect and total knowledge?

"Though sulfur represents an equal portion of Jindan, we must consider mercury to be the superior portion. Mercury has the greater density, and its atoms are larger and more massive than those of sulfur. Every planet has a sun, but only some are blessed with the moonlight, of which mercury is a symbol. For this reason, the alchemical notation for mercury is depicted as an arc atop a ring atop a cross. The arc is the crescent moon, the ring is the sun, an the cross is the life on the planet sustained by them both. The cross represents the veins that carry blood through the body, sustaining life with the same color as jindan. Mercury is the moon, placed above the sun, which is Sulfur, placed above the planets, which are Life.

He paused here to write the symbol on a handheld electronic tablet: "☿". It was the only modern technology Treekul recognized in this laboratory. Everything else looked either archaic or unfamiliar, or both. She had seen the symbol before, of course, and the one for sulfur as well, which was a triangle atop a cross. But something about Rehval's fervor in describing it made her uneasy. To her it was a piece of trivia, but it was clearly something deep and meaningful to him.

"All of this," Rehval said, "Is a very elaborate way of saying that Jindan, my Jindan, is a way of harnessing planetary energy as a supplement to ones own ki. Cinnabar represents the connection between the Principles and living beings, but it's also just a mineral you dig up from the ground. Ancient scholars would drink potions of cinnabar and die, or go mad from mercury poisoning, because they took the connection too literally, too directly. The truth is more sublime, more complex.

"You see, there are three types of ki in the universe. The ki of living things is what makes the Saiyan race mighty. We Saiyans have more of this energy than most beings, which makes us stronger, better. Then there's the ki of the heavens. The sun and the moon. The stars themselves possess a ki which is inaccessible to us. Oh, the moonlight allows Saiyans to transform into giant apes, but the moonlight is only a catalyst for releasing latent ki we already possess. That's why I cut off my tail a long time ago, because I learned to harness that latent power without transforming. It's why I ask my followers to do the same. We don't need the moon. We don't need tails.

He pointed at the cavern floor. "What we need is the third ki, which is found in the ground beneath our feet. This is the interface where life and the heavens meet. Mercuric sulfide. The moon and the sun combine to form a mineral, which resembles lifeblood but can kill the uninitiated. My Jindan is the ki equivalent of that elixir. My technique is to draw power from within a planet. Done properly, it can magnify your strength many times over. But if the power is harnessed recklessly, it can destroy the user completely. Do you understand, Treekul?"

"Not entirely, but I get the general idea, I think. How'd you figure all of this out?" she asked.

"Alchemy has long been one of my passions," he said. "I wasn't blessed with great ki like other members of my family, and I sought an explanation for that injustice. Alchemy teaches us that the universe is governed by rules, but those rules can be manipulated by those who know how. Thus I was able to become as strong as I wished, as powerful as I wished to become. I turned lead into gold by transforming my base self into the golden King of the Saiyans. Soon to become King of the Universe. There remains only one obstacle, one stubborn impurity to be purged."

"Luffa," Treekul said.

"I've seen enough divinations to know that our destinies are intertwined, hers and mine. She is the Sun, bright and yellow and powerful. I am the Moon, lurking in the shadows, sublime and contemplative. The key is that our genders don't line up to that analogy. In alchemical thought, the Sun-Sulfur Principle is male, while the Moon-Mercury Principle is considered female."

"Cool, but what's that got to do with it?" she asked.

"It means that I must join with her, to complete the intermingling of our essences," Rehval said. "Well, that sounds a bit esoteric, doesn't it? The simpler explanation is that I need her, or some part of her, to complete my legacy. If she won't join me, then I'll have to take from her what I need. The Golden King must have the Super Saiyan power along with everything else. As a Saiyan myself, it stands to reason that if I defeat the Super Saiyan, that would mean I become the Super Saiyan."

"Wait, you think killing her would suddenly cause you to absorb her transformation into yourself?" Treekul asked.

He chuckled at that suggestion. "No, not really, though it is an interesting possibility. Perhaps the Super Saiyan only emerges once every thousand years because there must be one and only one. If the one that emerges were to die, would the power automatically go to another? Another natural process in the universe, one that I can study and master, but only when Luffa has been neutralized once and for all. I don't need to become a Super Saiyan literally, Treekul. Not when I can learn what the power is and how it works. If I find a way to make Super Saiyans at will, then I would be more powerful than any Super Saiyan before or after. That's the power I want. If my descendants can benefit from it, then the Saiyan race will have surely triumphed over all."

Treekul wasn't sure what to say. "You're a hell of a guy, King Rehval," was all she could manage.

"Thank you, my dear," he said. "And I think you'll make an excellent courtesan. It'll be nice to have someone to discuss spagyric theory with."

She made an audible gulp.

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Planet Yars.]

Luffa's star-yacht, the Emerald Eye, had fifty cabins, most of which rarely ever saw use since Luffa took ownership of the vessel. She had occasionally used the extra living space for guests, though the only time it had approached the maximum capacity was when she had hosted strategic conferences between the Wist-Extraliga Wars. Among the many aliens on board during that time, there was once a Solarian monk who had left a letter on the bed during his stay. He had sensed great turmoil in Luffa's spirit, even by the standard of most warriors he had encountered, and his intention was that she would discover the letter at some later date, and perhaps find a measure of comfort in the words he had written. Also on the bed were a pair of the monk's headphones, which had no special significance. He had left those behind purely by accident.

When Luffa finally entered the cabin, she only noticed the letter and headphones long enough to sweep them aside as she laid her wife on the bed. The monk's letter fell to the floor, where it would never be seen again. They were too preoccupied with each other to worry about it.

"You... never... should have... got...gotten... so close to the....mmph... battlefield," Luffa said as she started pulling off whatever articles of clothing she could manage. She had some trouble speaking, as Zatte kept kissing her between each word.

"You're right," Zatte said. "But you were there, so I went in anyway."

"I almost didn't make it," Luffa whispered into her ear. "One of them was all set to blast half the city. The half you were in. He would have killed you--"

"But he hesitated," Zatte replied. She grabbed the front of Luffa's sleeveless shirt and pulled on it until it ripped apart. "They always hesitate, because they don't know who I am or what I'm doing there. More than enough time for my golden girl to come to my rescue."

"I was fighting twelve of them," Luffa panted.

"Eleven, after the one I shot," Zatte said. "Ten, if one of them managed to run off looking for the shooter. And they never find me until I want to be found."

"That's still too close, young lady," Luffa said. "You took a big gamble..."

"It felt like it," Zatte said. "But I wasn't really in any danger. Or are you saying those twelve Saiyans were too much for you?"

"You... ah!... you want the truth?" Luffa asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I didn't," Zatte asked.

She inhaled sharply and gripped Zatte's shoulders tightly. "I have no idea," she said.

"Say that again," Zatte said.

"I don't know for sure if I could have beaten all twelve of them or not," Luffa said, an octave higher than she usually spoke. "Not if one of them managed to bring that rock creature back to life. Dammit, your hair smells amazing."

"Thanks, but don't... wow... don't change the subject."

"I thought I was in a pinch," Luffa said. Her voice began to tremble as she went on. "I was actually... glad when you shot one of those guys... but then I wasn't sure I could hold them off and help you at the same time."

"But you did," Zatte said. "You won, just like always."

"Thanks to you," Luffa said. "Without your courage I... I..."

For some time after that, they each found they had little else to say, so they used their bodies instead. There was a great deal of theatrics to their intimacy. Luffa alternated between her transformed and normal states depending on the mood. Occasionally, Zatte would become invisible, or alter her own body temperature using her ability to manipulate energy, mostly for the novelty of it. Telepathic communion had proven corrosive to their relationship, though Luffa had recently discovered a way to work around that. Instead of opening their minds to one another completely, she could establish a connection very briefly, allowing only a very small exchange of their thoughts. Mostly these mental quanta were too small and random to be of any meaning. It was for fun, more than anything else. A way for each of them to hear the other's voice in her head, even if it was gibberish like "laundry", "perpendicular", "beloved", or "leftovers".

There was no clock in the room, and neither of them had any interest in asking the computer to tell them the time. The battle of Yars was won, and until there was any word on another attack, there was nothing to do but wait. At some point, Zatte stood by the cabin window and admired the view of the planet's dayside.

"Was this how you thought it would be?" she asked Luffa without looking away from the window.

"What do you mean?" Luffa asked.

"I mean, was this how you wanted your life to turn out?" Zatte asked.

"Well, the last couple of hours have gone great," Luffa said with a satisfied smile.

"I mean, the whole thing, dummy," Zatte said. "When I was a kid, this was pretty much how I thought it would be. I had this old book my uncle gave me before he died. It was all about space battles and all the characters in the illustrations weren't really dressed for it. There was this one picture of a princess staring out a window on a ship. I guess that's why I'm standing here right now."

"Yeah, but you don't really like to fight," Luffa said.

Zatte nodded. "I guess it's not exactly what I had in mind, but most of it worked out for me. You and me, together, roaming the stars in our ship." She turned from the window, and gestured to the ocular implant where her right eye used to be. "I guess I pictured myself having two eyes and a lot fewer scars, but I think it's worth it. I may not like to fight the way you do, but I take a lot of satisfaction in the results. I have a holy cause. Someone to belong to. That's worth a few injuries, I think."

She sat down on the bed and patted Luffa's shoulder. "So was this anything like what you expected?" Zatte asked.

"I don't want this to come out the wrong way," Luffa said. "But when I was a kid, I figured you'd be a Saiyan man, and I'd have six or seven brats underfoot."

"Oh, right," Zatte said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked--"

"No, it's all right, Zattie," Luffa said. "It's just... I had no idea what I'd become. I still don't know what I am. I wasn't kidding before when I said I didn't know if I could beat those Saiyans. It was like, one minute I wasn't strong enough to take them, and the next minute I was. Maybe knowing you might be in trouble was what did it. It pushed me over the edge, like when I first transformed."

"That's wonderful," Zatte said. "If I helped you get stronger, then I'm honored..."

"Before, I would have died before accepting help from anyone in a fight," Luffa went on. "Now... well it doesn't bother me as much. I just sort of shrug and keep going. I've fought battles and won victories that would keep most Saiyans satisfied for a lifetime. But I see all the people who suffer on the sidelines, and that bugs me more than I thought it would."

"You're helping those people," Zatte said. "You should take pride in that."

"Maybe. It's just hard for me to say it's worth it, when I don't really know what 'it' is. Seems like it keeps changing on me. But one thing I do know..."

She took Zatte's hand and drew her closer. "There's a lot I'm not sure about, but hearing you say this is how you hoped it would be... well, that puts my mind at ease. People tell me I'm doing the right thing, and it's hard for me to know if that's true, but at least they're saying it. You guys can't all be wrong."

Zatte lay down beside her and put her head on her shoulder. "You'll see," she said. "One day, you'll understand what you've become. Until then, well, it's kind of cool that you don't get it, but you keep plugging away at it anyway."

*******

[15 June, 233 Before Age. Nagaoka.]

The acolytes waited on her hand and foot, as they always did. Rehval had arranged for Treekul to be a priestess in the cult, which granted her considerable freedom and privilege. Rank-and-file cultists had almost every aspect of their lives micromanaged. Their diet, exercise, sleep patterns, even their sex lives were strictly regulated by Rehval's priests. In turn, the priesthood answered to Rehval, though she had found that they were so thoroughly indoctrinated that they needed little direct guidance from him. Treekul was the only exception. She was mostly exempt from priestly duties, which was fortunate, since she had little understanding of what those duties were. Even so, the cultists treated her with the utmost devotion, if only out of respect for the office.

Rehval had multiple reasons for arranging this. First, it kept his followers off-balance. They had been taught to view outsiders as inferior or even wicked, and yet he had allowed an alien in their midst and given her a place of honor. Contradiction was one of many tools he used to control them all. Second, it suited his ego to work his "apprentice and/or consort" into his private religious order. Third, it kept Treekul off-balance. She was a prisoner here, and the "apprenticeship" made her feel more like a slave than a student. And yet, when she was dismissed from her lessons, she was treated like a queen, and free to do whatever she liked... except leave.

"Is there anything else we can do for you, mistress?" one of her attendants asked. The anxiety in his voice was depressingly typical for this place. It was the sound of a man who was constantly terrified of displeasing his superiors. Like all of the Saiyans here, he had come seeking power, only to find that it would be taken away if he displeased his benefactor.

Treekul finished her meal--a bland stew made with artificial proteins-- and shook her head. "Not unless you know where I can get a haircut," she said. "I could use my ki for that," the other Saiyan volunteered. He raised his hand and the tips of his fingers glowed with blue light.

"S-so could I!" the other man quickly added. Treekul was too tired to look at him, but she could tell from his voice that he was worried that he hadn't thought of the idea himself.

"I may have to take you up on that," Treekul said, "but I'd much rather do it myself. There's something pleasant about using a hair trimmer, you know? Too bad I don't have it..."

She was about to mention that her hair trimmer had been confiscated when she was brought to the planet, but then Treekul had an idea. "I mean... it's too bad that it broke down on me the other day," she said. "I haven't slept well since it stopped working."

She ran her hand over the shallow field of green hair on her scalp. "It relaxes me, is all. I know it's not that long, but there's a certain length where it's just right. Too short, and it's rough, like sandpaper. Too long, and it feels too soft. So I trim it constantly, or I used to, anyway."

"Perhaps the technicians could fix it," one of the Saiyan men suggested.

"Technicians?" Treekul asked. "Oh, I'm sure they're much too busy maintaining Trismegistus's more important equipment. It'd be selfish of me to impose."

"Not at all," he said. "I know one of the technicians, and she would be honored to serve you, mistress. She's my... well, she used to be my wife."

Treekul tried not to react to the barely-repressed emotion in his voice. Rehval had very strange notions about breeding practices. She wasn't entirely sure how he ran things as King of the Saiyans, but as Trismegistus, he dissolved all family ties and commanded his followers to participate in communal sex rituals. And yet, Treekul had never seen any children or pregnant women on this planet. Rehval seemed to want a new generation of Saiyans, but she had no idea where he was keeping them. Maybe he had a second underground facility for that.

"I'd like to meet her," Treekul said. "You know, just to see some of Trismegistus' followers working for his greater glory. Yeah, that kind of thing."

What Treekul really wanted was to get as much sleep as she could before reporting to Rehval for another lesson. But this was too good an opportunity to pass up. It had taken days for her to learn enough about the cult's inner workings to confirm that spaceships were routinely moving to and from whatever planet this was. Ships required regular maintenance, and if Treekul could find the maintenance crews, she could find a docking bay, or perhaps a flight schedule or cargo manifest. Even if all she found was a star chart to tell her where in the universe she was, Treekul believed it was worth losing a few more hours of sleep.

"At once!" he blurted out. Then the other Saiyan nudged him with his elbow, and he thought better of it. "Er, I mean... after we've finished our duty shift, that is," he said.

"With your permission," the other man offered, "we could take the device to her and bring it back once it's repaired."

"Nah, that's all right," Treekul said. "I'd really like to meet her in person, and I'm in no big hurry. We can work something out later."

They exchanged awkward pleasantries, the two men apologizing for any inconvenience, and she halfheartedly assuring them that she wasn't displeased with their work. Then she withdrew to her quarters, a space roughly the size of a studio apartment that had been hewn out of solid rock.

It wasn't a total loss, she thought to herself as she lay in her bed. At least she had learned that the technicians weren't off-limits to her. She just had to wait a little longer before seeing them. And once she knew where to go, she could return whenever she pleased

And there were other possibilities. She had hoped Endive might help her once she learned the truth about Trismegistus being Rehval, but so far nothing had come of that. If anything, her devotion to the man seemed to be even stronger for some reason. But maybe Endive just needed time to let the truth sink in. And there was still Lesseri, and Guwar, although she hardly ever saw him anymore.

And there was always the chance that Rehval's enemies might somehow track him down and invade the planet. Treekul wasn't sure she would survive a battle like that, but at least it was one more chance. She was building quite a collection of chances. One of them was bound to pan out.

An hour later, she fell asleep, in spite of the uncomfortable length of her hair.

NEXT: Fytpall.

#dragon ball #fanfiction #super saiyan #lssjluffafic #luffa #zatte #trismegistus #treekul #nagaoka #yars

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2ki8h1 · 5 years ago

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What if Ishimaru and Mondo had both survived the killing game?

So, at the beginning of this year (2019), I decided to embark in a different project: to write a full fanfiction surrounding a certain idea: “What if both of them had survived the killing game?”. The goal of this was to include Ishimaru, as well as Mondo, in the canon plot described by the games and anime (I still haven’t read the novels or the mangas) by creating an adventure surrounding them but also focused in points I wished I saw in Danganronpa. In other words, write about their character development, their relationship (yes, it was supposed to be mainly focused on Ishimondo as a couple, slowly blossoming their romance) but it was also an opportunity to write about tragedy and despair (I enjoy writing horror and angst). I won’t reveal any major spoilers (about my fanfiction) because I haven’t decided if I will continue to work on this. I have other tasks at hand that I need to prioritise. It was supposed to be a big project which I estimated to be longer than 100.000 words. [so far, I have only written over 13k with the 1st chapter still at the beggining, while the second one is already at the middle with over 10k words.]

The point of this post: since I don’t know if I continue this or not, I would love to share the best moments I have wrote so far (both humorous and romantic and I have decided to not share any gory/sad parts). I will give context for every part I share without giving too much details.

NOTE 1: The narrator tries to put themselves in the feet of the character they are focusing on. So, they also try to adopt their way of speech and attempt to convey their feelings facing the various occasions (for example: the narrator is more crude and sad when the character in focus is Mondo)

NOTE 2: English is not my first language. So I apologise for any mistakes found.

WARNING: HEAVY SPOILERS FOR DR1 AND SDR2.

1. “Hopes and Dreams”

Chapter: 1

Context: epilogue of DR1, looking at the metal gate that locked them inside the school, after defeating Junko.

The prospects of a new start were high amongst everyone. Makoto was experiencing a restraint holding his body, in other words, he felt tensed. Suddenly, the feel of warm leather touched his right palm. Kyoko had approached him and gently held his hand. She didn’t made eye contact however he appreciated her kind gesture. “You will not fight this battle alone.” Her speech motivated him and invoked a determined willpower from within which led him to furrow his eyebrows and squeeze her hand slightly harder. Amused by his mood changes, Kyoko tried but failed to conceal a shy, joyful smile.

Mondo walked closer to his brother and hurriedly hurled his long coat to fall over the other man’s shoulder and placed his right arm around Ishimaru’s neck to enfold him in a friendly embrace. That action startled Taka, who barely succeeded to sustain both feet on the ground after the abrupt (and clumsy) headlock. Along with an open, radiant grin, Mondo spoke: “Finally, we’re leaving this place!” Taka with his left hand reached and grabbed Mondo’s right wrist and looked back at him to return his kind words with a soft, resolved smile.

(...)

Byakuya continued to show suppression of his emotions to let his cruel image rule whatever perceptions he wishes others to have of him. Toko was next to him, fidgeting her fingers in embarrassment, peeking briefly at her “beloved” every two seconds with an odd, lustful desire on her face. Hiro, in the other hand, was screaming and crying in ecstasy, praying down in all fours, blessing the floor underneath and showing gratitude to whatever god (or alien) was looking after him.

2. “Lost happy memories”

Chapter: 1

Context: shortly after opening the door, the survivors stand inside the school grounds but outside the building, thinking what they should do next.

Even if any of the lost memories had still not returned, Mondo remembered fondly of the small time he spent with Chihiro during the game, it had been enough for him to develop feelings of admiration towards the geek. He reached out for a specific content that was sitting inside of his long coat’s left pocket (the same coat that continued to shelter Ishimaru’s shoulders) to purposely find the set of stolen photos that served as evidence in the former trial. He glanced upon one in particular. It starred him hugging fiercely both of the baseball star and the computer nerd – he was happy. No, he was extremely happy. Look at his wide, stupid grin; it was a smile that he didn’t recall to see a long time ago. He browsed through the rest and his suspicions were confirmed. He had good times at Hope Peak’s academy. However, the collection was limited. Did he get along with the rest of the class? Were he and Ishimaru as close as they currently are or were they fierce enemies fighting about dumb things? There were a few of him smiling towards Taka. More than anything, he wanted to believe in the happiest statements. He glanced through the same photographs once again but he ended up with the same doubts. He wished to rewind time and relive through those moments one last time where he could adopt the same idiotic, relaxed posture he seemed to use back then. At least, he wished the set included a photo of him with his kyoudai. Did they also resolve their differences with a competition in the sauna? He laughed at the thought.

Ishimaru sighed while pointing at one of them. “I will miss them as well.” At the end of his index finger was a photograph captured by Makoto: They were all posing for the picture, in their school uniforms, inside their classroom (well, almost everyone - of course, Leon insisted in wearing his version of a “uniform”). Mondo turned his head to encounter red eyes glazed, stained with tears that fought to break free. Wow, he really was kind. “We were lucky… I wonder if I truly deserve to be one of the s-”

Maybe too kind for his own good. “Shut it...” He caught Taka surprised with the response. “What would I do without my brother next to me?” Mondo added, wrapping an arm around the other’s neck in a friendly way.

“Maybe it’s true. I still have a lot to lecture you about the true value of effort!”

That was not what Mondo wanted to hear “Oi-“

“And, as selfish as this may sound, I am truly relieved you weren’t the one who passed away.”

Sadness and guilt. Mondo looked at Kiyotaka and remembered how those two words felt. Those were feelings Kiyotaka was over familiar with… hell, even he knew the despair hidden behind those terms.

Mondo had quickly learned to detect those moods. In fact, he was pretty good at it! And he was unnecessarily proud of that achievement... The diagnosis? Symptoms of a low self-esteem. He still hadn’t figure it out how to improve his condition however, he had to think about it later; right now, he wanted to focus in leaving this creepy-ass school.

“Movin’ on… What th’ hell is this creepy smile?” In a sloppy attempt to change the subject, he shoved the mentioned picture in Taka’s face.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Look at your face! You look like those creepy clowns but without the makeup. So stiff and robotic and why are you behaving like a soldier?”

“Ghk- Are you saying I am ugly?”

“Wha-! Ah- Shit! no!” just like mentioned before… embarassingly sloppy “That’s not what I meant! I just wanted to tell ya’ that ya’ need to smile naturally and not force yourself just ta’ try to look good in th’ pictures because it has the opposite result you intended!” Mondo pulled off a different photograph. In this one, they were with their gym clothes, enjoying a P.E. class and Ishi was smiling brightly while cheering for their class “For example, in this ya’ look natural ‘cause ya’ got caught off guard!”

“Oh- I see.” Disappointment was felt in his voice.

“Well- See? It doesn’t mean yar ugly or nothi’, actually I think ya’ are very good lookin’. Ya’ just look funny in photographs. Not everyone is photogenic! ... (especially you…)” he babbles.

“Thank you.” Taka released a soft smile. The type of smile someone would like to record it with a photograph “You are a very kind man, kyoudai!”

And Mondo gets easily flustered with sweet (and cheesy) praises “Oh! Stop it! Don’t worry that pretty head of yours thinking that yer’ ugly or some bullshit like that…”

“I don’t usually concern myself over those issues. But I can’t stop myself from wondering if the lack of a more relaxed posture or behavior is the result of my failures at adopting socials skills.”

Mondo couldn’t deny it. He had the same opinion. He gave it a shrug in an attempt to give the conversation a closure.

“And if I may say so myself. I think you are a very attractive man yourself, Mondo.”

Mondo blushed even harder at the sudden compliment. And again, that cute smile… if only he could make him smile like that in photos…

“I know!! What if I force you to smile spontaneously?”

A small silence broke between the two “Force me to smile spontaneously?” Mondo cringed at the obvious mistake “Did you think that through?”

“Eh- shit! Atleast I am tryin’. I don’t see ya’ spittin’ any ideas!”

Taka chuckled. Mondo never considered to see Ishimaru laugh as he did right now. It created an ambience of comfort. It’s a new side that Mondo wished to see his brother with it in more occasions. “I will try to think of something too, then.”

Observing those two talking was Kirigiri; detective mode activated: the right index finger intertwined and resting on her chin as she would normally do whenever she found herself immersed deep in her thoughts. “Those two seem to be in a good mood. It’s good to have someone to rely on.”

“Well, I consider myself lucky too. After all, I am the ultimate lucky student if I have you backing me up.”

That was… unexpected. Was he trying to be smooth, flirty or just kind? One look at his facial expression: huge smile, eyebrows tense, shoulders determined. He was definately not trying to be flirty but that comment was very effective. She turned around, flushed.

3. “Makoto, the servant”

Chapter: 2

Context: daily life of Makoto in the Future Foundation.

Makoto had woken up with a tedious mood. He checked his alarm clock and groaned… 4 a.m., “Great!” He said before slamming the snooze button and slumping back into the flat, old pillow. He blamed Togami for that. The man continued to impose him waking up at ridiculous hours to perform the most preposterous tasks. To be honest, he sometimes felt to be Togami’s pet or worse… a servant. He cringed at the idea and quickly dismissed such unwelcomed thoughts to not further the cranky mood he was in.

“Peasant, I will need my coffee at exactly 65ºC (150ºF) with just a sniff of cinnamon or I’ll have you thrown into the dungeon. Naegi, you tell them the answer!” He adjusted his imaginary glasses, pointing forcefully to a random nearby object while attempting to copy Togami’s presumptuous act with an over exaggerated high-pitched voice. “Makoto, that was not what I wanted y-you to t-tell… t-them.“ …but he merely ended in chuckles in the middle of the last one, ridiculing his own failed attempts.

He pushed the sheets to one side and hopped off out of bed. Imitating Togami would always lighten his mood. He grabbed his phone to see what horrifying tasks awaited him that day…

4. “Reunion”

Chapter: 2

Context: Mondo was part of the 2nd division (army) while Ishimaru belonged to the 14th division. Mondo was a soldier, facing wars in different points of the world; while Ishimaru worked in Future Foundation’s headquarters, safe from any danger. This was not their first reunion but it was the one where they spent the most time apart. The location of the reunion was in a cafeteria inside FF.

At the end of the corridor, he rested his hands over the knees to normalize his respiratory rate. One mental reminder to himself was to put his exercise in order! Those sleepless nights and postponing his exercise regime were clearly affecting his stamina. Though, he would have to worry about that later. Still panting, he recomposed to an upright stance to meet the single entrance of the beautiful building where Mondo awaited him. The smell of freshly baked buns was causing his stomach to start rumbling. He touched the glass door but didn’t push it to open. Instead he looked through the stained glass and tried to spot him. Shaky breaths were quickly turned into condensation whenever these brushed over the surface of the glass, defocusing the once clear image and forcing Kiyotaka to clean the droplets with his right sleeve. It had been wise to look for him behind the entrance door. It avoided a clumsy search inside the cafeteria for anyone to watch and whisper. He sensed something was beating fast inside of him. He confirmed that his heart was racing when he placed a hand close to his chest. Why did he feel so nervous?

The cafeteria was still pretty empty at this time of the day but a few people were starting to fill the empty chairs and placing their trays on top of the metallic round tables to start enjoying their meals. Loud laughter and loud chatter slowly scattered across the space, too much to his annoyance. He looked at his right, straight to his usual table. It was almost hidden by a load-bearing wall, away from the restless crowd and at the same time, closer to the landscape he so enjoyed. That blooming tree filled his morning with color and energy and made him believe that he could endure another harsh, boring day. Darn, someone was already occupying that… spot. Wait… sun-kissed muscles, different uniform (if not mistaken, he recognized it to be from the 2nd division), bleached long hair… That was Mondo right?

“Mondo.” he whispered only letting himself to hear before opening the door. The smile vanished in a brief second after he noticed bruises, scars and some bandages covering his best friend. Mondo turned his head around almost unconsciously to the scraping sound that the front door’s metallic base did over the tile floor, a common sound that repeated every time someone moved it to open.

Not five seconds passed when a very trembling Ishimaru had his arms around him. Mondo felt a stream of warm tears running loose in his cheeks, damping the collar of his t-shirt. Taka was crying, of course. Gently, Mondo folded his arms around the other’s midsection, pulling him to his lap to allow his forehead to drown in Taka’s neck, surrendering to the embrace.

The comments mocking the odd pair suddenly reverberated through the room, filling the air of not-so-sneaky murmurs. Without separating himself from the warmth radiated from Taka’s right shoulder, Mondo rotated his head, locking eyes with the few smug fuckers. A narrow purple iris shined in contempt out of a squinted corner of his left eye. Some deviated his looks, frighten by the former delinquent’s cold stare, while the boldest ones maintained the glare beside a derisive smile, maliciously enjoying the scene.

Yet, Taka was only focused in who held him; giving minimal concern to his surroundings. “Without hearing from you, I thought you were gone for good!” Hell, he didn’t even seem to notice the bastards around them! He only knew how his arms trembled and how his eyes hurt, overdriven with emotions.

Taka shifted to close the embrace even tighter, to reduce any amount of space that still remained between the two. The strong dedication put in those words chocked whatever sickening feeling Mondo was struggling with. Kiyotaka cherishing him was the remedy he needed to immediately light his mood and now, it was his turn to return the favor. Mondo moved one hand to ruffle Taka’s soft hair, while the left rubbed his back, working in tandem. Whatever it was, the affection was soothing the other’s tears. Mondo gave him time to compensate the time they had been away from each other so this position lasted for a few minutes.

Suddenly, Taka raised his head to look directly into the other’s eyes, who replaced kind eyes for a big smile. Mondo had a wide variety of smiles but this one, this stupid wide, teeth-clenched one meant ‘everything is alright’ where as Taka just continued to feel as hurt and tired. He inspected the scars meticulously, especially the ones across his face before unwrapping his arms around Mondo’s neck. Mondo didn’t budge but his palms slid to rest in other’s hips. Taka detected a tiny cut just under the left eye. He glared at it for a bit before rubbing it gently with his thumb to depreciate the change of texture that usually escorted injuries.

Red eyes were glazed deep in thought to which Mondo frowned and sighed. “Who are you?”

Taka was taken aback with the question. “What? Do you not recognize me?”

The exaggerated dismay on Ishimaru’s expression lines was what caused the loud, boisterous laugh that followed. It started off as a snort but it quickly developed to guffaws. That laugh only belonged to Mondo and to Mondo only. Taka simply gawked at him in absolute oblivion until the other stopped to explain. “I-I am just playin’ ya.” He managed to say between chortles “Ya’ almost fooled me with that long hair of yours, but your face continues the same. Oh gosh! How long has it been? 5 months? Hmph- it looks good on ya!”

This had not been the first time apart but it had been the longest they have been away from each other.

“This is hardly the time for games!”

“Sorry! Pout as much as you want. That cute angry face does not work on me! It was fuckin’ hilarious to see your reaction!”

Mondo conceded. He did look older, more mature, like a proper business man. He smirked turning Taka alert to his movements. He proceeded to remove his gloves and threw them carelessly on top of the table. He cupped Ishimaru’s pale but warm face against his cold hands. He flinched with the abrupt change of temperature but melted into it nevertheless. He pushed Taka’s bangs back revealing the angry wrinkled forehead and some kinky strands of hair that fought free from the grip. He noticed the obvious dark rims under the eyes, knowing full well he was the cause of that predicament. Regardless, he chose to leave the subject untouched. In any case he still had the same face and the same soft raven hair.

(…)

Although not evident, Kirigiri did worry about Ishimaru’s well being. He had a gorgeous smile when he truly felt happy and he was the only who could perform such a confidence boost in Taka.

“Hello, Mondo. It is nice to see you’re back safe.”

He looked at his right to see the former ultimate detective staring at him with a formal smile. “Hello Kirigiri. How are you?”

“Good. What about you?”

“Meh- could’a be worse!” he answered, looking fondly at Taka.

The conversation quickly died and Inadvertently, Kirigiri’s eyes fell over Mondo’s lap, where Taka was still sitting.

For once, Taka was able to read the surprise in Kirigiri’s face and immediately jumped out to his upright position leaving Mondo stunned.

“I didn’t realize I was still in y-your lap. I am so sorry kyoudai!”

He could have been quieter in saying that… Kyoko attempted to cover a snicker behind her usual thinking expression which became apparent that it would be a hard task when holding an apple in each hand.

5. “???”

Chapter: 2

Context: after the “reunion” moment. Taka went to grab breakfast for himself and Mondo, while the other waited for him in the lounge.

Taka rushed to the kitchen without running. Old habits die hard I guess. Mondo chuckled at that. A tall man with ridiculous hair was now approaching Mondo.

“Mondo! So nice to see you again, man!”

“Same, Hagakure. How are you doing?”

“Fine. (gasps) those are some ugly, nasty scars.” Hagakure pointed it out “Are you ok?”

“No, dude. Can’t you see I’m dead?”

“AHHHHHHH- a ghost!”

Mondo is now the one stunned by Hiro’s overreaction.

“Bro… Chill… I am just teasing you… Did you seriously think I was dead? How high are you?”

“Are you sure you didn’t come to haunt me??” Hiro continued, half-hunched, covering half of his face with his forearms, squinting towards an even more stupefied Mondo,

“You have serious problems. I was bein’ sarcastic, ya’ big idiot!”

“Oh- haha! I am glad to hear it!” Hagakure quickly to his usual chirp self and laughed it off “It would be bad news if I had been haunted by a ghost.”

“Whatever man…”

Thank you so much for reading!! And apologies for my terrible sense of humour!

#my writing #danganronpa #Future Foundation AU #ishimondo #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #Mondo Owada Oowada #naegiri #Makoto Naegi #Kyouko Kyoko Kirigiri #Touko Toko Fukawa #Byakuya Togami #Yasuhiro Hiro Hagakure #togafuka #naegami

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chirpycreations · 4 years ago

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How Villians Sleep At Night Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: This story will NOT be my usual happy, bit of violence sorta thing. It will contain some mature themes and language. I don't mean Undertale genocide mature either. I mean abuse, manipulation, depression, low-self-esteem and possibly suicidal thoughts (I'll clarify this list as I work on the story). This isn't something I'd let my 12-year-old sister read so if you're under 14 I probably wouldn't recommend it.

Alrighty, with that out the way, happy reading!

- - - - - - -- -

Cold, windy and cold. The light snow began its descent, its final journey, landing down on his nose and everything around. Drawn like a magnet, he felt his hand jump outwards, catching one of these fallen angels, only for it to dissipate in a matter of seconds.

He paused a few meters from the door, turning back to the tall building which loomed over him. He must look different from when he arrived. His body felt chocked by the bandages around him. Ribcage, vertebrae and skull, left arm laying lazily in a sling. It wasn’t just his recent addition of battle scars and bruises those. His clothes, or more accurately, now his clothes. Donated to him by a friend. They were too small, too tight, too familiar. Sleeves of the tired blue hoodie just surpassing his elbows, trousseaus mimicking shorts, and pink fluffy slipper which, judging by their size must have once belonged to his friends older brother.

The wind wrapped around him as if in a hug to congratulate, or was it to comfort? Both would be appropriate given the events that had passed.

Regardless of its intent, he pulled the scarf up to his nose, covering up the sensitive bone beneath. It was still raw from only having been recently reintroduced to the world that lies around it. A world much colder than the one he had known 4 weeks prior, and for more reasons than just the winter chill, gesturing its commiserations.

He found himself drawn out from these thoughts by the moaning of the snow behind. Crunch, crush, crumble. The snow settled under the weight of the oppressive foot.

He didn’t need to face its domineering owner to know who was approaching. The sigh of heavy boots and ragged breaths. He’d come to know them well.

“I am guessing you did not come to congratulate me on getting out of the Hospital?” His voice was coarse, rusted form lack of use over these last 4 weeks. Those in his defence, he had spent the last 3 weeks asleep and the option to practice such activities had not been appealing this last week, despite his visitors who had shown no such hesitation.

“That’d be correct.” The voice replied, his usual grim tone clouding over.

He could picture the cowboy standing there in the snow. His thick brown jacket, heavy boots and purple scarf, no doubt pulled up high like his own. Yellow beady eyes, peering through the falling snow. The only thing which could penetrate it was the scar running through his left socket. Two lines were torn deep into the bone like a knife through a cloth, jagged edges jumping out at those who dared ask the question; How?

He held onto these images just a little longer. He didn’t want to face him: Judge, jury and executioner. Didn’t want to break the illusion, see the bullet, the disappointment, hate and pity which followed in his final moment. Not now, not from him. Not a reminder of how far he’d fallen. How much he had failed everyone. Them. Himself. Not now, not yet.

The judge let another ragged breath escaped into the wind, then spoke again, his voice still harsh, “We need to talk.”

He almost laughed: Predictable.

He’d imagined this meeting over the last week, dreaded it.

Each time he imagined this outcome, each time only worse. The path so far smiled in his favour, but was it actually kindness? Or the sympathy of fate while deciding which hand to deal him next?

“I expected you would say that. Maybe somewhere a little warmer? I know a suitable spot.”

- - - -

The change of scenery was nice. He had seen too much white: White walls, white snow, white dust. It all blended together after a while. Instead, the calm beat of rain sang out drowning these thoughts; drip, drop, plop. The soft squelch of moss beneath his shoes and cool blue glow of flora. A welcomed change.

He sat on the lone bench, once home to an abandoned quiche to which he believed was adopted by Frisk some months earlier during their last run. A last bid to make their wrongs right? He couldn’t help the bitter smile that came with the thought. They had been the same all along, hadn’t they?

“Alright, let's get this shit over with. I’ve got better things to be doing than dealing with the fucking mess ya’ve made me, bless yar heart.”

The judge; to whom he’d come to know as Apollo, Wayne or his more commonly called name: Justice, over the last 5 months was the same as always. Grumpy, ill-tempered and foul-mouthed. Not knowing better, you’d think it was any other ordinary day. Paperwork, lack of sleep or maybe Squirrel might have contributed to the slight dip in mood, but otherwise, you wouldn’t think different. He knew different. He knew it was his fault.

Justice had taken to standing in front of him. He’d pulled out a dictaphone, notepad and pen. Bad cop, good cop? No, there was only one of him. He didn’t see Sarge or Chara, so obviously he’d been decided as an ‘easy’ case to deal with. Even so, it didn’t feel much like an interrogation. For anyone else, Justice would tower over them like a mighty dictator, interjecting fear and obedience. Then like a master surgeon he would dissect them for his answers. For him, however, the same was hard to say. Even while slouching, his lanky body continued to meekly rise above the judge, even if by only a few centimetres.

The situation felt a little... uncomfortable, but not more than that.

The dictaphone clanks as Justice sat it down on the bench. A bone finger reached out and pressed ‘Record’.

That's it then. No more hiding, no more delays. The inedible was always going to happen. He could only stall for so long.

“Interview #597883. Interviewing S-"

“Hoshi”

His interruption was met with silence, annoyance and confusion. For this story, he is ‘Hoshi’.

Was.

“...Interviewing ‘Hoshi’.” Justice finished his annoyance still very present. Strike one, maybe?

“For future review, this interview will be documented. All information discussed will be kept confidential and on a need ta know bases with only those holding clearance.” The note pad was empty. Did he really know all this off the top of his head? How long had he been doing this?

“You will answer all questions given to you, with nothin’ but the truth and will not withhold any information regardless of its contents. Should ya be found to be lying or withholding anything, then all evidence for your case will be rendered void. Do you understand?”

Tap,

Tap.

Hoshi rushed into an answered upon noticing the impatient pen's rhythm upon the paper. “Yes...s-sir.”

“Justice'll do.”

The silence was his reply, a slight nod of the head.

“Look, I ain’t gonna sugar coat this for ya. You’re in some deep shit here and really fucked up. I don’t think I have ‘ta tell ya how serious the charges you’re looking at are.” He paused, taking a breath, or was it a sigh?

“Endangering the life of a Creator & leaking sensitive information regarding the Bar & it’s Patrons to an unknown 3rd party is pretty fuckin’ serious, and should’a already contributed to 4 accounts of sansicide on you’re head if it wasn’t for sheer fucking luck.”

“That being said,” He added after a moment,

“You did speak out about it and put your life on the line to take the brunt of the consequences (, even if a little late).” He mumbled the latter half, scowling down on the words as if their existence in that order should sentence them to a fate far worse than his own.

“While try’na throw your life away is fucking dumb and won’t fix what you’ve done...myself, Z-Stars and other agreed ya deserve a chance. As well as the numerous vouches towards your character we received, evidence collected would suggest possible fowl play to some extent. Whether this is true or not, I intend to find out.”

How had he gotten here? Everything was going so well. Everything was going according to plan. It was simple enough. Fool proof. 'Hoshi proof', Shadow had even teased him often enough. If any common fool could do it, he would be fine. He couldn't fail.

But still...

- - - - -

"Que se passera-t-il si cela ne fonctionne pas?"

("What shall happen if this does not work?") He asked. He'd felt the fear call at him through the fog of his mind. It's worrying pleas, he could barely make them out, but it seemed logical to respond to them. By responding to them, they would leave. He'd be alone again with the fog. The nothingness. It had grown on him, the emptiness inside.

"Je suppose que ça dépend de la façon beaucoup don't vous voulez rentrer à la maison, n'est-ce pas?"

("I guess it depends on how much you want to get home, doesn't it?") His Shadow replied, in broken french.

Unlike him, his Shadow wasn't native to his tongue. Despite this, however, Shadow had insisted they use his tongue to communicate. His language was less common than English. It meant they had more privacy, 3.29 times more to be precise, and as a bonus, their target also didn't speak it.

"Tu t'inquiètes trop. Je serai là si tu gâches. Maintenant préparez-vous, ça ne devrait pas être trop long maintenant."

("You worry too much. I'll be there if you mess up. Now get ready, it shouldn't be too long now.") Where was he now then? Why wasn't he by his side? Whispering flattery... advice... encouragement...like he'd always done. Telling him how stupid and pathetic he was, how he couldn't do anything, wouldn't be anything.

Apart of him wished he could tell him he was right... again.

"D-d'accord. Merci mon amie."

("O-ok. Thank you my friend.")

- - - - -

A hand waved in front of him, ending its journey with a flick on his nose. He blinked hard twice looking up and meeting the angry gaze. Ah right, he was still here.

“You’ve got one chance ‘Hoshi’. The truth or I can make a start on locking yar ass up for eternity so I can get some brain bleach and drink the rest of this fucking nightmare away.”

"..."

“Choice’s yar’s really, but ya should know a lot’a folks stepped forward to vouch for ya. It’d be a shame to reject their forgiveness ‘cause it ain’t often you make friends like ‘em who’re willing ta stick by your side no matter what.”

It took a moment for Hoshi to find the right words. He’d know his decision since he’d first awakened.

“Where would you like me to start?”

A weight placed its self upon his shoulder: a hand. It stayed for a moment, lifting and coming back down with a pat. The judge had a smile projected onto his face, it couldn’t have been his own. In all the time he’d know him, he’d never truly smiled (unless sarcastic of course). Maybe he was seeing things? After all his left eye was still tucked away under bandages, deemed too damaged to face the elements.

“That’s the spirit, boy.” No, the smile was real.

He let his eye drift upwards, meeting Justice's almost unnatural gaze. Too kind and gentle, too out of character. If anything, the uncanny expression on his face made him feel even more uncomfortable than the whole integration.

The weight removed it’s self completely,

“The begging. Include all the details ya can remember. We need ta know who we’re fuckin’ deal with cause whoever these folks are, they’ve already made it pretty fuckin’ obvious they mean business.”

“I-I...I am sorry.”

“I know.”

They remained in silence for a minute, nothing more could be said: The damage has been done. All they could do now was pick up the pieces and hope there was enough glue left to save the situation from shattering further.

“Let’s make a start kid, somehow I doubt this’ll be quick.” He flipped his pen around. It stood at attention, ready to follow his every command.

“O-ok.”

This is it, then: the true story.

It was so long ago, so many things had happened since then. Could he even remember how it started? How it happen? But then again, the better question was how much would he let himself remember? He’d tried so hard to bury it, pretend the illusion was real, fight back the pain, the tears, late at night when white lies clawed at him. Slowly digging themselves up from the shallow graves he’d hastily buried them in.

He preferred the illusion. It had a happy ending.

Was going to, at least...

Was heading that way before the events of one month ago.

The incident.

His ultimate failure.

His betrayal...

He smiled meekly, he...he was a terrible person. He knew that much was certin. No.

A mess, not a person. A mess of lies, illusions and shredded memories. That was a different story, however. Maybe he would get to tell that story one day too. But till then... this is the story of Hoshi, Sans.

His story.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Cover & Chapter 1 art

[TOSD] How Villians Sleep At Night by me

Justice Sans by Vangold

#justice #sans #undertale #undertaleau #hoshi #story #litrature #storywritting #waterfall #past #incident #6monthdeal #creatorandcreation #talesofstardust

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chicago-geniza · 2 years ago

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Ok! To do

Meds, inhalers, T ✅

Take out kitchen trash ✅

Wash face ✅

Read on the balcony for a bit - GO OUTSIDE

Draft email to V

Send email

Invoice 1

Invoice 2

Text S

Reply to Signal messages

Draft email to [redacted]

Send email

Draft email to roundtable group if someone hasn't already started thread

Send email

Outline shorter version of conference paper

Watch film Institute lecture on Dybbuk and Pan Tadeusz again, pull quotes, take notes

Make folder for PowerPoint images (screencaps)

Unpack antiquarian books, in part because you need the following:

Boy's quote on Tog un nakht; quote from book on silence & sound in film till '39 re: Dybbuk & Pan Twardowski; quote on what Ordyński allegedly said to Wyspiański about his work; Stef's rebuttal on Threepenny Opera re: the inappropriateness of placing Schiller & Ordyńdski in the same category; Wiadomości London survey where Stef says Wyspiański's Dziady is her earliest memory of the theater, a formative experience; Wallis on Grottger's second Warsaw cycle; catalogs from Grottger and Matejko exhibitions in the late 30s; Anna Pilch on Stef's uniqueness as a film critic - the question of form; Debora Vogel & Stef on Jewish art, Chagall, P&A; HURAGAN.

Conclusion can add new material: Dybbuk centennial, Wajda's Wyzwolenie-Dziady as "national martyrology" film that collapses the Powstanie into Auschwitz into Katyń, Zubrzycki's Resurrecting the Jew, AG's corresponding work on Ukr poets re: Babyn Yar and Holodomor, the work of nationalism, the absent figural Jew restored to "rightful place" in history / "the collective story we tell" about the past but safely in Israel in the present as a cornerstone of "progressive" European national narratives that position themselves over-against far-right ethnonationalism, how this is deceptively conservative, not...unlike certain expressions of Piłsudski-ite ideology positioned vis-a-vis Endecja

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jcmarchi · 11 months ago

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Weird Shift in Russian Tank Losses - Why the T-80 is Overtaking the T-72? - Technology Org

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/weird-shift-in-russian-tank-losses-why-the-t-80-is-overtaking-the-t-72-technology-org/

Weird Shift in Russian Tank Losses - Why the T-80 is Overtaking the T-72? - Technology Org

The T-72 is the main battle tank of Russia. Not just because pretty much every modern tank is categorized like that, but because it truly is the main. Russia has many other types of tanks, but this one seems to be the most important and most common one. That is why it is not surprising that the T-72 is dominating the lists of losses in Ukraine as well, but lately, another tank has been getting the attention of Ukrainian drones.

The T-80UK and the T-64BV in Ukrainian service. Image credit: 93rd “Kholodnyi Yar” Mechanized Brigade via Wikimedia (CC BY 4.0)

Since the beginning of the invasion, Russia has already lost 404 T-80BV tanks in Ukraine, according to the open-source intelligence site Oryx. This project only counts losses that can be confirmed through open sources and through visual data. This means that this is a conservative number, because not every destroyed tank is photographed and filmed so nicely.

Russian forces have already lost 624 T-80s of various modifications. Most of those tanks, as you’ve probably seen, are T-80BV, but Russia also lost 94 T-80Us and 96 T-80BVMs. Those are gigantic losses for Russian forces in Ukraine, even if they are still not close to T-72 stats.

According to Oryx, Russia lost at least 1191 T-72 tanks of various modifications in Ukraine. A large portion of them were actually captured, but, of course, most were destroyed.

In total, Russia already lost 2312 tanks in Ukraine and 1499 of them were destroyed. Ukraine captured 550 tanks and managed to turn them back around against the invading Russian forces.

Oryx notes that the number of T-80s that Russia is losing is increasing. Russia’s main tank is the T-72, so it’s strange that T-80 losses lately, in the short term, have been outpacing the T-72 losses.

The T-80 is basically the same-era tank in service since 1976. It is based on the T-94, but incorporates features from the T-72. Since these tanks functionally fulfill the same role, Russia chose to rely on the T-72, and mass production of the T-80 ended in 2001. Meanwhile, the T-72 is produced to this day.

Actually, lately, Russia has been talking about the renewal of the production of the T-80. It will not be easy to do, but with some time brand new standard T-80s could be rolling off production lines. The question is, of course, why the losses of the T-80 tank are so great lately.

It seems like the Russian forces are using them more, because the number of lost T-72s is so huge. Russia is gathering everything it has and pushes those reserves closer to the frontlines to try and hold the Ukrainian advance so that they wouldn’t achieve too much before the soil turns to mud.

The rumoured plans to restart the production of the T-80 main battle tank are also a reminder of the failure of the T-14 Armata project. The next-generation tank simply doesn’t exist in reality, despite Russian sources stating that it even served in Ukraine.

Written by Povilas M.

Sources: Focus.ua, Wikipedia

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thisspaceintentionallyleftblank · 3 years ago

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Try, Try Again (pt. 13)

(Cpt 1) | (Cpt 12) || (AO3)

Chapter 13 (2594 words)

A metallic claw latched itself solidly onto Emmet’s arm and, with a hydraulic hiss, lifted him into a bone-crunching hug.

The dull, leaden feeling in his limbs was quickly receding, but Emmet was still glad for the solid arms wrapped around him, unsure how well he would have been able to keep his numb, noodly legs underneath himself without them. With jerky motions, he looked around at his rescuers.

“Catastrophe? Nova?” He asked breathlessly, a dopey grin smeared across his face. They hadn’t parted on the best terms previously, but his earlier anger paled in comparison to the joy he felt seeing them now. “But how did you guys find me?”

“We saw the whole thing,” Nova explained. “Our glasstroid wasn’t too far from where your ship exploded.”

“KA-BOOM!” Catastrophe added very helpfully.

“But,” Emmet frowned, still swaying slightly in the Major’s grip. “I thought the Gemini couldn't fly?”

Nova’s face darkened. “O-oh, we um,” her voice petered out awkwardly, and her gaze fell sharply from Emmet’s face, as though she had suddenly become fascinated by the abstract shapes her boot traced in the dust. “S- Some parts of your ship landed near our crash site. We uh, we used them to repair the Gemini.”

Catastrophe’s grip shifted slightly, enough that they could face Emmet eye-to-eye. “WE ARE DEEPLY SORRY FOR TAKING YOUR PARTS, HAZMAT. ”

Emmet tried to laugh, but found himself wheezing instead, due the Major’s vise-like embrace. “I don’t think you guys need to apologize for saving my life.”

“No, it’s- ” Nova sighed, her boot pausing halfway through its current line. “We’re also sorry about before.”

“Oh,” Emmet breathed.

He could remember that night on the Gemini well, each moment of hurt and betrayal having been preserved in his mind clear as crystal. But now, try as he might, he couldn’t summon up any of those old emotions. Like paints dried in the bottle, they retained their shape, but not their function. He was simply too happy to be able to move and speak again, to be able to leave.

“We just got so excited about finally fixing the Gemini.” Nova continued, oblivious to Emmet’s thoughts. “We never really considered that you might not be excited too. But still… we should have asked.”

She looked up at him, stretching out a gloved hand. ”We’re sorry that we didn’t ask, and we’re sorry that we hurt you.”

Emmet took her hand in his own. Hearing the aliens’ intentions didn't technically change anything in the past, but it felt good to know that they hadn't meant to hurt him. He wriggled slightly, and with a gentle touch, pulled himself out of Catastrophe's arms, turning to face both of the aliens.

“I’m sorry too.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the pair jerked back in surprise.

“UH,” Catastrophe’s expression was hidden under his mask, but no doubt it was as contorted with confusion as Nova’s. “W-WHY?”

Emmet thought back to that night, to the empty way the aliens had stared at the dark broken engine, like a light had gone out of them as well.

“I was upset at you guys but… I didn’t have to break your stuff. I could have just taken the fuelcell back, or heard you guys out, but I… I felt hurt and I wanted to hurt you too. So, I’m sorry for that.”

Nova’s smile was small, but genuine. “Thanks Emmet,” she murmured.

“WE CAN ALL BE SORRY TOGETHER!” Catastrophe bellered enthusiastically. “SHARING IS INTEGRAL TO OUR ABILITY TO FUNCTION AS A TEAM AFTER ALL!”

“A team?” Emmet chuckled.

“Oh...” Nova paled. “Yeah, so um…. There might be a little bit of um...”

“AN IMMINENT WAR.” Catastrophe interjected eagerly.

Emmet’s laughter faltered awkwardly. “That’s funny... I could’ve sworn you just said ‘war’.”

“I DID!” The lights on the Major’s mask lit up, pleased with themself.

Dumbfounded, Emmet to Nova for clarification.

“It’s the Queen,” she explained. “We heard her on the comms once our ship turned back on. It…. We don't know why but there's a fleet of warships heading directly to Bricksb- er, Apocalypseburg, I mean."

“Okay…” Emmet strained to keep his voice level. “That’s probably not good...”

From the back of his mind, the remnants of his nightmare on the Gemini lurched forwards. The images of Apocalypseburg shattering replayed in a horrible loop, set to a soundtrack of Lucy's terrified scream.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. “What are we planning to do?”

Nova and Catastrophe exchanged a quick look. “We... we’re not sure."

"WE'RE CLOSER TO BRICKSBURG THAN THE FLEET IS," Catastrophe stated matter-of-factly. "SO WE COULD PROBABLY BEAT THEM THERE IF YOU WANT TO GO HOME."

Nova nodded. "Or," she added, "we could try to meet up with the fleet before they ever even get into range of the city.”

"OR WE COULD RUN AWAY, GET CONCEALING FACIAL HAIR, ADOPT NEW NAMES AND ACCENTS, AND BEGIN A NEW LIFE AS NON-TRADITIONAL COLLEGE STUDENTS."

This suggestion was met with a pair of blank stares.

"I'M NOT SAYING WE SHOULD, BUT IT IS TECHNICALLY AN OPTION."

Emmet groaned. Saving the world had been hard enough the first time, and now his Systarian friends' world hung in the balance too.

“Gosh," he muttered. "This sure is an important decision that I should definitely make right now, in order to avoid any potential ambiguity.”

“OF COURSE,” Catastrophe nodded solemnly. “SO, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?”

---

“WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?” Unikitty’s form shifted rapidly, her size and color fluctuating as her rage intensified.

“Guys, listen,” Lucy begged. She’d finally confessed to the others about letting Rex go, and needless to say, they weren’t taking the news well.

“We’ve been listening!” Batman groaned. “We listened the whole time you were saying ‘hey, I let the prisoner go!’”

“AGAIN.” Unikitty tacked on with a growl.

“I be starting t’ think we oughtn’t let Wyldstyle guard the brig anymore,” Metalbeard added, crossing four of his robotic arms in double the disappointment.

“Just let me explain,” she continued, trying to speak over their protests. “Rex is… he is Emmet. Just… just from some kind of awful alternate future.”

The others stared at her with concern, but Lucy could see understanding dawning in their eyes.

“Let me guess,” Batman started, “he’s from a future where some big-chinned, superpowered alien tried to wipe out half the universe in a weak attempt at a Hegelian tragedy?”

“No,” Unikitty interjected. “I bet it’s a future where scientists bred a new kind of super dinosaur that inevitably escaped and ate everyone in an elaborate allegory for the folly of man.”

“Mmm-mm,” Metalbeard hummed in disagreement. “He probably got trapped in the worst hell of them all - a career in government bureaucracy.”

“NO!” Lucy felt her face growing hot. “He’s from the future where… where he listened to me.” Ashamed, she sank to the floor, ducking her face into her lap and pulling her arms up to hide the hot tears that had started spilling out. The other Masterbuilders exchanged concerned looks.

“Wyldstyle,” Unikitty shrunk back down to her normal size. Her voice was much calmer now. “What do you mean?”

“He,” her voice caught in her throat, the sound threatening to become a full sob. “He got tougher. Like I’d told him to. And… and now he’s come back to protect Emmet from that fate. To protect him from us.” Now her voice did break. “To protect him from me.”

There was a moment of silence. Lucy struggled valiantly not to disturb it, to remain composed.

“Ugh,” Batman eventually broke the silence with a groan. “Morally complex villains are not really my thing. More of a Marvel trope to be honest.”

“So, what?” Unikitty ignored him. “We’re just not supposed to rescue Emmet?”

“I don’t know,” Lucy whispered. “I just… I never realized that I was hurting him, so like, how can I take that risk, knowing that I could hurt him this badly again?” She lifted her head from her hands slightly, but still couldn’t bring herself to meet their eyes. “Would we really be rescuing him, or just hurting him more?”

The three other Masterbuilders stepped forwards, each taking a seat on the ground near Lucy. Something about the presence of her friends eased the tension in her chest, making it just a bit easier for her to breathe.

“Do you really think the best possible future for Emmet is for all of us to just leave him all alone?” Unikitty asked, her face serious.

"Well no, but-”

“You can isolate yourself out of fear of being hurt, but the loneliness doesn’t hurt any less.” Batman added. “Uh, so I’ve heard... From my many friends.”

“He- He wouldn’t have to be alone!” Lucy stammered. “He could have better friends! He deserves better friends.”

“The ability to hurt others isn’t something that only bad people have.” Unikitty replied. “Absolutely everyone has the capacity to hurt the people they care about, even unintentionally.”

“Yar, indeed our actions have a tendency t' outrun or exceed the ends through which we attempt to govern them.” Metalbeard added, nodding sagely.

“Wuh-" Lucy couldn't help but stare at him blankly for a moment. "What?”

“Tis just the basic principle of impropriety. Ya know, the concept defined by philosopher Patchen Markell in order t' describe the fallacious idea that we have any kind of control over the consequences of our actions, much less their reception or interpretation by others."

Now the others stared too.

“Oh, so the pirate can’t know philosophy huh?” Metalbeard scoffed. “I have lotsa interests, ya know. I’m not some kinda bilge-ridden, one-dimensional, side character!" He huffed to himself grumpily, but remained firmly planted at Lucy's side.

"Wyldstyle," Unikitty began softly, "do you really think that Emmet would rather never talk to you again?"

Lucy shook her head. “But... I’m scared," she replied, her voice low and ashamed.

"I know it sucks to think that you can hurt your friends without meaning to, but that doesn't mean that you should stop being their friend. It just means that you need to try and pay closer attention to the things that they say, and the way that your words and actions affect them. It's hard work sometimes, but it's the right thing to do."

Unikitty rested a comforting paw against her friend's knee. "I think it's something that we've ALL been failing at recently," she finished.

Lucy looked up, meeting Unikitty's eyes and seeing the same shame reflected there. Glancing to the other two Masterbuilders, she could see that they also shared the same guilt, and the same conviction.

With a deep breath, Lucy rubbed her face dry and pulled herself to her feet.

"Emmet deserves better than how we’ve been treating him, but he also deserves better than being alone. You guys are right - we need to find him."

Her newfound determination was contagious, and the others leapt to their feet beside her.

"I want to do right by him," Lucy resolved. "No matter how many tries it tak-”

“UM GUYS?!”

General Mayhem burst into the room, completely out of breath. “Benny and I… huff… just got the long range scanners back online.”

For the first time in years, Lucy felt hope leap in her chest.

"Did you find Emmet?" Unikitty bounded towards the alien, stars literally glimmering in her eyes from excitement.

Mayhem grimaced. “Not exactly...” She fidgeted for a moment, trying to work out what to say, before giving up with a shrug. “It... it might just be easier to show you.”

The Masterbuilders nodded, and followed the General back towards her ship or, at least, what had originally been her ship. Repairing it was a much more difficult task now that her control device had been broken, and since they were starting from scratch anyways, she and Benny had decided to change the design in order to increase the occupancy load.

As the group entered the half-finished thing, they could see the blue spaceman tucked under a panel of bright blinking lights. He seemed to hear them enter, and pulled himself out in time to greet them. Mayhem strode over to the console and pressed a combination of controls. The screen flashed to life behind her, and glowing lines began to crawl across it, scrawling out a rough map.

"Okay," Mayhem gestured up towards the lower left corner of the screen. "This green spot here is Apocalypseburg. And this bit," her hand trailed up across the length of the screen, "is the Stairgate."

“And what are all those little red triangles coming out of the Stairgate?” Unikitty asked, reaching up to paw at the blinky lights.

"Um... well," Mayhem stammered.

“Oh!" Benny interjected. “That's the Systarian War Fleet!”

“Heck yeah.” Batman cracked his knuckles in anticipation of a fight.

“Heck NO.” Lucy replied, shooting him a quick glare before turning to look at Mayhem helplessly. “Why the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is there a WAR FLEET heading towards us?

“W-Well, remember when I said that Queen Whatevra might um, possibly, maybe retaliate for you guys um…. kidnapping me a little?"

“But!" Unikitty exclaimed. "We totally un-kidnapped you right after!"

"They don't know that!" Mayhem explained. "We've got the scanners back online, but the communication array is still in pieces. I haven't been able to send them any messages yet."

Lucy had a bad feeling about this. She stared at the ships on the map, burning the image into her retinas. The screen blinked, and they all moved about a pixel closer to the green splotch at the bottom.

“Mayhem,” she started, “if you aren't able to send a message before the fleet arrives, will… will it be…”

The General nodded grimly. “It could mean Ourmomaggedon.”

“How long will it take to fix?" Unikitty asked nervously.

“I don't know." Mayhem looked tired and close to tears. "I've always had my remote control, so I've never had to build the ship myself. Benny can help some, but apparently this technology is not his 'thing'."

Benny nodded. "Definitely produced after the 1980's."

Lucy cupped her chin in her palm, deep in thought. There was an idea growing in the back of her mind, but it would definitely be risky.

"Okay guys," she broke the tense silence, "hear me out."

"Oh no," Batman groaned. "How are you gonna one up ‘I let the evil Emmet clone go’ this time?"

“Sorry," Mayhem interjected. "What was that?"

"Uh, nevermind!" Lucy pressed past the question. "I have a plan!" She turned to the spaceman beside her. "Benny, how long would it take you to get this ship flying?"

He shrugged. “Probably not too long. I've already been building our rescue ship, so we could just pull the engine off of there. Why?”

“Um, could we go back to the part about letting the evil guy go?” Mayhem's question fell on deaf ears.

“I think we'll have to deliver this message ourselves.” Lucy finished. "We'll meet the war fleet head-on and try to explain everything."

“It be worth a shot!” Metalbeard agreed. "I'll be stayin' here though t' rally the crew. If you landlubbers get blown to tiny heroic smithereens, the rest of the city needn't be caught unawares."

Mayhem looked unsettled at the implication, but couldn't deny the possibility that the Systarians might shoot first and ask questions later.

“But what about Emmet?" Unikitty asked.

The other Masterbuilders fell silent. On the screen, the red ships moved another space forwards.

“Well,” Benny broke the silence. “He’s in space, we’re going to space... maybe we’ll just bump into him!”

Batman scoffed. “Right, like that will happen.”

#lego movie 2 #tlm2 #took me year to get back to this but by god Im gonna finish it #eventually.....

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thenewlittleprincess · 4 years ago

Text

El Amor D’Un Amigo - Princesita

-1-

The very tall, thin man, looking very much like the Princess, wearing his three-piece blue business suit with a red tie, comes into the Princess’ bedroom. The Princess is watching a video of another Pina Colada singer, Tina Mendes, about 9 years older than she, on the Large-Scale Computer Monitor. The LSCM throws images of Tina and her band into the room, stage, instruments and all, in three dimensions.

As Tina dances and sings in the middle of the bedroom, the Princess is dancing with her and singing Tina’s hit song, “Combustivel” with her. Like Tina, the title of the song is Brazilian Portuguese: but all the rest of the lyrics are Mexican Spanish, so the Princess has no trouble singing along.

Oh, me hiciste quemar los ojos

La primera vez que te vi

Mi corazón explotó – BOOM!

No me queda casi nada.

Combustivel! Combustivel! Tu amor es mi festivel . . .

Combustivel! Combustivel! Bienvenido a mi carnavel!

Having copied Tina’s Brazilian accent at the ending of the last two lines, the Princess throws in her own “WOW!” Then she plays air electric organ during the musical interlude.

The man turns off the computer. The Princess is shocked, her hands frozen in mid-air.

[All dialogue here are English subtitles of the original Spanish: in the case of the dad, the Spanish is dubbed over his English original speech but the subtitles are still there]

“Oh, Dad!” the Princess says, after she turns around.

Seeing him, she smiles.

“What’s it?” the Princess asks.

“You obviously didn’t notice I had come in,” the Princess’ dad says. “So I had to get your attention.”

“That you did!” the Princess says.

She sits down on the bed next to him.

“”Have you thought about your 9th birthday next week?” Dad says.

“Constantly,” says the Princess, rolling her eyes.

“Constantly? Really? Why?” Dad asks.

“Because I want to give something special to my friends, to show how much I love them,” the Princess says. “Just the piñata and cake and all that won’t cut the tamale, will it?”

“What do you want to give them?” Dad asks.

“Playa Blanca!” the Princess says.

Dad bursts into laughter.

“You can’t give anyone that beach!” Dad says. “One of the hotels in Livingston owns it. You can’t give away other people’s things! Would you like me to give your Grand Piano to one of my friends?”

“Kill ya, I would,” says the Princess, running her index finger across her neck.

“Well, then,” says Dad. “And it would cheat my friend, because I ‘gave’ him something he could never have. So, do you see why you can’t give anyone the beach? You’d just cheat all your friends.”

“Of course, I know they cannot take it home!” says the Princess with a smile. “But I can take all of them there and we’d have a special birthday party they’d always remember!”

“Ah, that’s what you’re on about!” says Dad. “Well, that’s a great deal more practical! I think we can manage that.”

“Really?” asks the Princess.

“Sure, anyone can go there who pays the entrance fee,” says Dad. “And there’s so much room, we can’t disturb anyone. I’ll tell Carlos to have a word with the beach owners.”

“I love you, Dad!” the Princess says, hugging him. “Now this is gonna be a birthday that’ll make me really happy to be nine!”

FADE OUT.

-2-

The Princess is sitting at a desk, reading a textbook and writing in her notebook, moving to the music from the earphones in her ears. A short, reddish-brown haired woman comes into the room around the front of the desk. She pulls one earphone out of the Princess’ ear and shouts “NO! NEVER!” into the ear.

The Princess takes the other earphone out and says, “Ee-ya, Mum! OK, I’ll lay up the earphones until I finish me homework, if it’s really not on!”

“’Tis not that: although that may be a wise decision on its own merits,” Mum says, in her thick Scottish brogue. “To take you and your list of friends to Livingston, hire hotel rooms, the whole lot, would cost over 300 of those new World Bank thingies . . . IT Units! It’s not gonna happen, lassie, not while we have to foot the bill!”

“But Mum,” the Princess says, breaking down into tears. “It’s . . .it’s me . . . birthday!”

“Aye and it is,” says Mum. “And if ya wanna have many more with happy returns, ya cannot spend us into penury for it! We Scots have been the poorest in Europe. Little stony soil in which to grow oats and cabbage. Only the sheep standing between wool coats and us freezing for the winter. We survived. Yar grandfather went down in the sooty black coal mine, underground 10 hours a day, for the overtime that put sugar in our tea. And ya know how we survived? Economy. We never spent a sixpence when a thruppence would do. And here ya want to spend the equivalent of something like 200 pound on a child’s birthday party? It borders on the obscene! I was over the moon at your age if Mum sneaked me a sixpence for a pack o’ Smarties for my birthday. I never saw a bloody cake, except in the baker’s window down in Stirling burgh! No way you’re taking a trip of nine-year-olds across the country just because it’s yar birthday! Don’t get me wrong: we’re happy you were born, more than about anything else in the world . . . But not that bloody happy!”

At that, Mum turns around and heads for the door.

She turns around when she hears her tearful Princess call “Mummy!”

“We’re not poor now. And they’ll . . . they’ll . . . never know how much I care for them,” says the Princess.

“Aye, we’re not poor. Nor am I lettin’ you get us there! And they’ll know how much you care,” Mum says. “By what ya do not by what ya spend.”

-3-

The Princess is sitting in her red 17th century party dress, with ruffled neck and sleeves, wearing her superreflective tiara, red flower behind her left ear and violet flower behind her right ear, red and green reflective sparkles on her face and eyelids, her hair in box braids in the front, on her bench at her Grand Piano. Her drawing room is full of little girls standing around the piano. Behind the piano is the Princess’ “army”: a guitarist, electric bass, percussion machine, bass and the “Three Angels” singing backup.

The Princess starts playing the introduction to “The Love Of A Friend”, from Princess Party. Then she starts singing the song in Spanish:

El amor d’un amigo

Vale más que el pisto

El amor d’un amigo

Es más dulce que la miel

No puedes conseguirlo de nadie más

En tu famili’ o de tu amante

Porqu’ el amor d’ un amigo es especial

Para ti de t’ amigo

Cuando todos los demás se han ido Todos tus amantes están enamorados de los demás ¿A quién tienes? Mira a tu alrededor, tienes a tus amigos

Un amigo no necesita tomar tu corazón

Un amigo sólo quiere ser el comienzo

Per’ un amigo llora cuando separado

Porque un amigo necesit’ un amigo

Es tan triste, tantas veces

Olvidamos de decir "Gracias"

Tan triste, tantas veces

Olvidamos de decir “Te quiero” A nuestros amigos Solamente amigos

Damos por sentado a nuestros amigos

Y las semillas de la tristeza se plantan Porque no hay nada com’ un amigo

El amor d’un amigo

Vale más que el pisto

El amor d’un amigo

Es más dulce que la miel

No puedes conseguirlo de nadie más

En tu famili’ o de tu amante

Porqu’ el amor d’ un amigo es unico

Para ti de t’ amigo

Porque son únicos, tan únicos tan únicos

Yeah, yeah, yeah tu es tan unico

A . . . mi

Woh Woh Woh Woh Woh Woh Woh Woh Woh!

#Spanish #original lyrics #original song #video script #thenewlittleprincess #2025 #love #friend

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