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kellyedith · 4 years ago

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She is so noble, so enthusiastic, and at the same time such a naive child, and in fact so like himself in character.

She is so noble, so enthusiastic, and at the same time such a naive child, and in fact so like himself in character. Yet, he tries. From my three hours’ conversation with Katya I carried away among other impressions the strange but positive conviction that she was still such a child that she had no idea of the inner significance of the relations of the sexes. All donations will directly help the refugees at the border.. Cersei sat as still as a stone statue as the shears clicked. However, using that as a statistic is misleading, since many people gave up their voice and their say zapatillas de tacos futbolin the election by not voting. One of Illyrio’s chests had been packed with a child’s clothing, musty but well made. Great Wolf would only say the facility would reopen next winter though city planning documents indicated the refurbishing of the complex was to be completed in November.. If you doubt me, ask Bronn. An event was recorded the first year

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and could easily devour a sheep a day. I talked warmly, convincingly. Thrice that day she caught sight of Drogon. Ser Clayton’s face cried out for an axe between the eyes. He had just been seeing the others off and had come to Natasha’s straight from the railway station. She would need underclothes too. There is an immense range of design and material options available. You can still see, kind of, but not well enough to use it practically.. Even that took a certain courage, though; he could never return to the isles. She was really sad when she couldn't play,"said Fairview senior Becca Thompson. Her main goal was to help her students succeed, and she was always there to offer special coaching. Still remembers the first sum he sent back to the Philippines, after a few weeks work in Dubai: $350, almost three months wages under his old rate. This election isn't about Republicans or Democrats. And for what? Jeyne, her name is Jeyne, and her eyes are the wrong color. Presently Mr. The team has recently inked several players to contracts for the 2013 season, including 7'4" center Moussa Seck of Senegal, recording artist TreVonn "Diego Trinidad" Campbell, and former Harlem Globetrotter Anthony Cox.. When Gerris made to pour himself a cup of wine, Quentyn stopped him. "It gives us the chance to present segments of our spring

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stevenuniversallyreviews · 6 years ago

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Episode 128: I Am My Mom

“Maybe you can help us out.”

Ten episodes ago, Steven witnessed Yellow and Blue Diamond hatch a plan to bring more humans to the Zoo. Ten episodes in the future, Steven and Connie will finally reconcile from the fallout of the actions he takes to stop that plan. Thirty episodes ago was the first half of a double-sized story where we got our first major hint that Rose was imperfect, ending in a fight over whether Steven and Rose are the same person. Thirty episodes in the future is the second part of a quadruple-sized story about how imperfection is okay, ending in a fight over whether Steven and Rose are the same person. So yeah, in case the name didn’t give it away, I Am My Mom is central to Steven’s identity arc.

I’d argue that the arc revolves around I Am My Mom even more than A Single Pale Rose, and not just because the latter comes so late to the game. As huge as the Pink Diamond reveal is for the series, this isn’t Rose’s story. It’s Steven’s, and his story is about finding peace with his identity and growing out of his martyr complex, so it hinges around an episode where he assumes his mother’s identity to save his friends at his own expense. Solving The Case of the Shattered Diamond is crucial, but when it comes to big Steven moments, nothing beats the sacrifice we’ve been building to since he lost his Rose-tinted view of the past.

We start with a bang, setting up the stakes in record time: it takes mere moments to recap that Homeworld is stealing Steven’s human friends, there’s no way to chase them if they leave the planet, and Steven isn’t taking it well. When asked whether Aquamarine and Topaz are important, Deedee Magno Hall gets an early knockout with Pearl’s “Uh, yes!”: it’s vintage Frantic Pearl, but just a little snobby as well, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world that these are dangerous foes. We already have a great first impression of the pair, but this line read amps up their reputation in a way only Garnet or Pearl could provide context for.

It’s quick, but I also love that we establish how Amethyst leads the charge on gathering information and getting things moving. After confirming that their ship is gone, she asks Steven about who the kidnappers were, asks Pearl about whether these Gems are big deals, and asks everyone why only Steven’s friends were taken. She’s even the one who asks Steven if Connie sent more photos during the search. These questions could’ve been divvied up among the Gems, but it’s Amethyst who’s sensible enough to pose all of them, subtly informing her thoughtfulness and understanding of Steven’s concerns when he’s too upset to step back and think the situation through.

Rather than draw out the search to fill the entire episode, we keep up this fast pace by veering right back to horror: the use of Connie’s ringtone from Alone Together is just a killer, taking one of the most joyful moments of the series and letting it echo throughout the empty boardwalk until it’s drowned out by Topaz’s heavy drone. And after more bratty intimidation, Aquamarine even gets the question of why Steven’s friends are targets out of the way, so we can spend the episode focusing on the aftermath instead of scratching our heads.

Planting the seeds of this story all the way back in Marble Madness is, as I said in that review ages ago, some Rowling-level plotting: it’s so long ago that we get an honest-to-god flashback instead of just explaining what happened, complete with Andross Peridot. This not only ties the plot together in a way that makes logical sense, but after a season of Steven stewing over his mother’s actions and their consequences, we now have a consequence of his own actions to stew over.

Yes, he’s somewhat culpable in Greg's kidnapping, in the sense that if they hadn’t gone to Korea they never would’ve met Blue Diamond. But it was still Greg’s decision to talk to her, and Blue Diamond’s decision to “rescue” him. He magnifies his own involvement until the only person he blames is himself, because guilt has become a cornerstone of his identity of late, but it’s clear to us that it’s not his fault. But this time is different. He and we barely need to do any work to connect his friends’ kidnapping to his actions, because he literally told Homeworld who they were.

There are obviously mitigating factors here as well, namely that there’s no way he could’ve anticipated that a casual listing of names would lead to Homeworld targeting those specific people in an eventual human hunt. There’s also the vast distance of time and maturity between the Steven of Act I, who knew virtually nothing about Homeworld, and the Steven of today. But that second point just makes the theme of the past catching up with the Crystal Gems all the stronger, because it’s not like Rose Quartz shattered Pink Diamond a week ago. It took a while, but the bill came due, and Steven doesn’t even need his guilt complex to pick up the check on this one. The episode keeps on rolling after Steven’s big reaction, as its explanation of Aquamarine’s confusion over “my dad” seems to be the major takeaway, but his shame isn’t going anywhere.

As a temporary salve for the escalating tension, the first fight of I Am My Mom is full of cartoony elements, like Garnet’s impact leaving a Garnet-shaped hole in the wall and Pearl being launched into a glint in the sky a la Team Rocket (I know it’s a common trope beyond Pokémon, but I doubt anything with the blasting off again twinkle touched mainstream America in the same way). It mirrors the similarly slapstick battle of fellow second-parter Ocean Gem, complete with the shift in seriousness as the fight continues. In the Lapis fight, this occurs when Steven and Connie are nearly drowned in bubbles of water, but Aquamarine and Topaz manage to top it.

Aquamarine is horrible from the start, smug and impatient as she merrily bullies everyone around her. Her cruel sarcasm sets her apart from villains like Jasper and Yellow Diamond: while all of them drip condescension, at least the latter two are earnest about it. She sees the fight as a game, toying with the Crystal Gems’ emotions as their human friends are put on the line and employing her all-powerful wand to embarrass instead of wrapping things up quickly. But as soon as she’s bored, she goes a step beyond and drags the show into uncharted territory.

Shattering has been on the table a few times before, but it’s shocking for a villain to threaten to murder Steven’s friends. Aquamarine dances around the subject in her own trolling way, but her intent is intensified when Topaz grabs Jamie—a source of comic relief in the series as a whole and during this episode—and squeezes his head. Slowly. Effortlessly. As he quietly begs for help.

The intimacy of this threat packs a far greater punch than Yellow Diamond’s desire for the entire planet to die for a few reasons. First, it’s easier to wrap our heads around a smaller horror than an incomprehensibly huge one: as the classic possible Stalin quote says, a single death is a tragedy but a million is a statistic. Second, Yellow Diamond is light-years away and is talking about what she wants, while Aquamarine and Topaz are right in front of our heroes and demonstrating what they’ll actually do. And third, while we can assume that this show would never allow Earth or Jamie to die, it’s at least more likely that a single character is killed off than the entire planet.

Aquamarine’s threat does so much for the show beyond establishing her as a significant villain. The stakes of the series, which were already pretty high, ratchet right up. The possibility of human characters dying is introduced, which puts us in the right headspace for Lars’s shocking death; even if he comes back, he still dies on camera. And it steels Steven’s resolve to protect his friends by any means necessary. He might have let himself and his friends all go to the Zoo with a plan to escape later if their safety was assured, but it’s not worth the risk to have anyone he loves anywhere near this maniac.

But even now, Aquamarine remains monstrously petty. Far from the hardcore loyalists like Peridot, Jasper, and Holly Blue Agate, she’s lazy and willing to do a poor job if it means ending her mission early. Her overconfidence allows her to be fooled into bringing Steven along, but his overconfidence allows him to get captured for real as he tries and fails to make his bubble from inside Topaz.

As with the battle, we get another easing of tension as Steven struggles to escape. Given the circumstances we might expect more drama as the Homeworld ship escapes with the humans still stuck, but Lars expresses his fury through little smacks to the face, and Jamie recovers from his tight squeeze by going Full Jamie, to the annoyance of Onion and Aquamarine alike. And when the bubble finally does work, it makes Topaz look ridiculous as she inflates like a balloon.

Both the fight and this interlude help push this episode from great to outstanding, because I Am My Mom is enough of a downer that it needs some levity to get us through it, but too much levity could undermine the tone. It’s a delicate balance when the situation is this grave, but despite two major opportunities to falter, the crew pulls through.

With freedom comes Steven finally verbalizing his guilt, not acknowledging Connie’s suggestion to fuse and instead muttering in despair as the ship takes off. As he puts up a shell that foreshadows his imminent sacrifice, we cut to Lars similarly isolating himself from Sadie; while Steven’s stoic determination is traditionally considered heroic and Lars’s instinct to run as cowardly, neither is healthy for their relationships with Connie and Sadie. Sadie isn’t even mad when Lars flees after seeming to steel himself up to save her, it’s just one more disappointment she has to swallow before biting Topaz’s finger and skedaddling with an assist from Connie.

I think it’s this, more than the events that follow, that hurts Connie the most. It’s bad enough that she’s left on Earth while Steven goes off to space again, but on the ship, when she’s fighting her heart out to help everyone, Steven has already given up. As mentioned in Are You My Dad, Stevonnie wouldn’t have done much against the sheer might of Aquamarine, but Connie and Steven don’t know this in the moment, meaning he’s willing to put himself in danger but doesn’t consider her as an option before making that call. It’s not an unfounded complaint that he doesn’t consider her a true equal, and he unfortunately reinforces this mindset with his dismissive attitude in Dewey Wins.

Steven briefly escapes his rambling funk when the door opens, and we get one last moment of humor when Onion performs a dive perfect enough to elicit a double take, but Aquamarine’s wand proves powerful enough to keep even Alexandrite at bay. And now, when all hope seems lost, Steven pulls his decisive gambit.

Steven has danced around identifying as Rose Quartz here and there, most notably in Joy Ride, where he tells the Cool Kids about Homeworld Gems thinking he’s his mom but adds “...and maybe I am?” to the end. But otherwise he firmly asserts himself as Steven when misnamed, even as he struggles with the sins of his mother’s past; Rocknaldo, of all episodes, reinforces that he knows he’s a different person at this stage of the show. So telling Aquamarine that he’s Rose isn’t a matter of him believing it, but deciding it doesn’t matter if it isn’t true, because he doesn’t matter if his friends are in danger.

The complicating factor is that his sacrifice is noble, and despite the protests of his friends, it is the best way to guarantee everyone else’s safety. So it’s hard to just say he does the wrong thing: Aquamarine presented a threat so great that fighting wasn’t an option, and has an attitude so toxic that talking wasn’t an option, so surrender is an understandable position to take. From this point of view, his baffled reaction to Connie’s later disapproval makes total sense.

But this is a show about working together, about love in all its forms and how it can overcome incredible odds. Steven refuses to put his friends in danger, but what if they all rose to the occasion at the Zoo, the way Lars does on Homeworld? Who’s to say that Steven as a uniter couldn’t bring the Boardies, the Zoomans, and the Famethyst together and stage a grand escape, leaving Earth fuller than it was when they left at the story’s end? Their safety wouldn’t be guaranteed, but at least it’s better odds for the group than Steven’s odds upon surrendering himself as Rose Quartz, and he doesn’t allow them the chance to prove themselves.

I don’t bring up this hypothetical because I wish it’s how the show went, even though it would’ve been great: Steven needs to fail to grow, and while it can be seen as a heroic deed, by sacrificing himself he fails himself. If he inherited one thing from his mother it’s the ability to inspire, and he can do it without her subterfuge, without even trying. He fails to value this ability, just as he fails to value his own safety, and his pathological selflessness wraps right back around to selfishness. It doesn’t matter if his absence makes his friends and family suffer, and it doesn’t matter that they have hidden depths that would allow them to work together and come home together, because by blaming himself for everything, Steven makes everything about Steven.

It’s a good thing to want to help people. And it’s easy to write a story about a self-centered soul becoming generous, because it’s a clear arc from Bad Trait to Good Trait. But it’s hard to write a story, especially a story for kids, that teaches the value of tempering helpfulness with self-respect, about setting boundaries and not taking the world’s problems on your shoulders alone. At a glance, Steven is doing what a hero does, but this is a show whose boy hero has the powerset of a support unit, a show that devotes two whole songs to the explicit lesson that strength isn’t about muscles. It challenges the norms of stories kids are told over and over again, and with luck, it might change some minds about the value of Stoic Loner Badasses over forging healthy relationships.

In Ocean Gem, Steven saves the ocean by talking to Lapis Lazuli in his own Steven-y way. In Gem Drill, he saves the world by talking to the Cluster in his own Steven-y way. And in I Am My Mom, he saves his friends by talking to Aquamarine, but through the same language of lies that his mother was fluent in, and this tainted methodology leads to a tainted victory. Steven Universe isn’t Rose Quartz, and I Am My Mom thrives by showing why he shouldn’t be.

Future Vision!

This is perhaps the harshest instance of Pearl’s inability to reveal what actually happened to Pink Diamond. It’s always tough to watch her cover her mouth post-Single Pale Rose, but this is the moment where the truth might matter the most in terms of immediate consequences.

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?

A nice, quiet image for a cacophonous finale. But I would’ve loved to see Aquamarine as a greaser or a goth or something, considering she’s already in uniform.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

It’s low for being such a downer, in the same way The Good Lars struggles to reach higher in my top list, but even if I rarely rewatch I Am My Mom, it’s hard to deny its greatness.

Top Twenty-Five

Steven and the Stevens

Hit the Diamond

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Last One Out of Beach City

The Return

Jailbreak

The Answer

Mindful Education

Sworn to the Sword

Rose’s Scabbard

Earthlings

Mr. Greg

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Beach City Drift

Winter Forecast

Bismuth

Steven’s Dream

When It Rains

The Good Lars

Catch and Release

Chille Tid

I Am My Mom

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

Warp Tour

The Test

Future Vision

On the Run

Maximum Capacity

Marble Madness

Political Power

Full Disclosure

Joy Ride

Keeping It Together

We Need to Talk

Cry for Help

Keystone Motel

Back to the Barn

Steven’s Birthday

It Could’ve Been Great

Message Received

Log Date 7 15 2

Same Old World

The New Lars

Monster Reunion

Alone at Sea

Crack the Whip

Beta

Back to the Moon

Kindergarten Kid

Buddy’s Book

Gem Harvest

Three Gems and a Baby

That Will Be All

The New Crystal Gems

Storm in the Room

Room for Ruby

Lion 4: Alternate Ending

Doug Out

Are You My Dad?

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

The Message

Open Book

Story for Steven

Shirt Club

Love Letters

Reformed

Rising Tides, Crashing Tides

Onion Friend

Historical Friction

Friend Ship

Nightmare Hospital

Too Far

Barn Mates

Steven Floats

Drop Beat Dad

Too Short to Ride

Restaurant Wars

Kiki’s Pizza Delivery Service

Greg the Babysitter

Gem Hunt

Steven vs. Amethyst

Bubbled

Adventures in Light Distortion

Gem Heist

The Zoo

Rocknaldo

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

Say Uncle

Super Watermelon Island

Gem Drill

Know Your Fusion

Future Boy Zoltron

Tiger Philanthropist

No Thanks!

6. Horror Club 5. Fusion Cuisine 4. House Guest 3. Onion Gang 2. Sadie’s Song 1. Island Adventure

#i am my mom #steven universe #su #steven universally #review

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upsettlspaghettl · 5 years ago

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Empire City Con 2019

I can say with confidence that this has been the best weekend of my life. People will be so quick to say that the Steven Universe fandom is one of the most toxic fandoms out there, but in all my years of going to conventions, this has been the most welcoming and friendly by far. Now, this could be because it’s a convention based on one singular fandom, as opposed to the mishmash of fandoms that gather at other conventions, but even Bronycon was nowhere near this level of welcoming. Then again, I only got the chance to go to 2 Bronycons so I don’t know if I can say much.

The flight to North Carolina was surprisingly not that bad. I’m very prone to getting lost, but I left 4 hours in advance and I didn’t even need those 4 hours. But this was my first time ever flying somewhere completely alone.

I got the chance to meet Deedee Magno Hall, who signed my Guide to the Crystal Gems. Now it’s my goal to get all the character pages signed. But it’s got all the fusions of season 1, so chances are I won’t ever get the chance to get Sugilite’s page signed. Oh well, a fan can dream, right? Just kind of a bummer because she happens to be my favorite fusion.

She also validated my OC ship with Yellow Pearl which was super cool of her. Deedee is a really sweet person. While waiting in line to meet her I made friends with a kid, and he was fanboying like crazy. Later on we met somebody else, and we all did karaoke together. Then they got to do a group Karaoke with Deedee, which I was unfortunately too nervous to join. She said she would try do one with me but we never got the chance, but either way I’m so grateful. She’s a really kind person and I hope I can meet her again!

My part in the karaoke was still really fun though. Me and my 2 friends were having a hard time figuring out what song to do, and since the instrumentals were live, the people playing only had a limited number of songs they could play. Eventually we agreed on Stronger than you. But the instrumental team couldn’t play that one, so one of my new friends asked everybody to sing along and be inclusive. I got to to do the Peridot rap onstage too! Only me and 1 other person in the audience did that though so it was really scary and I fumbled a lot... but I’m still so happy that I got to because it was just such a good time for everybody.

There was actually a garnet cosplayer who’s act was right before ours and they were still by the karaoke lineup, so one of my friends asked them to come join us. Toward the middle of our act, this same friend spotted a Jasper in the front row, dragged them up on stage, and we had an adorable fake fight scene. I had to hop off stage right before the song ended to hug somebody in the front row who was crying. I was relieved to hear that they were tears of joy. In the end, they invited my group to sit in the front row with them.

Right, and Garnet’s act! They actually sang the original SU opening in German which was super amazing. Toward the end, there was a Pearl cosplayer in her Mr. Greg tuxedo who sang It’s Over isn’t it with Deedee, and a Yellow Pearl cosplayer who did an amazing Yellow Pearl-y take on Do it for her. So yeah the variety of acts was fantastic and the whole thing was just so feel-good all around.

At the very end of the karaoke, after everyone had gotten a chance and we were all just hanging out in the karaoke room, I was given a Spinel promo pin by a Mystery Girl. Not literally a Mystery Girl cosplayer, but somebody who I thought was just... well, somebody. They mentioned having extras from the movie screening in CA, and were handing them out to Spinel cosplayers. Of course I was hopping up and down being super thankful to an awkward degree, like I normally do.

That night, I told my roommates what happened, and they told me just who that Mystery Girl was. None other than Mackenzie Atwood, creator of the Pearl’s Secret Rap Career series. My facial recognition is terrible, so I didn’t realize at the time. I was lucky enough to run into her again the next morning during breakfast in the hotel lobby, so I got to thank her personally in the end.

Speaking of Mystery Girls, there actually was a Mystery Girl cosplayer who was especially awesome. Not even ten minutes after arriving at the convention, I see 2 Spinels who welcome me into their Spinel group. A Mystery Girl cosplayer is with them, and they hand me a pair of shoe squeakers. They look like tiny clear whoopie cushions, and Mystery Girl was handing them out to all the Spinels. I don’t know about everybody else, but mine drew a lot of attention from other con-goers because I was super happy and energetic at this con so I ran everywhere I went. People were always laughing and it made me so happy that I was able to make people smile. I’ll definitely be using them again in my future Spinel cosplays.

One of the people I shared a hotel room with was a Spinel cosplayer on the first day, and they were carrying an amazing Spinel plushie that I remember seeing a photo of on Deviantart, and later showed up for sale on Etsy. It was super expensive and I remember wanting it, but I couldn’t be jealous because I know I was super lucky to even see the thing in real life!

On the second day, I met a sweet little girl who seemed to think I was the real Spinel. She drew me a picture of Baby Spinel, and I gave her my drawing of Baby Spinel which I’d made earlier that day in the quiet room. Later on, one of the convention organizers was holding a game session, and this kid crushed me in a round of Gem Gem Clod... which is Duck Duck Goose, but better. Note to self: playing games that involve running when wearing pink high heeled boots probably isn’t gonna go well!

After some games, we made some meep morps. Somebody started a trend of drawing Lion on the little canvases we were given, but my Lion wasn’t coming out quite right, so after I finished drawing his head I just. put it on one single leg. You’ve heard of Leg Pearl, now get ready for Leg Lion. I was super happy about that too because I made everybody laugh.

Once we ran out of canvases, the organizer offered to take polaroids of some of us, so now me and this adorable little kid had matching photos, which we put in tiny pink frames and put a Spinel gem on each.

oh also! the game organizer had a tattoo on their leg of a bunch of anime characters, mainly the cute “squad mascot” archetype. There was Hawk, Happy, a few other characters, and Keroro! I totally freaked out over Keroro because it’s a relatively obscure series, and it was the first show that really got me into anime! I’ve always loved things like Pokemon and Naruto, but Keroro Gunso was my gateway to the anime community as a whole.

At around noon, I spent a little more time in the room where the games were held, which had some board games of its own, books, and art supplies and overall functioned as just a room to hang out in. There I met a Pink Diamond cosplayer in a pink schoolgirl uniform and an Uravity hat (really cute outfit!), and a goth Spinel cosplayer. The Pink Diamond cosplayer was a great artist and drew a really cute magical girl Steven. These 2 people also taught me what a vsco girl was when they were joking about the fact that Pink Diamond would totally be one. I was super confused but it was really funny after they explained it.

There was a cosplay fashion show much later in the day and I made friends with a Ruby and Sapphire while sitting in line. They were a couple irl and went on stage together and they were adorable! They were also both Hazbin Hotel and Harry Potter fans, so we had a lot to talk about. We kept talking while we waited in line for the Sadie Killer and the Suspects concert too, and a few other people joined us. I’d only just met these people but I really felt surrounded by friends.

Earlier in the day, while I was waiting in line to meet Kinetic Cosplay, I ran into an amazing Sour Cream and Buck Dewey. I got their photo, only to later see them on stage as a part of the real life Sadie Killer and the Suspects. Jenny Pizza was also on stage, but I didn’t see her before that.

While the convention was great, something also happened that scared the hell out of me. At NYCC just last month, I bought some very tiny stickers, one of which was Froppy from BHNA. When I got home and unpacked, it was gone. I thought maybe it fell into the fabric of my backpack, and if it did, there was really no way to retrieve it unless it decided to fall out again. However at the convention... I was at the registration table, decorating my con badge. I pick up my phone, and suddenly the Froppy sticker falls out of nowhere. It looked like it came from the phone, but I can’t imagine where it would have fit and gotten stuck. It kinda just fell out of the void. Either way I’m glad to have it back.

Lets see... I also got some pictures of the real life Mr. Universe van... and later on I ran into the owner of the van in full Mr. Universe gear.

The Garnet cosplayer was Cotton Candy garnet on the second day and I still can’t get over how sweet and nice they were.

There were some family cosplays. On the first day I saw a Yellowtail carrying a baby doll dressed as Onion, and then on the second day the same person was with a Vidalia cosplayer, and an actual child dressed as Onion.

There were also a pair of parents dressed as Connie’s mom and dad, and their kid dressed as Connie.

On the first day there was a Mr. Smiley which was super cool and unexpected, and then on the second day they were Bismuth. There were actually 3 Bismuths in total at the con which was surprising because that wig looks super difficult to make. Anyone who can pull that off is amazing!

The last day only went on until about noon, but my flight didn’t leave until the next day. I didn’t book my hotel room for that night because I wanted extra time in case I got lost on the way to the airport. Turned out there were free shuttles. I ended up in the same shuttle as that Pink Diamond cosplayer and her dad, and she showed me this adorable RPG game app called Wholesome Cats. We took some snapchats together and now I know what I’d look like as a boy...

Since there was a shuttle to the airport, that meant I was super early for my flight. Super early as in, almost 12 hours early. After going through security, I was planning to just sleep at the gate, but my gate number wasn’t on the screen. So I asked an airport employee, and he told me that I wasn’t even supposed to be let through security until the next day, which was when my gate number was supposed to show up... whoops. It wasn’t so bad though, either way I’d just be hanging out at the airport for the night. I decided not to sleep though, just in case. It felt weird late at night, when the airport was more or less completely empty. It was so nice and quiet, and the Starbucks was still open so I had a super yummy dinner of pumpkin bread and cheese danishes.

I think that’s about it? If you wanna see pictures, I’ll be posting them all to a public album on Gnomie Leviton on Facebook, and I’ll also select a special few to post on QueenGnomie on Instagram.

If you add me on FB please tell me your url! I only add people who I've talked to before.

In conclusion!

This was by far my favorite convention I’ve ever been to, because you could literally just go up to someone, start talking, and you’d immediately have an awesome new friend. I’ve never been to a con before where every single person was so approachable. It really felt like everybody there was one big family. I already have a potential roommate for next year, so I really hope to get back on my feet soon so I can go!

#i dont wanna play anymore (MUN POSTS)#long post #hazbin hotel tw #harry potter tw #bhna tw

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thedarkivist · 6 years ago

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you owe no one your forgiveness. + ship of choice

Marianne and Mary watched each other over the table, silent. Neither of them seemed in a hurry to start, though Mary would be the first one to speak up. As per usual. Mary’s lips parted slowly and Marianne could already feel the little good mood she brought with herself trickling away.

The door to Lupin’s Grotto opened and Lady Lazarus entered. Marianne’s jaw dropped. She did text her to come as if she were to bury Skald, but she didn’t expect…

… this.

Lady Lazarus paused in the door and although Marianne didn’t want to stare, she couldn’t help it. Anyway, she wasn’t the only one.

The hero’s eyes were covered by her mask and she wore her hair up in a loose chignon. She was wearing a sinuous slip of wine-red velvet with a long slit on the side and black stilettos with the highest heels Marianne had ever seen. After a second she noticed the two heroes sitting at the table and made her way to them, the garnet chandelier earrings catching every stray ray of light as she walked.

Lady Lazarus slid into the third seat with a smile, and brushed a wayward strand of hair away from her mask. Marianne’s mouth ran dry. She averted her eyes and quickly took a sip of her drink.

“Am I late?” Lady L asked, leaning over the table. “My apologies - I ran into a villain and it always takes ages before the police show up.”

Mary cleared her throat. Marianne wasn’t sure if she wasn’t just projecting, but it seemed her cheeks were a little less flushed ten seconds earlier. “Lady Lazarus. Oh.”

“Were you expecting someone else?” the pain trade hero asked softly.

“No! No.” Mary took a deep breath and seemed to regain her composure. “I just wasn’t expecting Marianne would want to keep in touch with you.”

Marianne was about to say something, but then Lady L laughed. That would be the first time she heard her laugh like that. A low, delighted laugh, as if she were onto a joke nobody else would understand. She leaned forward, all her attention on Mary. Marianne wasn’t sure what game she was playing there, but she was winning it. “I’m so very glad to see you again, Skald.”

Mary hastily opened the menu and started reading through it as if she didn’t have it memorised already. “We should order,” she announced in a strangled voice.

A pause. “Fair enough,” Lady L responded, tilting her head towards Marianne. The healer caught a faint trace of jasmine perfume and began to deeply regret the dress code she suggested. “Marianne, sweetheart, what would you recommend? I haven’t been here before.”

At the moment, Mither was considering ordering a bowl of plain ice to bury her head in, but that might inspire some questions she’d rather leave unanswered.

“Everything here is delicious,” she replied in the end, opening her own menu. Lady Lazarus followed suit, but then peered over her shoulder. The scent of jasmine grew more intense.

“Oh look, they have shepherd’s pie. I love that.”

Mary looked up, pointedly ignoring the pain trade hero. “Speaking of shepherds, I visited Reginald a while ago.”

Marianne perked up at that. “True, I almost forgot. How did it go? I take it Amaryllis was there?”

“I don’t know about Sidero. Or Regi. Allard wouldn’t let me in.”

Lady Lazarus glanced up from the menu. “Sidero?”

Mary sneered. “Mallory Sidero, though he prefers to go by Amaryllis these days. Like it’s going to fool anyone. Like he’s going to fool anyone.”

When the words passed through Skald’s lips, Marianne realised with startling clarity that she had no idea what Lady L might do. Amaryllis was her friend, after all. Marianne learnt in the hospital that her raid partner had the strangest collection of friends, if the continuous stream of visits was anything to go by. The raid mission came to mind. The bodies convulsing in pain. The neutral line of Lady L’s lips amidst all that destruction.

The woman in red nodded to herself, but left Mary’s jab without a comment. Marianne let out a sigh of relief.

The waiter showed up and they could finally order - steak for Mither, shepherd’s pie for Lady Lazarus (please, do hold the garlic), and lobster for Skald. And, of course, wine. Marianne couldn’t shake off the nagging feeling she’d like something much stronger than that.

By the time their food arrived, Mary and Marianne slipped into the comfortable familiarity of idle chitchat between sips of wine, the third woman silent, taking in the atmosphere of the place. Then again, Skald was in no hurry to include her in the conversation.

“Do you have any news about Regi?” Mary asked, toying with the edge of her neckline. She wore a lovely navy A-line dress with some sort of a baroque pattern done in silver, and matching silver shoes. Marianne glanced at Lady L. Too bad Skald’s outfit was the fashion equivalent of bringing a knife to a gunfight.

“Regi? No,” she sighed. “We’re not really in touch ever since he started hanging out with Allard.”

“Ugh, I know, right? That guy is crazy. Regi has been weird ever since they met.” She paused. “I think that was around the time he cheated on me with Sidero. Who knows what ideas Allard has been feeding him.”

Lady Lazarus, quiet up until then, tilted her head to the side. “It’s Adaire. Lucien Adaire.”

Marianne shot the pain trade hero a worried glance. She came to understand Lady Lazarus was friends with Allard, Regi and Lucien. She surely wouldn’t let Mary talk about them like that.

“Mallory Sidero,” Mary repeated. “You know, the guy my boyfriend is wasting his time with.”

“Your ex-boyfriend,” the brunette pointed out mildly.

Skald turned a shade of red that rivalled her hair.

She leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “I don’t care how Sidero manipulated him into thinking he wants him. I’m not mad at Reginald, I really am not. I forgave him already, but he will have to see the truth, if I have to-”

Lady L raised her hand. Her fingers were slightly curling into themselves. Human hands or talons? Marianne blinked. Human hands, of course. Human hands.

For a split second an emotion she had never seen on Mary before flashed across her face. Fear. Pure primal terror. That kind of horror that lingers on the wrong side of the mirror just before dawn.

“The truth is that… you don’t owe anyone your forgiveness.”

A sharp inhale. Mary saw her fear blurred and reflected in Lady Lazarus’ mask, saw the pain trade hero’s serene, polite smile.

“What do you know, anyway?” she barked, cringing at how squeaky her voice came out.

“The truth is that you are the one who should beg for forgiveness. The truth is that you don’t love Renegade, but you loved the fact that he’d do all you’d ask - demand, really - of him. The truth is that you’ve been apart for years and you’re the only one who hasn’t moved on. The truth is, dear, that you like taking things that aren’t yours but can’t stand it when someone takes something from you. The truth is, Regi and Lucien got together only well after you two split up.”

Skald forgot all about the food. She had asked around about the hero. The mask, too. Nobody knew what she was hiding, but the rumours said that there was only void underneath, dark and inconsolable like the emptiness between stars. Another rumour said that whoever would look into her eyes directly would die of fright. Mary shook her head. She wasn’t some kind of a foreseer. She was a human, like anyone else. She couldn’t know anything.

“I don’t know if you’ve been listening to Allard, but he probably has an agenda of his own. Isn’t it strange that he was there with Regi at the time of their accident and walked away unscathed while Regi was badly hurt?” Lady L froze on the spot and Mary couldn’t but grin. Not quite so scary anymore, huh. “He probably just wants to swipe some of his inventions and pass them off as his own before Regi quits support design.”

Marianne reached for her wineglass. The situation was getting out of the hand and yet… she wasn’t in a hurry to interfere.

“If it was up to you, he’d have quit years ago.”

Marianne spat out the wine.

Lady L handed her a napkin, Mary being too busy trying to stare the pain trade hero down. The fact that she could see her agitated face reflected in the opalescent surface of the mask made it… difficult.

The dark-haired woman continued, unruffled. “Of course, the support items he made were convenient for you - including those you took without asking - but if only he didn’t spend so much time… you know… actually working on his craft. Regarding Étienne Allard, I wouldn’t worry about him. There’s a reason why he’s on the top of his field… and your ex.”

“Wait- what?!”

“You didn’t know? They’ve been lovers ever since you suggested an open relationship.”

“Allard slept with Regi?”

A shrug. “I mean, who didn’t.”

Skald stood up abruptly, knocking over her glass. Red wine splattered all over the pristine tablecloth. She couldn’t see Lady L’s eyes, but she would swear that that… that slut was rolling them at her. “You better shut your whore mouth right now-”

Marianne’s grip on the steak knife tightened, then loosened again when Lady Lazarus laughed, leaning back in her seat. “If you really insist on making a scene, you could at least try to make it an interesting one.”

“I don’t care what a freak with a cursed Quirk has to say,” she hissed.

Marianne rose up, her vision clouded with red. “You’d do well to remember my little sister has a Quirk like that too.”

That caught Mary off-guard. “I… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s different with Tanith.”

The healing heroine could almost choke on her anger. “Really? How so?”

Skald looked down at Lady Lazarus. “Tanith doesn’t delight in being a monster.”

“Nor do I. It’s just that I do it extremely well.” She stood up as well, her red dress glistening against her bone-white skin in the candlelight like freshly spilled blood. The talons - hands, Marianne reminded herself, normal hands with normal human fingers - reached up, running along the edges of her mask.

Marianne’s breath got stuck in her throat. Mary turned pale. Lady Lazarus brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing one of the clasps holding the mask in place.

“The truth is, you don’t want me to do this.”

Her hands dropped again. A single drop of icy cold sweat travelled down Mary’s spine. As if her body had a will of its own, she collapsed back on the chair, while Lady L flagged down a waiter to pay for her dinner. She sat down again and offered Skald a pleasant smile. “I just love Elspie cooking.”

Marianne took a deep breath. Mary shot her a curious glance, as if she just now remembered she had been there too.

“You know what? I think I’m done here.” Marianne turned to the pain trade hero, offering her a hand. “Let’s get some dessert. I know a place.”

#Anonymous #sfw #the AU of Class

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neraawritesxx · 7 years ago

Text

Garnet

Written for MultiSaku Month - Day 4

pairing: sasori x sakura prompt: soulmate au where you are colorblind to a specific color until you meet your soulmate genre: light angst // unrequited feelings // drama word count: 1,685

summary: “Deep down inside, don’t you want to be like me?” No. No, she did not want to be like him. She would never be like him.

a/n: I have no idea where this came from, but I am all about the angst right now and this pairing seemed perfect for it. This story is unbeta’d so any mistakes are my own. I hope you all enjoy!

Since the day Sakura Haruno was born, she cannot see the color red.

And it’s a pity, really, because despite being able to wear her family crest in any variation of shade, Ino insists that she compliment the Haruno emblem with red because absolutely nothing else would match her bottle green eyes and bubblegum pink hair.

So, Sakura puts all of the trust that her little ten-year-old body could muster into her best friend and they go to the store together, sifting through the clothing racks, pulling out different tunics and blouses that are nothing but boring, dull shades of gray in Sakura’s eyes.

But, it will work out in the end because eventually, she will meet her soulmate and as soon as she looks them in the eye, all the varying shades of crimson, red, and garnet will bleed back into her life, and it’ll be just perfect.

Because that’s what soulmates are: perfect.

And everything will be right in the world, just like in those stories that her mother tells her about.

…Right?

-o-

They learn about the history of soulmates in the academy.

Iruka-sensei shares with them a vague history of it all; too many adages about humanity and hubris. About how mankind was always too selfish for their own good and the greed that had festered over the years could have been the potential cause of it all.

The absurd thing is, not a single one of those proverbs or sayings could accurately describe why it happened or where it began. Did the gods craft this for them? Was this a punishment? A gift?

No one had the correct answers. Whatever is written in scrolls and textbooks over the last century are assumptions and attempts at categorization. They can only learn from the past and what is going on in the present, what happens in the here and now, and write their own version of the events in journals in hopes that it might help others in the future.

There are a few things that they do know for sure:

It is possible for one to never to find their soulmate.

If one soulmate dies, the other is not necessarily subject to the same fate.

And, it is different for everyone; how soulmates are discovered, found, and chosen. More often than not, it depends on the region that one is born into.

In Konoha, they are color blind to a specific hue.

In Iwagakure, they feel their soulmate’s pain, sometimes sharing the same scars of past missions and battles.

In Suna, there is a black spot marring the skin where their soulmate is supposed to touch them for the first time. After the initial contact, it fades back into their bodies as if it were never there in the first place.

When their introductory lessons are over, Sakura can’t help but feel a little relieved.

She doesn’t think that she would particularly like a physical mark maiming her skin or some ambiguous words etched into her arm that may or may not lead her to the person she would spend the rest of her life with.

She may be biased more towards her village for obvious reasons, but overall, she doesn’t mind being blind to shades of red because there will be no doubt when the time comes.

When those new colors dance into her vision, Sakura will know precisely who her soulmate is, and they can be together without any misgivings or uncertainties.

-o-

Over the years, things change. People, places, and settings. They all change.

Long gone were the academy days and her dreaming of the infinitely perfect meet-cute with her soulmate.

It’s not to say that Sakura hates the idea of soulmates. That’s the exact opposite, actually. She cares a little too much, and there are far too many instances throughout her childhood in which she had been so bitterly envious of those around her who found their soulmates easily.

TenTen and Neji have been together for years, even before the academy, and for Naruto, all it took was one quick look at the stuttering Hinata before his screeching of, “I finally know what color the sky is! Dattebayo!” was heard around the village.

She knew that people felt sorry for her – mostly her parents and Ino – and that was because, with the more time that passed, Sakura became increasingly aware that her soulmate was most likely not a member of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Though one’s soulmate didn’t necessarily have to be a member of the same village, it’s a commonality that occurs more often than not, and she can’t help but feel horribly cheated by the discovery.

Sakura puts a lot of time into becoming a strong shinobi after that. With Naruto’s departure for further training and Sasuke’s defection, it was time for her to put silly dreams aside and work on becoming stronger.

Though she tells herself she’s putting all of her time into drills, lessons, and hospital work to be able to hold her own – to show Naruto and Kakashi that she deserves to be a member of Team Seven, to bring Sasuke home – there is always that traitorous little voice in the back of her mind which whispers to her late at night.

It tells her that the stronger she becomes, the more missions she can take, and the further she can go.

And, maybe, just maybe, she can find her soulmate along the way.

-o-

She doesn’t sleep much over the course of those two and a half years.

If anyone asked, Sakura blamed it on her rigorous tutelage under Lady Tsunade and not on the gnawing loneliness that ached in her chest.

-o-

When Naruto comes home, things get easier.

Sakura breathes easier.

And though the desire to find her soulmate still weighs heavily on her shoulders, Sakura still has her friends, family, and her team.

Things just feel so overwhelmingly right when they complete that bell test for the second time that, if only just for a moment, Sakura believes even if she were to never meet her soulmate, she’ll turn out just fine.

-o-

It isn’t long after, that Gaara goes missing.

What starts off as a day filled with her reprimanding Naruto because he couldn’t and wouldn’t pick a mission for their team due to his stubbornness and desire for a sense of danger, turns into them running through the dry, arid Suna desert with such desperation that it’s almost painful.

And this…

This.

In a country that is not her own, amongst enemies that are trying to capture and kill a friend, is where she finds her soulmate.

Sakura doesn’t realize it at first, because when she and Lady Chiyo force themselves through walls made of rock and stone, he is hidden inside a puppet.

But after, when she smashes that same puppet down to splinters and slivers of wood, he emerges with nothing but a cold, cruel smirk on his face and contempt in those gray eyes.

Her world shifts on its axis.

Lady Chiyo is taken aback by the fact that he looks as if he hasn’t aged more than a day since she last saw him.

And Sakura…

Sakura is lost in the vivacity of his short, mousy red hair.

-o-

Sasori has no outward reaction to her and Sakura later finds out that is because he no longer has a human body.

“My heart is just like this body,” he tells them.

Emotionless. Cold. Hollow.

If Sakura felt embittered in her younger years, it’s nothing in comparison to the spitefulness she feels now. It is not fair. The chance of having a real relationship with her soulmate is stolen out from underneath her feet without her even realizing it.

Fleetingly, she wonders where his soulmark was on his original body. Just where had the black spot been that announced him as her own?

She doesn’t have time to ask, to divulge further into the madness that is Sasori of the Red Sand.

There is a fight to win and a Kazekage to save, and Sakura is nothing but a conundrum of animosity, resentment, and unhinged loathing.

She fights and defends and bleeds – has blood always been that dark? – and Sakura gives all that she has to give to keep herself and Lady Chiyo alive.

She can’t tell him; she won’t tell him because this was the path he chose. He is no longer human, and though she would like to believe that Sasori is capable of redemption, Sakura knows better than to let herself think that he wants to be redeemed.

“I’ve killed hundreds of people,” he sneers when they have him trapped, his core impaled. “She would be no different from the rest.”

And Sakura believes him, but she isn’t scared of him. Not like this.

“Deep down inside, don’t you want to be like me?”

No.

No, she did not want to be like him. She would never be like him.

-o-

As Sakura watches the last remnants of life drain from his emotionless eyes, a part of her dies along with him.

And silently, she weeps for herself, for Sasori, and for the injustice of it all.

But mostly, she just cries because she was never given the chance to get to know him.

-o-

Over the next few years, there are a few select people that she tells.

Her parents hold her close, worried for what is to become of their daughter.

Naruto and Kakashi both give her pitying glances, but they do not change their attitudes with the knowledge. They will always be her surrogate family and they silently vow to never leave her side.

And Ino...

Sakura and Ino huddle together late one night and just cry. Earth shattering sobs and broken, pain filled wails that leave them feeling empty, but content when they are finished.

Sakura will be alright.

She will pull through.

-o-

In hindsight, Sakura really should thank Ino for forcing her to go shopping all those years ago.

The blonde had been right.

Red became Sakura’s absolute favorite color.

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its-ness-ness · 7 years ago

Text

Final Fantasy Games in One Timeline: Some Thoughts

Hi, my name’s Nessa, I have no social life, and I’ve been working on the above theory for going on two years now. I’ve seen some theories on some Final Fantasy games taking place in similar timelines, and a few even being on the same timeline. BUT if you’re interested in an attempt at squashing all of the mainstream games into just one (1) timeline, some handwritten folklore, and too many characters to keep track of, then come on in. These are the bare basics for now, because I haven’t gone in-depth with all of the games yet, and this is the first time I’ve put this theory out there. I openly welcome any critiques and comments you may throw my way!

If you’re interested, here’s what I’ve thrown together:

IN GENERAL:

Though this is one cohesive timeline, I don’t have any exact dates to put on things. Whether it’s one hundred or ten years between games, I believe, depends on how far you’re willing to suspend your disbelief. (I mean, look at our own advances from the 1920s to the 1950s - completely different fashion, atmospheres, and developments.) That being said, this timeline does rely on the fact that the games would be close enough together to have their stories, ideas, and lessons passed on to the next game. How long that takes, though, is up to you.

For everyone following along at home, we’re going to go in this order -

1 / 5 / 3 / 2 / 4 / 9 / 12 / 6 / 15 / 13 / 10 / 7 / 8

Let’s start, then, beginning with:

FINAL FANTASY I (1):

How could we start this timeline with anything else? Of course, this game exists in our timeline here as more of a legend and creation myth than anything real. This is the basis for our world, whether it really happened or not, and in some parts of this world, I like to believe that the unnamed Warriors of Light may have even been worshipped as god-like figures.

V (5)

5 is, at least for me, where this timeline really starts. From what I gathered, 5 has more open space, uninhabited, and quite a bit of monster and nature-made ruin. Only the barest civilization would allow for this. The clothing and atmosphere both stay strictly fantasy, and as a result there isn’t much actual technology in the world yet. The job class system reflects a world relying on people and their natural skills; a place just beginning. Thus, this is where our world starts out.

III (3)

Like 5 before it, 3 holds a lot of the same fantasy elements, but we start experimenting with great technology and use of magic. The world has become a touch less wild, so to speak, and those rural fantasy elements have grown into patches of true civilization here and there. These people have seen evil defeated once before, and they’re stronger because of it.

II (2)

Our fantasy world has developed corruption, folks, and these comfortable palace landscapes now foster a rebellion. We’re starting to armor up our characters with more than just a tunic and a dream, and Firion and his friends have past heroes to look up to and inspire hope from. We see more refined magic use and more airships and metal works in this game. The kingdoms established have had time to prosper, and those in the rebellion have had time to form a secret coalition together against the Emperor. (It should be noted that these first three games I know much less than those to follow, and may be swapped around in later drafts. For now, though, I feel like these fit nicely where they stand currently.)

IV (4)

We’ve hit advanced-fantasy in terms of aesthetic with this one. 4 holds much more tech than its predecessors, and we have boats, ships, and gliders. The crystals worshipped in past games’ lore still remain important to the story. Communication has advanced as well, and we see the first beginnings of other races - most notably, the Lunarians and the Gnomes underground. Those separate civilizations have had time to prosper over the past 3 games, and are now joining the narrative. This game uses advanced magic, and mages and summoners have been able to let their own cities prosper as well. We see more and more kingdoms and larger towns popping up than in previous games, and the world is doing well.

IX (9)

More steampunk technology is entering the picture now. While we remain high-fantasy, airship use has peaked, along with other daily mechanisms. The summoners from the last game are the same civilization that produced Garnet and Eiko, and the Lunarians from 4 are the ones who, upon going to sleep, built Garland to create their vessels - and, therefore, Kuja and Zidane. More animal species are developing in this game, as seen in most cities, and though the kingdoms are much, much larger than in 4, there are still parts of the world left untouched. Something about this fantasy still feels very rustic in comparison to the technology that will come later in this timeline, but most of what 9 presents feels very new in its own world. They have reached their peak development at their present state, and are still producing more and more. Magic use has disappeared from the public and become exclusive to summoners and the mages made by Kuja.

XII (12)

We’ve continued along the steampunk technology route, but we’ve gotten a little more urban now. Kingdoms are crowded enough to show the slums and underground cities that are a part of them now. We continue seeing different animal races in the present day, though they are less common and don’t receive the same rights and privileges as humans do, due to the royalty growing distinctly corrupt. Major magic use is no longer possible, though some simple spells are known exclusively on the battlefield. It’s not impossible to imagine that the royalty may in fact crack down on magicks sellers, in the way that witches were burned at the stake in our own time. Vayne, possibly loosely related to Alexandrian royalty, has the genetic potential to become a summoner, the power lost to most people in this time as the summoners are all but extinct. After the undoubtedly bad rep they gained by Kuja’s destructive magic use, they vanished into the separate world of the summons as a matter of safety. It’s this knowledge that he is so close to doing so and yet cannot that drives him near-mad with want in his drive for power.

VI (6)

High fantasy has now become cyberpunk, everyone. Technology went through the rough since the last game’s plot, and while we still feel very fantasy, we’re also starting to see more of that urban development in the kingdom areas. Magic is used only by the government and military (see: Celes and Terra both have good hands in magic versus the rest of the party), and summoners and their summons exist on the separate plane Terra comes from. Street rats and everyday people are the heroes of this installment, as in the last one, and the not-so-reformed royalty from last game have dipped more into forbidden science and forcibly enslaving soldiers. (That’ll come more into play later.) Vaan and Balthier partner up and initially form The Returners, which develops over time from sky pirate gang to resistance coalition. For one of the first times, we see a villain rise from a regular citizen who gained true god-like powers that the people of this world had never touched before. True destruction is tasted for the first time, but this is quickly remedied when things are set right.

XV (15)

Technology has developed and become more up-to-date here. Royalty still exists, but everything has become more smooth, refined, and modern. Upon Terra’s death, she sent a handful of summons to guard the world in her absence, thus creating the presence of the Six main summons in-game. She would go on to pass her secrets to one select person, an Oracle, who would hand that knowledge down over time and possess the secret to harnessing those summons, should the world ever need it. Hey, corrupt military government, good to see you’re still around, too. (That won’t go away for a while, trust me.) Magic use is still held only by royalty and the military here, and not in public life.

XIII (13)

After the death of the party from 15, Gareth Dysley enters the picture as a corrupt minister. The PSIICOM and Sanctum Guards are created, and the world develops from there. Technology gets more futuristic than ever before. We see government corruption taken to the highest degree. Fal’cie are mistaken for familiars of the original Six summons, and that’s why the public trusts them so much. (Here’s where things get a little strange, because I still have to revisit 13 and wrap my head around the events here. FOR NOW, the world we’ve been living on this entire timeline is Cocoon. Pulse is a separate planet in orbit that becomes victimized, rather than moving everyone from world one to another artificial planet. This may be subject to change.)

X (10)

That whole the-government-lies thing sticks around to this fantasy. Zanarkand is the first city created by Cocoon citizens on Pulse, but is quickly destroyed by the emergence of Sin, a bitter creation by the dying Fal’cie (the false, artificial summons, if you will) in an attempt to exact revenge, and still produce the death count desired in 13 to see their initial Maker. The true summons, those present from the beginning and granted to the Oracle by Terra, still exist in the other plane of summons, and wait to be called upon by summoners. These summoners are trained by the church of Yevon in order to seemingly destroy Sin, though they themselves do not know the answer to its defeat. Since this game consists of civilization starting anew, we see less of the destroyed technology, and instead a fresh, mystical fantasy story as we begin again on Pulse, rather than the timeline on Cocoon above. When the pillar breaks and Cocoon finally crashes into Pulse, the Calm Lands are created.

VII (7)

The world re-adopts technology after the fall of Yevon, and advances much more quickly than they had before. They already have the tools and power available, and refine that now that people are allowed to develop. We spring into a second urban fantasy, which flourishes after the Shinra corporation develops a way to tap into the Farplane (now called the Lifestream, as harnessing it has put it in motion versus its stagnant state before.) For protection, SOLDIER is created based on renewed ideals of the Magitek Knights in 6, though the recklessly-tapping-into-science thing comes back to bite them in the ass. This game’s small, sleepy cities are the first rustic results of villages coming back together after the events of 10.

VIII (8)

Science has now gone through the roof. Esthar is the hub of futuristic science and technology, and the evidence of that is everywhere. Modern cars and trains are back, and magic use is allowed by SeeD students in a draw system (a more accessible update to the materia system used prior). Summons are technologically copied to allow all students access to their powers, though what happened to the origin of these powers is currently unknown. The cost of this copying system was that the summons (GFs) needed a way to root themselves to existence - thus tampering with student’s memories in an effort to plant themselves there. SeeD is a revamped SOLDIER program, and many towns in this game bear resemblances to towns in the last game. Time and space are now on the forefront of technology, and magic has taken a step back (in terms of relevance) in comparison. The heroes here pave the way for a brighter future, as this world advances, learns more, and betters itself.

And those are the basics!

I have plenty more revolving around the above timeline - how it’s connected, who goes where and does what, and the way that things develop. Should anyone be interested in more, I’d be more than happy to elaborate!

#final fantasy #final fantasy series #ff series #nessa says things #game theories #final fantasy theories #final fantasy headcanons #final fantasy discourse #ff theories #final fantasy timeline #ff timeline project

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aliceofthevalley · 5 years ago

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Human 4

4.The Freakout

"What do you mean you're leaving?" I couldn't believe any of this.

"Honestly Sawyer you're acting like a child." Avery continued packing, avoiding my gaze. I gripped his upper arm, I had to stop him before he hurt himself.

"Let go." He flung my hand off the second it touched him, leaving me scrutinizing.

"What is your deal, first you don't talk to me, then the team, and now you're leaving us. What gives?"

"Nothing, mind your own business, geez." My heart was stabbed with hurt, but I continued.

"No, talk to me, please!"

"Sawyer- " he warned over his shoulder as he grabbed his bag heading towards the door. I followed vigilantly.

"Please, I want to help. Just talk to me." We walked ten steps before he turned on his heels to face me.

"Look I don't wanna talk about it. I don't want you helping me, I'm leaving. That's the end of it. As far as you're concerned, we never met and that kiss never happened, so stop trying to butt into my personal life." He was inches away from my face, everything about him screamed ice in that moment. The way he said it, the bluntness of my position now in his life, or lack thereof. I was in utter awe and shock as the floor started swirling beneath me.

"I…uh…" he turned back, leaving me alone to stand in the hall holding back tears. He was just about to turn the corner and leave when I did the unthinkable.

"Why can't you just trust me for once, or anyone for that matter? What did we do to warrant this from you. It's like you're a different person now! I miss you, we miss you, let us help you." I was on verge of tears grasping the wall for support.

"Why?" He said over his shoulder.

"Why?" I gasped.

"Because I love you and I can't watch you go walking to your death alone." I lost it, salty rivers began flowing silently down my face.

"I guess you're disappointed now, huh." Avery turned leaving a cold emptiness in his wake. Everything froze, my brain trying to process it all before it fully hit me. Wave after wave of pain, anxiety and depression lapped at my body, crushing my heart, each beat weaker as realization took it over. I couldn't take it and my legs crumbled under me finally. Monstrous sobs found their way to my throat and into the air, bouncing around the ship, like Avery's final words to me. I curled up into a ball, sobbing until darkness overtook my senses, leaving alone but in peace, a death like sleep.

…………….

I woke up to the sound of faint ship engines running, my face planted on the cold metal floor. There weren't any voices I could make out nearby, so I didn't put effort in trying to get up, just laying there perfectly still. How could this happen, he tossed me aside like nothing. I expected that from my friends and family back home, but never Avery. He made me feel inspired, like I was worth something. Guess not. Tears welled up as I began to regain full consciousness. I hated crying, hated the way it made me feel isolated and weak. In the distance, heavy footsteps slowly approached where I was, probably Azmi and Ridge about 75 yards away from where I laid; I could practically hear the obnoxious green hair from here. I jumped up quickly rushing to a nearby bedroom suite, careful to avoid detection. I quietly shut the door behind me; something starting to rumble at my core, rising toward my heart. Cover your mouth, don't make a sound. A few minutes past before Azmi and Ridge came into listening range.

"Where could she be. It's not like her to miss training."

"Azmi, we've known her for, like, a month."

"Yeah, but in that month, she's consistently gone to practice. Not to mention dinner, and an earth movie she specifically wanted to watch was scheduled to play in the media room tonight." They paused walking, a mere few feet from where I was.

"Look, Sawyer checked in after coming back with Avery, right?" A new, stronger wave of pain rolled over me at the mention of Avery. I barely could subdue the cry tearing my throat and regain composure.

"She's here, probably in her room."

"But her room -" she tried objecting.

"Kid, she's fine; gone exploring to clear her head for awhile." The subject dropped, and with it their conversation. Their footsteps traveling once again. I waited in silence trying to swallow back my feelings, until I couldn't contain it anymore. I pressed my back against the door before falling into a slump and cried. How could he, how could he?

Was it me? Yes that's it, I always had a knack for screwing up relationships. But how, how? Everything was fine until today. No it wasn't, it couldn't have been me, I tried helping but he wouldn't listen. Why didn't he listen? You weren't a part of this fight, he is. You weren't worth knowing anyway.

Voices swam around and around, arguing, so much arguing. Hands to my ears I tried shutting them off, but they just grew louder, making me want to scream. I didn't want to know who did what and whose fault this mess is, I wanted to just feel. The voices hushed before speaking. Then why don't you. Do it. Do it. Do it. Grabbing a pillow from the nearby bed, stuffing it into my face, I screamed, hard and painful. Anger, depression, suffering all coursed through my veins, making me unstable. I got up, blinded by the moment and walked over to the far side of the room where picture frames, seashells, and antique glass bottles sat collecting dust on a beautifully furnished wood shelf. I snatched a blue bottle. Break it; Break it; Break it. Destroy everything, let it all burn to cold ashes.

I threw it against the door, shattering into a shower of broken shards. The adrenaline from it persuaded me to grab another, this time a picture, of what I can't say as salty tears distorted it in the time I had before smashing it among the glass. Item after item, I threw at the ground, until I didn't have anymore emotional strength, reverting back to a wailing mess kneeling on the ground.

Why was I acting like this? All this for a boy I've only known for a couple weeks, this isn't Twilight.

No, but he did make me feel important, no one else has even put effort into doing something like that for me. And yet he left me here, alone in space far from my home- although, planet is more fitting- back to feeling used.

"Sawyer…" a quiet voice interrupted my deprecating thoughts.

"Seil- I…" I turned towards the door, wiping away my shame and slapping on a fake smile. Seil frowned before looking around the tetanus inducing floor I created, stepping over the broken pieces. She wore a long sleeved, floor length dress that dragged glass with it.

"Its 11 pm, you should go to your quarters now, Sawyer.”

"Of course, I’ll get right on that." Before I could leave, she trapped me in a bear hug.

"Should, but won't; I can practically hear the adrenaline in your system. " I tentatively hugged back, her arms tensed and eyes avoiding mine.

"I'm sorry about Avery." I pulled her closer. There was a long pause before she added.

"Don't worry about the mess, I'll clean it up before morning." Seil pulled out, holding me at arms length. At this distance, I fully took in how human she was, more than anyone on this ship.

"Now go get changed, if you're anything like Avery, you'll probably want to head to the combat gym. I'll make sure no one goes looking for you until you calm down." Something happened. Her movement was ridged and choppy, a slight tremor through her body had formed since I last saw her. I didn't know what but something happened to her, I could feel it in my gut. As she began to sweep a path for me outside, I blurted out

"Stop hiding it."

"What?"

"Whatever you're keeping from telling me, stop hiding it. Something went down while I was out, and I need to know." Seil bit her lip, staring at her scuffed shoes nervously.

"It-it's nothing. Nothing happened since you 'went missing', I'm-im just, uh, shocked by your…behavior." It was a blatant lie, but I let it slide since she was helping me. I tiptoed out the door, following Seil down the hall to the deserted athletic facilities.

"I…thanks."

"It'll be our little secret. Now go get dressed."

……………...

The punching bag swayed again after the hundredth hit i dealt. It still amazed me how effortlessly I felt training, yet weird to be able to in the first place.

In, out, breathe.

Sweat beaded on my skin, a welcoming distraction from life for once. I stepped back, smoothing back my hair from my face. Hours had passed, it was probably breakfast time judging from my sore muscles and aching knuckles underneath the thin boxing gloves I was using.

In, out.

Trudging to a nearby bench, I peeled back the gloves revealing a small white bone painted in splashes of garnet, peeking out of my right pointer finger. A couple weeks had jaded me; wearing only a slight frown before pulling off the left and throwing them apathetically to the gym floor. I made my way to the locker room, opening the doors cautiously with my shoulder. Placing my injured hand in the complementary first aid medical bot, I grimaced as my finger was manhandled; the broken bone shoved back into place, fused back together, then the skin stitched and sprayed with antiseptic, all in a matter of seconds using technology I couldn't comprehend nor had time to even care about it. I stripped, dumping my disgusting, sweaty clothes into the laundry shoot and stepping into a nearby shower. Warm water embraced my back as i stood motionless. How long had it been... 4, 5 weeks since I last took an antidepressant? Dang, no wonder life sucks. I tilted my head back swishing my hair around and applying shampoo, followed by conditioner and then shaving. Life felt meaningless and empty. Not just because of Avery, though it didn't help, but the fact I was trillions of light years from Earth. I missed my family, my real family- the one that wasn't hunting me down and trying to kill me. I missed my old life. And Oreos! I teared up at the thought of never having Oreos again; never mind dying , I'll never get to have Oreos again. I smirked to myself.

However, it faded quickly as emptiness came flooding back in, bringing memories of the dead with it; People I killed yesterday. How had I been fine up until now, doing that, murdering members of families and friends in less than an afternoon. How many died because of my actions? Deep down I knew I'd probably killed more than yesterday's blood bath, more innocent souls in heartless slaughter. And I think I enjoyed doing it. I had the skills, backed by the story Ameia told me, and yesterday as testament to that. My heartbeat became more and more painful, recognizable as it rammed itself into my ribcage. I rested my forehead against the tiled shower wall closing my eyes. Breathe. Yesterday was an accident, I didn't mean to kill them, I tried to save them; there wasn't anything I could've done. But those before… we can't change the past, especially not one I can't remember fully. Hot tears brimmed my eyes as guilt ate into me. I was shaking violently to the point of stopping the shower entirely and forcing me into the fetal position on the soaking floor. Three separate occasions of crying in the last 24 hours, how wonderful. I fill my lungs; in, out, in, out, pull yourself together Sawyer, geez. Deep breaths, come on.

Push, pull, push, pull, push, pull, push, pull.

Minutes of trying to battle a guilty conscious, successful. I shakily stood up, grabbing a clean towel and leave in conditioner from my locker. As clean as I felt physically, nothing could cleanse my soul. I dried my body and put the leave in conditioner in my hair; how long was it now? I turned my head towards a mirror, I made a startling discovery seeing a cascading head of milky white almost to my elbows, a stark contrast to the dark brown bob it had been hours before.

"Huh?" I marched closer, and on further inspection, realized my new arctic blue eyes.

"Great now I'm Hitler's fever dream reanimated." It changed. My whole entire body changed in a matter of minutes for some weird trivial reason. I mean the proportions are still the same, but…

"Nope. I'm done with this bull. I'm done. Just done. Nope."

I turned away from the mirror and began to break into all the girls lockers using a paperclip I found in my gym bag. It wasn't until I got to Azmi's, that I successfully found the compressed version of a professional hair salon fully stocked. Rows upon rows of scissors, curlers, flat irons and hair dye ornamented the locker, a kaleidoscope of colors and bottles. I grab a couple of gray, blue, and purple boxes and set to work.

…………….

"'Morning guys." Everyone looked up from their meals, their eyes instantly widening.

"Uh, Sawyer…what's with the uh…"

"Yeah, you look…" Ridge and Teauz continued to try and overcome their initial surprise, failing spectacularly in the process. Azmi, however had zero trouble with it.

"Did you use my hair dye?" She screeched, rising from her seat. Her eyes flared with metaphorical fire, not even trying to sugarcoat her disgust with me.

"No, Azmi, I magically changed hair colors while I was gone and forgot to tell you. Oops." Not a complete lie, but still misleading to a degree. She rolled her eyes and folded her arms superiorly.

"Don't take that tone with me, you spoiled brat. We were searching for you all night, and this is how you repay me- us?" She stumbled, the narcissist. She tsked at me like a disappointed mother with sickening seaweed hair.

"Either way, next time you're going to dye your hair, at least make it look professional; honestly you have a tie-dyed t-shirt for hair right now. You're a princess, aren't you, at least have some dignity." She sat back down and scoffed, preceding to treat me like a little fly. I could tell the guys were uncomfortable with how I appeared as well as the confrontation. Probably thought I'd gone crazy, since I kinda disappeared the entire day. Whatever, I'd rather deal with the notion that I've lost it because of Avery than being a hate symbol. Seil entered the dining room from the kitchen carrying a plate of pancakes with a yellow soup, and a cup of tea when she met my eyes. I caught a flicker of relief pass over her.

"Miss Sawyer, good morning. I took the liberty of preparing some food I thought you would like since you didn't request anything." She smiled brightly as I grabbed a chair and sat down away from the others. I avoided their glances while Seil placed my food in front of me and left. Silence accompanied the song of chewing, cutting, and slurping, which lasted for a good half hour.

"So, what's the plan for today?" I pushed away my now clean plate and straightened myself.

"Uh, yeah, right the plan and stuff." Teauz painfully tried to focus again, fidgeting with his fingers. Ridge managed to say, "We're circling around a nearby moon: there's been sightings of military forces patrolling around this solar system. Once we're sure it's safe to leave, we will." They avoided eye contact while picking at their food.

"Oh…'kay. Should I go get dressed for combat or…"

"No!" They panicked, spilling a cup of silver fluid in the floor. Azmi rolled her eyes and summoned Seil before pouting some more.

"I-I mean, no need to today, we're staying on board." Teauz fidgeted more, casting a glance at Ridge, who wore a slightly muffled, deadpan expression.

"Uh, alright…" Standing up, I turned to leave.

"Wait where are you going?"

"My room, why?" Teauz stopped fidgeting trying to think of an excuse.

"Because…" There was a long pause.

"Look, I get you're worried about me, especially after last night; but you need to chill. I'm not running away, or hijacking the ship, or even sulking; I'm just going to my room to work on some stuff." He nodded, before sitting back down slowly along with Ridge. I made it out of the room before they could say anything else.

…………….

The smell of old paper and bound leather was intoxicating. Walls of books stood mountainous before me, lined with knowledge. Since everyone was on the upper decks, I took it upon myself to unlock the secret library no one seemed to want to talk about with me.

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readbookywooks · 8 years ago

Text

Eddard

Eddard Stark rode through the towering bronze doors of the Red Keep sore, tired, hungry, and irritable. He was still ahorse, dreaming of a long hot soak, a roast fowl, and a featherbed, when the king's steward told him that Grand Maester Pycelle had convened an urgent meeting of the small council. The honor of the Hand's presence was requested as soon as it was convenient. "It will be convenient on the morrow," Ned snapped as he dismounted. The steward bowed very low. "I shall give the councillors your regrets, my lord." "No, damn it," Ned said. It would not do to offend the council before he had even begun. "I will see them. Pray give me a few moments to change into something more presentable." "Yes, my lord," the steward said. "We have given you Lord Arryn's former chambers in the Tower of the Hand, if it please you. I shall have your things taken there." "My thanks," Ned said as he ripped off his riding gloves and tucked them into his belt. The rest of his household was coming through the gate behind him. Ned saw Vayon Poole, his own steward, and called out. "It seems the council has urgent need of me. See that my daughters find their bedchambers, and tell Jory to keep them there. Arya is not to go exploring." Poole bowed. Ned turned back to the royal steward. "My wagons are still straggling through the city. I shall need appropriate garments." "It will be my great pleasure," the steward said. And so Ned had come striding into the council chambers, bone-tired and dressed in borrowed clothing, to find four members of the small council waiting for him. The chamber was richly furnished. Myrish carpets covered the floor instead of rushes, and in one corner a hundred fabulous beasts cavorted in bright paints on a carved screen from the Summer Isles. The walls were hung with tapestries from Norvos and Qohor and Lys, and a pair of Valyrian sphinxes flanked the door, eyes of polished garnet smoldering in black marble faces. The councillor Ned liked least, the eunuch Varys, accosted him the moment he entered. "Lord Stark, I was grievous sad to hear about your troubles on the kingsroad. We have all been visiting the sept to light candles for Prince Joffrey. I pray for his recovery." His hand left powder stains on Ned's sleeve, and he smelled as foul and sweet as flowers on a grave. "Your gods have heard you," Ned replied, cool yet polite. "The prince grows stronger every day." He disentangled himself from the eunuch's grip and crossed the room to where Lord Renly stood by the screen, talking quietly with a short man who could only be Littlefinger. Renly had been a boy of eight when Robert won the throne, but he had grown into a man so like his brother that Ned found it disconcerting. Whenever he saw him, it was as if the years had slipped away and Robert stood before him, fresh from his victory on the Trident. "I see you have arrived safely, Lord Stark," Renly said. "And you as well," Ned replied. "You must forgive me, but sometimes you look the very image of your brother Robert." "A poor copy," Renly said with a shrug. "Though much better dressed," Littlefinger quipped. "Lord Renly spends more on clothing than half the ladies of the court." It was true enough. Lord Renly was in dark green velvet, with a dozen golden stags embroidered on his doublet. A cloth-of-gold half cape was draped casually across one shoulder, fastened with an emerald brooch. "There are worse crimes," Renly said with a laugh. "The way you dress, for one." Littlefinger ignored the jibe. He eyed Ned with a smile on his lips that bordered on insolence. "I have hoped to meet you for some years, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me to you." "She has," Ned replied with a chill in his voice. The sly arrogance of the comment rankled him. "I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well." Renly Baratheon laughed. Varys shuffled over to listen. "Rather too well," Littlefinger said. "I still carry a token of his esteem. Did Brandon speak of me too?" "Often, and with some heat," Ned said, hoping that would end it. He had no patience with this game they played, this dueling with words. "I should have thought that heat ill suits you Starks," Littlefinger said. "Here in the south, they say you are all made of ice, and melt when you ride below the Neck." "I do not plan on melting soon, Lord Baelish. You may count on it." Ned moved to the council table and said, "Maester Pycelle, I trust you are well." The Grand Maester smiled gently from his tall chair at the foot of the table. "Well enough for a man of my years, my lord," he replied, "yet I do tire easily, I fear." Wispy strands of white hair fringed the broad bald dome of his forehead above a kindly face. His maester's collar was no simple metal choker such as Luwin wore, but two dozen heavy chains wound together into a ponderous metal necklace that covered him from throat to breast. The links were forged of every metal known to man: black iron and red gold, bright copper and dull lead, steel and tin and pale silver, brass and bronze and platinum. Garnets and amethysts and black pearls adorned the metalwork, and here and there an emerald or ruby. "Perhaps we might begin soon," the Grand Maester said, hands knitting together atop his broad stomach. "I fear I shall fall asleep if we wait much longer." "As you will." The king's seat sat empty at the head of the table, the crowned stag of Baratheon embroidered in gold thread on its pillows. Ned took the chair beside it, as the right hand of his king. "My lords," he said formally, "I am sorry to have kept you waiting." "You are the King's Hand," Varys said. "We serve at your pleasure, Lord Stark." As the others took their accustomed seats, it struck Eddard Stark forcefully that he did not belong here, in this room, with these men. He remembered what Robert had told him in the crypts below Winterfell. I am surrounded by flatterers and fools, the king had insisted. Ned looked down the council table and wondered which were the flatterers and which the fools. He thought he knew already. "We are but five," he pointed out. "Lord Stannis took himself to Dragonstone not long after the king went north," Varys said, "and our gallant Ser Barristan no doubt rides beside the king as he makes his way through the city, as befits the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard." "Perhaps we had best wait for Ser Barristan and the king to join us," Ned suggested. Renly Baratheon laughed aloud. "If we wait for my brother to grace us with his royal presence, it could be a long sit." "Our good King Robert has many cares," Varys said. "He entrusts some small matters to us, to lighten his load." "What Lord Varys means is that all this business of coin and crops and justice bores my royal brother to tears," Lord Renly said, "so it falls to us to govern the realm. He does send us a command from time to time." He drew a tightly rolled paper from his sleeve and laid it on the table. "This morning he commanded me to ride ahead with all haste and ask Grand Maester Pycelle to convene this council at once. He has an urgent task for us." Littlefinger smiled and handed the paper to Ned. It bore the royal seal. Ned broke the wax with his thumb and flattened the letter to consider the king's urgent command, reading the words with mounting disbelief. Was there no end to Robert's folly? And to do this in his name, that was salt in the wound. "Gods be good," he swore. "What Lord Eddard means to say," Lord Renly announced, "is that His Grace instructs us to stage a great tournament in honor of his appointment as the Hand of the King." "How much?" asked Littlefinger, mildly. Ned read the answer off the letter. "Forty thousand golden dragons to the champion. Twenty thousand to the man who comes second, another twenty to the winner of the melee, and ten thousand to the victor of the archery competition." "Ninety thousand gold pieces," Littlefinger sighed. "And we must not neglect the other costs. Robert will want a prodigious feast. That means cooks, carpenters, serving girls, singers, jugglers, fools . . . " "Fools we have in plenty," Lord Renly said. Grand Maester Pycelle looked to Littlefinger and asked, "Will the treasury bear the expense?" "What treasury is that?" Littlefinger replied with a twist of his mouth. "Spare me the foolishness, Maester. You know as well as I that the treasury has been empty for years. I shall have to borrow the money. No doubt the Lannisters will be accommodating. We owe Lord Tywin some three million dragons at present, what matter another hundred thousand?" Ned was stunned. "Are you claiming that the Crown is three million gold pieces in debt?" "The Crown is more than six million gold pieces in debt, Lord Stark. The Lannisters are the biggest part of it, but we have also borrowed from Lord Tyrell, the Iron Bank of Braavos, and several Tyroshi trading cartels. Of late I've had to turn to the Faith. The High Septon haggles worse than a Dornish fishmonger." Ned was aghast. "Aerys Targaryen left a treasury flowing with gold. How could you let this happen?" Littlefinger gave a shrug. "The master of coin finds the money. The king and the Hand spend it." "I will not believe that Jon Arryn allowed Robert to beggar the realm," Ned said hotly. Grand Maester Pycelle shook his great bald head, his chains clinking softly. "Lord Arryn was a prudent man, but I fear that His Grace does not always listen to wise counsel." "My royal brother loves tournaments and feasts," Renly Baratheon said, "and he loathes what he calls ‘counting coppers.' " "I will speak with His Grace," Ned said. "This tourney is an extravagance the realm cannot afford." "Speak to him as you will," Lord Renly said, "we had still best make our plans." "Another day," Ned said. Perhaps too sharply, from the looks they gave him. He would have to remember that he was no longer in Winterfell, where only the king stood higher; here, he was but first among equals. "Forgive me, my lords," he said in a softer tone. "I am tired. Let us call a halt for today and resume when we are fresher." He did not ask for their consent, but stood abruptly, nodded at them all, and made for the door. Outside, wagons and riders were still pouring through the castle gates, and the yard was a chaos of mud and horseflesh and shouting men. The king had not yet arrived, he was told. Since the ugliness on the Trident, the Starks and their household had ridden well ahead of the main column, the better to separate themselves from the Lannisters and the growing tension. Robert had hardly been seen; the talk was he was traveling in the huge wheelhouse, drunk as often as not. If so, he might be hours behind, but he would still be here too soon for Ned's liking. He had only to look at Sansa's face to feel the rage twisting inside him once again. The last fortnight of their journey had been a misery. Sansa blamed Arya and told her that it should have been Nymeria who died. And Arya was lost after she heard what had happened to her butcher's boy. Sansa cried herself to sleep, Arya brooded silently all day long, and Eddard Stark dreamed of a frozen hell reserved for the Starks of Winterfell. He crossed the outer yard, passed under a portcullis into the inner bailey, and was walking toward what he thought was the Tower of the Hand when Littlefinger appeared in front of him. "You're going the wrong way, Stark. Come with me." Hesitantly, Ned followed. Littlefinger led him into a tower, down a stair, across a small sunken courtyard, and along a deserted corridor where empty suits of armor stood sentinel along the walls. They were relics of the Targaryens, black steel with dragon scales cresting their helms, now dusty and forgotten. "This is not the way to my chambers," Ned said. "Did I say it was? I'm leading you to the dungeons to slit your throat and seal your corpse up behind a wall," Littlefinger replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We have no time for this, Stark. Your wife awaits." "What game are you playing, Littlefinger? Catelyn is at Winterfell, hundreds of leagues from here." "Oh?" Littlefinger's grey-green eyes glittered with amusement. "Then it appears someone has managed an astonishing impersonation. For the last time, come. Or don't come, and I'll keep her for myself." He hurried down the steps. Ned followed him warily, wondering if this day would ever end. He had no taste for these intrigues, but he was beginning to realize that they were meat and mead to a man like Littlefinger. At the foot of the steps was a heavy door of oak and iron. Petyr Baelish lifted the crossbar and gestured Ned through. They stepped out into the ruddy glow of dusk, on a rocky bluff high above the river. "We're outside the castle," Ned said. "You are a hard man to fool, Stark," Littlefinger said with a smirk. "Was it the sun that gave it away, or the sky? Follow me. There are niches cut in the rock. Try not to fall to your death, Catelyn would never understand." With that, he was over the side of the cliff, descending as quick as a monkey. Ned studied the rocky face of the bluff for a moment, then followed more slowly. The niches were there, as Littlefinger had promised, shallow cuts that would be invisible from below, unless you knew just where to look for them. The river was a long, dizzying distance below. Ned kept his face pressed to the rock and tried not to look down any more often than he had to. When at last he reached the bottom, a narrow, muddy trail along the water's edge, Littlefinger was lazing against a rock and eating an apple. He was almost down to the core. "You are growing old and slow, Stark," he said, flipping the apple casually into the rushing water. "No matter, we ride the rest of the way." He had two horses waiting. Ned mounted up and trotted behind him, down the trail and into the city. Finally Baelish drew rein in front of a ramshackle building, three stories, timbered, its windows bright with lamplight in the gathering dusk. The sounds of music and raucous laughter drifted out and floated over the water. Beside the door swung an ornate oil lamp on a heavy chain, with a globe of leaded red glass. Ned Stark dismounted in a fury. "A brothel," he said as he seized Littlefinger by the shoulder and spun him around. "You've brought me all this way to take me to a brothel." "Your wife is inside," Littlefinger said. It was the final insult. "Brandon was too kind to you," Ned said as he slammed the small man back against a wall and shoved his dagger up under the little pointed chin beard. "My lord, no," an urgent voice called out. "He speaks the truth." There were footsteps behind him. Ned spun, knife in hand, as an old white-haired man hurried toward them. He was dressed in brown roughspun, and the soft flesh under his chin wobbled as he ran. "This is no business of yours," Ned began; then, suddenly, the recognition came. He lowered the dagger, astonished. "Ser Rodrik?" Rodrik Cassel nodded. "Your lady awaits you upstairs." Ned was lost. "Catelyn is truly here? This is not some strange jape of Littlefinger's?" He sheathed his blade. "Would that it were, Stark," Littlefinger said. "Follow me, and try to look a shade more lecherous and a shade less like the King's Hand. It would not do to have you recognized. Perhaps you could fondle a breast or two, just in passing." They went inside, through a crowded common room where a fat woman was singing bawdy songs while pretty young girls in linen shifts and wisps of colored silk pressed themselves against their lovers and dandled on their laps. No one paid Ned the least bit of attention. Ser Rodrik waited below while Littlefinger led him up to the third floor, along a corridor, and through a door. Inside, Catelyn was waiting. She cried out when she saw him, ran to him, and embraced him fiercely. "My lady," Ned whispered in wonderment. "Oh, very good," said Littlefinger, closing the door. "You recognized her." "I feared you'd never come, my lord," she whispered against his chest. "Petyr has been bringing me reports. He told me of your troubles with Arya and the young prince. How are my girls?" "Both in mourning, and full of anger," he told her. "Cat, I do not understand. What are you doing in King's Landing? What's happened?" Ned asked his wife. "Is it Bran? Is he . . . "Dead was the word that came to his lips, but he could not say it. "It is Bran, but not as you think," Catelyn said. Ned was lost. "Then how? Why are you here, my love? What is this place?" "Just what it appears," Littlefinger said, easing himself onto a window seat. "A brothel. Can you think of a less likely place to find a Catelyn Tully?" He smiled. "As it chances, I own this particular establishment, so arrangements were easily made. I am most anxious to keep the Lannisters from learning that Cat is here in King's Landing." "Why?" Ned asked. He saw her hands then, the awkward way she held them, the raw red scars, the stiffness of the last two fingers on her left. "You've been hurt." He took her hands in his own, turned them over. "Gods. Those are deep cuts . . . a gash from a sword or . . . how did this happen, my lady?" Catelyn slid a dagger out from under her cloak and placed it in his hand. "This blade was sent to open Bran's throat and spill his life's blood." Ned's head jerked up. "But . . . who . . . why would . . . " She put a finger to his lips. "Let me tell it all, my love. It will go faster that way. Listen." So he listened, and she told it all, from the fire in the library tower to Varys and the guardsmen and Littlefinger. And when she was done, Eddard Stark sat dazed beside the table, the dagger in his hand. Bran's wolf had saved the boy's life, he thought dully. What was it that Jon had said when they found the pups in the snow? Your children were meant to have these pups, my lord. And he had killed Sansa's, and for what? Was it guilt he was feeling? Or fear? If the gods had sent these wolves, what folly had he done? Painfully, Ned forced his thoughts back to the dagger and what it meant. "The Imp's dagger," he repeated. It made no sense. His hand curled around the smooth dragonbone hilt, and he slammed the blade into the table, felt it bite into the wood. It stood mocking him. "Why should Tyrion Lannister want Bran dead? The boy has never done him harm." "Do you Starks have nought but snow between your ears?" Littlefinger asked. "The Imp would never have acted alone." Ned rose and paced the length of the room. "If the queen had a role in this or, gods forbid, the king himself . . . no, I will not believe that." Yet even as he said the words, he remembered that chill morning on the barrowlands, and Robert's talk of sending hired knives after the Targaryen princess. He remembered Rhaegar's infant son, the red ruin of his skull, and the way the king had turned away, as he had turned away in Darry's audience hall not so long ago. He could still hear Sansa pleading, as Lyanna had pleaded once. "Most likely the king did not know," Littlefinger said. "It would not be the first time. Our good Robert is practiced at closing his eyes to things he would rather not see." Ned had no reply for that. The face of the butcher's boy swam up before his eyes, cloven almost in two, and afterward the king had said not a word. His head was pounding. Littlefinger sauntered over to the table, wrenched the knife from the wood. "The accusation is treason either way. Accuse the king and you will dance with Ilyn Payne before the words are out of your mouth. The queen . . . if you can find proof, and if you can make Robert listen, then perhaps . . . " "We have proof," Ned said. "We have the dagger." "This?" Littlefinger flipped the knife casually end over end. "A sweet piece of steel, but it cuts two ways, my lord. The Imp will no doubt swear the blade was lost or stolen while he was at Winterfell, and with his hireling dead, who is there to give him the lie?" He tossed the knife lightly to Ned. "My counsel is to drop that in the river and forget that it was ever forged." Ned regarded him coldly. "Lord Baelish, I am a Stark of Winterfell. My son lies crippled, perhaps dying. He would be dead, and Catelyn with him, but for a wolf pup we found in the snow. If you truly believe I could forget that, you are as big a fool now as when you took up sword against my brother." "A fool I may be, Stark . . . yet I'm still here, while your brother has been moldering in his frozen grave for some fourteen years now. If you are so eager to molder beside him, far be it from me to dissuade you, but I would rather not be included in the party, thank you very much." "You would be the last man I would willingly include in any party, Lord Baelish." "You wound me deeply." Littlefinger placed a hand over his heart. "For my part, I always found you Starks a tiresome lot, but Cat seems to have become attached to you, for reasons I cannot comprehend. I shall try to keep you alive for her sake. A fool's task, admittedly, but I could never refuse your wife anything." "I told Petyr our suspicions about Jon Arryn's death," Catelyn said. "He has promised to help you find the truth." That was not news that Eddard Stark welcomed, but it was true enough that they needed help, and Littlefinger had been almost a brother to Cat once. It would not be the first time that Ned had been forced to make common cause with a man he despised. "Very well," he said, thrusting the dagger into his belt. "You spoke of Varys. Does the eunuch know all of it?" "Not from my lips," Catelyn said. "You did not wed a fool, Eddard Stark. But Varys has ways of learning things that no man could know. He has some dark art, Ned, I swear it." "He has spies, that is well known," Ned said, dismissive. "It is more than that," Catelyn insisted. "Ser Rodrik spoke to Ser Aron Santagar in all secrecy, yet somehow the Spider knew of their conversation. I fear that man." Littlefinger smiled. "Leave Lord Varys to me, sweet lady. If you will permit me a small obscenity—and where better for it—I hold the man's balls in the palm of my hand." He cupped his fingers, smiling. "Or would, if he were a man, or had any balls. You see, if the pie is opened, the birds begin to sing, and Varys would not like that. Were I you, I would worry more about the Lannisters and less about the eunuch." Ned did not need Littlefinger to tell him that. He was thinking back to the day Arya had been found, to the look on the queen's face when she said, We have a wolf, so soft and quiet. He was thinking of the boy Mycah, of Jon Arryn's sudden death, of Bran's fall, of old mad Aerys Targaryen dying on the floor of his throne room while his life's blood dried on a golden blade. "My lady," he said, turning to Catelyn, "there is nothing more you can do here. I want you to return to Winterfell at once. If there was one assassin, there could be others. Whoever ordered Bran's death will learn soon enough that the boy still lives." "I had hoped to see the girls . . . " Catelyn said. "That would be most unwise," Littlefinger put in. "The Red Keep is full of curious eyes, and children talk." "He speaks truly, my love," Ned told her. He embraced her. "Take Ser Rodrik and ride for Winterfell. I will watch over the girls. Go home to our sons and keep them safe." "As you say, my lord." Catelyn lifted her face, and Ned kissed her. Her maimed fingers clutched against his back with a desperate strength, as if to hold him safe forever in the shelter of her arms. "Would the lord and lady like the use of a bedchamber?" asked Littlefinger. "I should warn you, Stark, we usually charge for that sort of thing around here." "A moment alone, that's all I ask," Catelyn said. "Very well." Littlefinger strolled to the door. "Don't be too long. It is past time the Hand and I returned to the castle, before our absence is noted." Catelyn went to him and took his hands in her own. "I will not forget the help you gave me, Petyr. When your men came for me, I did not know whether they were taking me to a friend or an enemy. I have found you more than a friend. I have found a brother I'd thought lost." Petyr Baelish smiled. "I am desperately sentimental, sweet lady. Best not tell anyone. I have spent years convincing the court that I am wicked and cruel, and I should hate to see all that hard work go for naught." Ned believed not a word of that, but he kept his voice polite as he said, "You have my thanks as well, Lord Baelish." "Oh, now there's a treasure," Littlefinger said, exiting. When the door had closed behind him, Ned turned back to his wife. "Once you are home, send word to Helman Tallhart and Galbart Glover under my seal. They are to raise a hundred bowmen each and fortify Moat Cailin. Two hundred determined archers can hold the Neck against an army. Instruct Lord Manderly that he is to strengthen and repair all his defenses at WhiteHarbor, and see that they are well manned. And from this day on, I want a careful watch kept over Theon Greyjoy. If there is war, we shall have sore need of his father's fleet." "War?" The fear was plain on Catelyn's face. "It will not come to that," Ned promised her, praying it was true. He took her in his arms again. "The Lannisters are merciless in the face of weakness, as Aerys Targaryen learned to his sorrow, but they would not dare attack the north without all the power of the realm behind them, and that they shall not have. I must play out this fool's masquerade as if nothing is amiss. Remember why I came here, my love. If I find proof that the Lannisters murdered Jon Arryn . . . " He felt Catelyn tremble in his arms. Her scarred hands clung to him. "If," she said, "what then, my love?" That was the most dangerous part, Ned knew. "All justice flows from the king," he told her. "When I know the truth, I must go to Robert." And pray that he is the man I think he is, he finished silently, and not the man I fear he has become.

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