#THEORY COMING SO SOON ONCE WE BECOME COHERENT AGAIN

[waylibee-analysis-firm]

@willelmikes CATEGORY FIVE WAYLIBEE MOMENT

what’s the deal with chapter 9? can we get some out of context spoilers? 👀

[inquebrar]

i want to talk about the discovery of the new "alive egg" and an "unknown dead egg" and richas being from group 04 with his image glitching but i just kind of want to share my thoughts, i don't view this as a theory ok

first and foremost, i see only two options for the "Memories" egg that has been brought up to the conversation: either they are dead or they have always been Richas. personally i love this "richas theory" but i think, realistically speaking that the egg who wrote that diary, died. the reason for that is because when you create a story you need to create weight and depth for the characters as well, so people feel the immersion more deeply too.

i will mention Bobby's death, as it was the egg's death that had the most impact on the overall story and completely changed the course of the characters and their personal lore. Bobby's death was shocking and malicious, the feeling left was also of great injustice and this is perfectly linked to what the Federation and the Cucurucho mean to the story. more and more we have confirmations that they have total control over the lives of the eggs so it only makes all the situations more cruel, the eggs dying is a choice. and when you follow a story where this type of narrative happens, the attachment is stronger, the feelings are more intense and more significant, everything becomes more emotional because if you watch something where the most beloved characters are not at risk of death or when they die, it soon reverses and the character comes back to life... it completely loses the weight of the narrative. Bobby deserved to live, but Cucurucho chose that he deserved to die, the Federation does not see the eggs as children who have family, friends, personality and a life, for them, they are just experiments that can be used and discarded when desired. that's the weight of the story, this is the narrative we have been following for almost a year.

JuanaFlippa and the Codes. i still remember when everyone thought that Juana would come back to life, that she would receive another chance since (once again) her death would have been fraught with the feeling of injustice. there were several theories that she would come back to life after months of death, and when CodeFlippa's plot twist happened it was simply incredible. JuanaFlippa is dead, she will not return is what they reaffirmed once again about the narrative. therefore, rationally speaking, that little egg that was left to die by the federation must have died.

the Federation left that egg to die, that was their choice. it's unfair... it’s the feeling that remains, right? so it makes perfect sense.

i don't see any reason why it should be changed in the narrative that after 5 months since this diary was found, which was something impactful for the story and the weight of carrying the memory of a child who suffered and was left to die, this egg is alive after so long and after clearly the intention was to show once again how cruel the federation can be, as this also adds to the main story. unless it was the Federation's choice, to have used this egg that had been discarded to be the Brazilians' egg, which there is a lot of speculation that their arrival was something not foreseen by the Federation, so why not use that experiment that was discarded? it would make sense that Richas was a completely different egg that had their memory erased and was altered to be the new egg of the residents who arrived on the island without prediction. this would explain why, unlike Pomme, Richas initially couldn't communicate very well and didn't seem to understand things being said in portuguese, since the diary was written in english for example.

but this is just a theory that i really like, so i prefer something to be done that is more coherent with the story and not just for fanservice, so i believe that the egg from the "Memories" diary died or at least there will be a plot twist of explanation that somehow the little egg underwent experiments to be reused and become Richarlyson. well, that's it i don't know but i just hope to see new people from other countries soon and so there is a new egg to be discovered, i can't wait to meet more people from new cultures and see the new kid experiencing trauma together with their parents

i'm really excited to see what the QSMP 2024 will be like! more people, more countries, more cultures, more kids, more friends, more bonds to be created and more suffering from getting attached to characters and minecraft eggs!! :)

[phantomwarrior12]

Rest

"You look tired."

That voice. That calm, steady voice that warms his very soul. It reverberates through every cell of his body and Osiris feels as though he can breathe again.

And then the Titan is at his side and the Warlock lifts his gaze, tilting his head, "Saint, I didn't expect to see you so soon?"

It's not a question. They both know better than that. So much has kept them apart - the war with the Cabal, before that it was the Infinite Forest among a litany of factors that forbid the Warlock's return. Saint-14 was forever occupied with running the Trials training simulations, now shouldering mission coordination as well as the Eliksni encampment - Osiris genuinely cannot remember the last time they've spent a day, let alone an hour straight, together.

"Well, when my fiery Phoenix cannot come to see me," he trails off with a playful tilt of his head and Osiris is grateful his mask conceals the shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

How he has missed Saint-14.

"Yes, well, my apologies, Saint. With things as they are and Ikora needing my assistance--"

A solitary hand lifts and Osiris falls silent, staring back at his partner curiously.

"You don't have to explain, Osiris. We are both stretched to our limits with all of this. I only ask that you take time to rest." His hand settles gentle and firm on Osiris's shoulder, "Sagira would be reminding you of the very same sentiment, my Phoenix."

"Yes, I suppose she would be." The Warlock nods reluctantly, gaze falling to the books in front of him. He's not one for sentiment, but Saint has an alarmingly persistent ability to drudge up such nonsense. If it weren't so endearing, Osiris might become annoyed.

Luckily, it's endearing.

The gentle squeeze from Saint-14's hand drags the Warlock from his thoughts, his eyes darting to the helm just above him.

"Perhaps, when I return this evening, we can enjoy those constellations you talk about?"

It's genuine and thoughtful and Osiris is almost ashamed of the way his heart skips a beat. Saint doesn't have to indulge his theories of constellations shifting to align with alterations to the future timeline, but Osiris has come to notice one thing in particular during those discussions. Saint-14 doesn't retain a singular trace of information after five minutes.

He gets lost, or perhaps that's not the best way to describe the way that he stares at the Warlock with something akin to awe and - he is quite uncertain but Osiris may go as far as to suggest - adoration.

That's not to say Saint doesn't pay attention when it matters, in those moments where timing is critical, he is present and engaged and sharper than ever. But when it's the two of them? When Saint has broken into one of Lord Shaxx's barrels of wine - not that the Warlord actually drinks it anyway - and they're reclining beneath the stars as Osiris recounts another theory, there's this sort of daze that settles in Saint's ordinarily sharp, purple eyes. A warmth of sorts that elicits an ache in the Warlock's chest each time he takes notice of it.

When it's just the two of them, Osiris doesn't feel alone. He's never truly known the Tower to be home and after he lost Sagira? He has but one other place he feels at ease.

At Saint-14's side. The Titan is home, there is no simple way around it. The very same Titan stares back at him, his thumb brushing soothingly along the fabric over Osiris's cheek.

When it had settled there, Osiris doesn't know but it takes him a moment to form a coherent thought - he's never short on wit, obviously - but beneath Saint's touch, his mind fixates on the tender caress. It's exhilarating and debilitating all at once. Whether or not Saint is aware he holds this power over the Warlock is unclear, but Osiris likes to think it's as innocent and comforting as it seems.

An eternity later, he manages a few, soft words: "I'd like that."

"Good. Then I will see you tonight, my fiery Phoenix."

Saint's hand falls away from Osiris's cheek and he blinks for a moment, the loss of contact slow to register before he snaps to and nods - composed and professional all at once.

"Until tonight, Saint."

He watches the Titan depart, aching to follow but too steadfast in his duties to abandon them - even for his Titan. They have tonight, after all.

And it'll be a long awaited reunion.

--------------------------

A/N: This was written in direct contradiction of the new lore bit, they deserve to be happy. I’m not sorry. xD

Taglists are open! Send an ask/leave a comment to be added!

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @genken64 @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6

[lunawritingspaceoxoxxx]

Unresponsive II

Three months

Three

Three months

Y/N thrived in the art world, their first displayed piece expressed the raw feeling of losing a love that was so exciting and heart racing and trying to manage in this bland, cold world. They glanced out towards the concrete jungle, watching people hustle and bustle around; single mothers, business men, ladies of the night, etc. They sighed, walking towards the canvas, rubbing their face as they tried to create anything from this creative funk. They knew this was coming from the trip to the falling out with Jennie, suppressing it until they couldn’t anymore, breaking down from just feeling absolute shit from just everything, they cried for their lost friendship, for Damiano, for everything that they sacrificed to get her. When they first started dating Damiano, they were in college for communications and journalism and for the most part, they enjoyed it for the most part and they thought it was going to stick for the most part and then they met Damiano. He came through like a hurricane, tearing through their world and showing them more than just their little small town as he sent pictures of places that he toured at, sending love letters and expensive jewelry.And they cherished every single one, keeping them in a small box underneath their bed, unable to stand even looking at them. Y/N rolled their neck as they pulled off their shirt, tossing it to the side as they grabbed a paint can as they stared at the blank canvas in determination.

TWO WEEKS LATER

“‘Up and coming painter,Y/N L/N, has been hospitalized at New York’s mental hospital. They’ve been experiencing vivid hallucinations and long periods of mania, breaking the glass of their high rise apartment. One theory is giving a little bit of insight to why they’re acting like this, some say she hasn’t been sleeping well or sleeping at all. They recently did a painting stream and you won’t believe this, for almost 30 hours. Some say that they didn’t move either, to eat or relieve themselves, so they potentially have an eating disorder as well.’'

Ethan scoffed as he changed the channel, tossing the remote to the side. “Lo sa ancora (Does he know yet)?” Ethan questioned as he opened a bottle of liquor, pouring himself a glass along with Thomas and Vic. “No, but he’ll probably know soon, you know he kept tabs on them. I don’t know why though, I’m pretty sure that they’re over with.” Damiano stepped through the door, looking worse for wear as he stomped through the room, taking the swing of the bottle. “Damiano….” “Just don’t. I don’t want to hear it, I know they’re in the hospital and-” “Dude, we’re just wondering if you’re okay, we don’t care about them-” Damiano stopped as he glared at Thomas, bending down in front of him. “I don’t give a shit how I feel, but you’re not going to disrespect Y/N in front of me. You can do it anywhere else, but around me.” Ethan quietly watched him as he slammed the door shut. “Maybe he’s onto something, he knows them better than us, maybe they’re nice.” Vic spoke up after a while, rubbing her neck as she felt an insane amount of guilt. She knew that Y/N knew that, and the rest of the band didn’t like them. They were so different from Damiano’s partners, none of his partners were foriegn, Y/N was an American and they did things differently than they do. “Are you okay, Vic, you look like you have an idea that none of us are going to like.” Vic was going to make this right and help these two useless lovebirds. “Pack all of your shit, we’re going to America.”

“What do you mean they’re not here? Where could they go?” The receptionist stared blankly at three before grabbing the phone. “If I knew that, I still couldn’t tell you because of HIPAA, if you don’t leave, I will call security.” They quickly stepped out of the building, disappointed as they looked at themselves. “Okay, so we’re going back home right?” Ethan looked done with everything, glaring at the paparazzi that made their way down the street. “We’re going to look for them, I’m not giving up, Damiano is close to shutting down completely and leaving the band. We owe it to him to at least help him either get back together or help him move on.” Vic realized during the ten-hour flight how well Damiano was doing much better with them in his life, they actively made sure that he was eating and remembering important small details. They were a match made in heaven and according to Vic, everyone needed someone to manage in the cruel world. “I know that they have a friend named Jennie, we just have to find where she’s at.”

“The world hasn’t been too kind to you, hasn’t it?” An older man glanced towards the backseat, frowning as he occasionally watched his child sleep. They looked exhausted and ready to throw in the towel from this brutal boxing match. He remembered them, crying into the phone, on the verge of a panic attack as they tried to form a coherent sentence and the next thing he knew, he was on a flight headed to New York. He knew that after the death of their mother, his wife, that they weren’t okay, but it was their senior year of high school and they got into a very prestigious school. They just kept going and going, no time to grieve and he was surprised that it took them so long to do so. As a father, he wanted to protect them from the outside world and yet, he couldn’t be there for them and it frustrated him so much. He pulled into a dirt road, sighing as they made their way down that familiar path. “I just want you to be happy again, just have this snarkier, larger than life attitude, and enjoy yourself. If you didn’t know, I’m proud of you and I’ll make sure that you know that for the rest of your life.”

“So you’re that Måneskin? Not going to lie, I thought Y/N was lying about him, you know? They seem a little...off the rails.” Ethan furrowed his eyebrows at Jennie as she basically walked around naked. “Is there another Måneskin band that we don’t know about? I’m getting sidetracked, where is Y/N? I know they had a breakdown and I thought in America you had to stay there for three days so?” Jennie just looked at the other woman, shrugging her shoulders as she walked into her kitchen, dancing to trashy pop music. “I really don’t know and I really don’t care, I didn’t consider Y/N as my friend. When they came to New York, I just took advantage of that, they were from the South. They came here and wanted to make all of the friends, wanting to get close with everybody and you know what? I could see them, slowly crack and not be their cheerful self and -” “God, no wonder they acted like that, they have you in their right ear, being a negative bitch and making themselves feel like shit.” Thomas spoke up as she pouted, making Ethan and Vic wear a puzzled look on their faces. “How are you making this about yourself? They’re obviously not in a good mental state, don’t make this about you.” Ethan shuffled uncomfortably in his seat as he looked around, coughing awkwardly. Jennie raised her eyebrows at them before she opened the door, pointing out. “Get the fuck out of my apartment and never come back. You’re lucky that I became friends with that hillbilly freak, no one else would ever deal with them.” Once again, they were stumped, they had no leads and they were pretty much ready to give up and call it a day. “...Vic, why are you doing this? Be honest with us, why do you feel this urge to help them? What have they done for you to help them?” “Because Damiano..has become a better person because of them, he’s been worse than this before. He would sleep around, not caring about who he hurt in the process and he was just sinking further and further. Then Y/N came along, they became friends and it took months of Damiano being called out for him to change and during that time frame, he fell in love with Y/N. ...I was jealous, he was more open with them than me. I’ve known him longer than anyone else and it was painful for me to hear him express his dreams and feelings to someone else. I wanted him to express himself with me instead of trying to act like he’s okay with whatever he was dealing with. That’s why I despised them, my jealousy got the best of me and it clouded my judgement.”

2 MONTHS LATER

Y/N watched the fields of corn as they seemed to continue on, never ending as the days went on. They were mounted on their childhood horse, Luna, as they explored the unchanging surroundings around them. Everything was the same, albeit, it really wasn’t, people passed away and some left to bigger and better things and the town that they grew up with just faded away. It was a ghost town, hardly anything stayed in town, all of the mom and pop shops shut down as the older generation retired and their children didn’t want to run a store. Y/N was lucky to have such great parents and allowed them to explore and learn everything they wanted to know. They never held that against their parents, they knew that just being the weird kid would have been sheltered because they knew how society treated children who didn’t fit into the norm. ”Whatca thinkin about?” “Nothing really, just relaxing, thinking, I don’t know what else to do, I don’t want to go back to New York quite yet. I don’t want to paint..it just reminds me of him, and losing him was the second worst pain that I've dealt with. I remember when mom died and I just pushed myself through, buried myself in my college work and...Damiano helped me decompress, I lost my rock and I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t want to see me. His group just won Eurovision and they’re getting international attention…” Their father watched them carefully, walking next to them. “Let me ask you a question, why did you and Damiano fight? Let’s start from there.” Y/N stopped Luna as they spun around to face the older man. “We fought because I traveled all the way to Rome and got drunk for two weeks. I thought we were going to spend time together and he would take me to see his favorite places-” “Did you tell him that? Before you confronted him?” Their father gave him that same look that they loved to give. Y/N had this bad habit where they'd daydream about important conversations and not have those said conversations in real life, they looked away shamefully. “No...I didn’t” “You know men are dumb as rocks, you need to tell us everything or we won’t pick up on hints that you drop. When your mother was pregnant with you, she would constantly get mad when I didn’t do things which led her to getting a chalkboard to let me know what I needed to do. Good communication makes a relationship thrive and survive, you can’t be silent and expect him to come to you. Now, do you want with this information, there’s someone who would love to speak to you.” A car sped down the dirt path, unfamiliar with this terrain, stopping as they rushed out of the car. “How did he even..” They urged Luna to slowly make their way back inwards, nervously glancing back towards their father, he only nodded as he urged them to continue on.

“Excuse me? I’m looking for…” Damiano trailed off as he watched them slowly trotted over to him. “..How did you even find me?” “Honestly, I spent hours upon hours looking through our facetimes and I just wanted to see you...I have so much to say and I just….Ti amo e voglio essere con te(I love you and I want to be with you), I’m hurting when you are and I realized that I can’t imagine myself without you. You’ve been there when I was at my lowest and you know me so personally and I don’t want to lose you.” Damiano grasped their waist as he pulled them into his chest. “Damia-” “No, let me talk first, you were absolutely right, we should’ve talked about what we should’ve done when you visited. I was stupid to think-” Y/N covered his mouth, shaking their head, “No, I’m partially to blame as well, I didn’t communicate what I wanted and I ended up causing a scene and I embarrassed you in front of everyone and your bandmates probably hate me even more.” Damiano wasn’t even listening to what they were saying, unable to focus on anything else but them, he quickly took their face in his hands, eagerly kissing as he ran his hands along their body, gripping their hips. “You weren’t listening to a word I said, did you?” “Diavolo, no(Hell no), you’re too distracting for me to focus.” He chuckled, pulling them closer to him, smirking when they gasped. “Don’t give me that look, I’ve always wanted to sleep with my amore on their childhood bedroom, let’s make that into a reality, shall we?”

[asprettyasyourown]

How/Where do you think Jon and Arya will meet again? And how/where do you think Dany and Arya will meet?

Honestly, I can’t see Arya and Jon meeting anywhere else other than Winterfell. It would be such a satisfying “conclusion” to this aspect of their storyline. For Arya, both Winterfell AND Jon have been associated with home. She has tried since day one to return to either of them, and to see her do both at the same time would be so lovely. And Jon too, who has struggled for so long with his desire to have Winterfell (feeding his rivalry with Robb and his conflict with his status as a bastard) and Arya (contradicting his position as a member of the Night’s Watch, who have no family), would then get both at the same time. I know GRRM doesn’t like to hand things on a silver platter, and that “Be careful what you wish for” is a massive theme in the series, but come on. You can’t tell me they had it easy, and that they didn’t fight for it.

Now how and when is a little trickier.

Unfortunately, it won’t happen before a loooong time. Arya has a long way to go before leaving Essos, let alone reach Winterfell. She still needs to: 

Tie the story with the FM (including a “training” with the courtesans/the Black Pearl, and of course leaving them);

Deal with the wildlings women and children that are stranded in Braavos now that the Sealord captured the ship (= slavers) that intended to sell them;

As I’ve mentioned before, I very much see the Iron Bank being involved in her storyline, so there’s that to deal with as well;

Meet Dany (I’ll go back to this later);

Go back to Westeros;

Deal with the Riverlands, the Brotherhoods Without Banners and, most importantly, Lady Stoneheart;

Reconnect with Nymeria.

And all that doesn’t even take into account what GRRM could throw in her way on top of all of this. That’s a lot. And since Arya will definitively not see Jon anywhere outside of the North, it could only happen after she resolved all those things.

Jon too has a lot on his plate. He first needs to be resurrected (duh). He also needs to deal with the traitors who stabbed him and his future in the Night’s Watch. If you omit the whole murder thing (kinda hard to tbh), there is still the fact he broke his vows for Arya. He was already set to leave before he died. And since his last thoughts were about Arya, and we know the dead who get resurrected focus on their last conscious thoughts, his resolve to get her back will not be lessened.

Honestly, I think he’s done with the NW. I think he’s gonna do what he intended to before dying, aka kill Ramsay and get “Arya” back, whether by allying with Stannis or at the head of his own wildling army. I don’t know if he’s gonna become King in the North like in GoT, but he’s definitively going to be considered for the role; and since Bran, the legitimate heir, is still alive and will one day return to Winterfell, this could be the catalyst for the tension between these two George planned in his original draft. Not to mention the tensions it would create with the other northern lords, who would not see with a kind eye a bastard allied with the wildlings (enemies of the North for generations) and Stannis; or those who simply won’t appreciate a king not as malleable as a child (side-eye to the Manderlys).

(Oh, and there is also the matter with fArya and Theon. I’m going on a limb here, but I doubt he’s gonna be happy to learn that what he thought was his precious “sister” is really an impostor (though he might be happy to know the real Arya didn’t get what Jeyne had to endure). Or that she’s bringing along the guy who betrayed the Starks and supposedly killed Bran and Rickon. His first reaction definitively won’t be good, though it will probably soften once he learns what happened to them and how Ramsay is the real culprit. But I’m not anticipating much benevolence from him, especially since he’s in dark mode now).

So yeah. Lots of issues to be resolved before they can be reunited, and that’s without counting on the threat of the Others or what other characters might do. Honestly, I’m anticipating a reunion between the end of TWOW and the beginning of ADOS. On one hand, I think it would be more impactful in TWOW; most specifically, the last act of either Jon or Arya’s chapters. It would be a nice conclusion for the both of them, before the Others mess everything up. But I’m also aware that all the issues I’ve previously mentioned might not be resolved in one book, and that it might spill on the second one.

-----------------------------

Now Dany.

Honestly, it’s kinda hard to be sure of how they’re gonna meet. They will, that’s a certainty. There is so much hints, since the first book really. Remember this?

This time the monsters did not frighten her. They seemed almost old friends. [Arya, IV, AGOT]

Which is exactly how I’m anticipating their relationship. At first, things are going to be tense, especially on Dany’s side who has been fed lies about the Starks and their role in her exile (and who could blame her). So there’s definitively room for Arya to be frightened. But once she gets Dany to see her side to the story, and her vision of the events become more balanced, they’ll become fast-friends. They have so much in common, it’s impossible for them not to.

But, once again, the details of how they’re gonna meet is blurry. Arya will need to at least be done with the FM. And Dany... Dany has a lot on her plate too. She’s gonna need to deal with the khalasar she hears at the end of ADWD, and a possible confrontation (alliance?) with the Dothraki. She will also need to end the plot in Meereen (aka choose between “fixing” its whole culture or do what she always intended to, return to Westeros and seize back the Iron Throne). Of course, we know she’s gonna choose the latter - but a bunch of things can happen between that, and with them time passing.

At this point, Arya and Dany are very far away, each at one extremity of Essos. For them to have a chance to meet, I anticipate that Dany will end things with Meereen at the same time Arya closes the storyline with the FM (maybe even before, so Dany could already be on the road towards Braavos). Now is the tricky part. I have two theories on how they will meet: through the lost Wildlings and through the Iron Bank.

The lost Wildlings

We know the wildlings women and children in Braavos were “freed” when the Sealord seized the ship carrying them. Unfortunately, others were not so lucky.

“I know why the Sealord seized the Goodheart. She was carrying slaves. Hundreds of slaves, women and children, roped together in her hold.” Braavos had been founded by escaped slaves, and the slave trade was forbidden here. “I know where the slaves came from. They were wildlings from Westeros, from a place called Hardhome. An old ruined place, accursed.” Old Nan had told her tales of Hardhome, back at Winterfell when she had still been Arya Stark. “After the big battle where the King-Beyond-the-Wall was killed, the wildlings ran away, and this woods witch said that if they went to Hardhome, ships would come and carry them away to someplace warm. But no ships came, except these two Lyseni pirates, Goodheart and Elephant, that had been driven north by a storm. They dropped anchor off Hardhome to make repairs, and saw the wildlings, but there were thousands and they didn’t have room for all of them, so they said they’d just take the women and the children. The wildlings had nothing to eat, so the men sent out their wives and daughters, but as soon as the ships were out to sea, the Lyseni drove them below and roped them up. They meant to sell them all in Lys. Only then they ran into another storm and the ships were parted. The Goodheart was so damaged her captain had no choice but to put in here, but the Elephant may have made it back to Lys. The Lyseni at Pynto’s think that she’ll return with more ships. The price of slaves is rising, they said, and there are thousands more women and children at Hardhome.” [The Blind Girl, ADWD]

So the Goodheart was too damaged to go to Lys, but the Elephant wasn’t. It means there are still hundreds of wildlings women and children enslaved there. Honestly, I’m not sure how Arya could be involved in freeing them. Lys is a long way from Braavos, which means she would have to travel down there (with no resources and the other half of the wildlings), free them and get back up to sail across the Narrow Sea, deal with the Riverlands and then go North. It’s a little much for one girl, even one as resourceful as Arya. Sure, she could ask help from the Iron Bank (see my second point), but I doubt they would indulge her (high risk for no rewards).

But. You know who is as strongly against slavery as Arya, whose path might make her travel to Lys and who has the resources to fuck shit up? Yep, Dany.

The way I see it is, after being disheartened by Meereen and her failure to change the slaver(y) culture, Dany could very much decide to go home to Westeros - and set everything ablaze in her path. If she failed to abolish slavery from the inside, she might decide to do it by force, as a last FUCK YOU to the masters. This could be the beginning of her rock bottom, before she rises back again. It’s also coherent with the Dothraki culture of “Submit or be killed”, which could play a part if she allies with them again.

So I could see her attacking the big cities of Essos, destroying the masters and freeing the slaves as she goes along, until she reaches Braavos - who may be protected since 1. she would use its port to journey across the Narrow Sea and 2. they’re famously known for being founded by slaves and anti-slavery as a whole (and they actually enforce that rule, not just preach it and close their eyes when it counts). There, she could meet Arya through the wildlings women reuniting. Like I said, things would be tense at first, but if they might not be friends at first, they might respect each other for having their hearts set on the same goal (protecting their people). Friendship would come later, I’m not worried about that.

The Iron Bank theory

For me, the Iron Bank doesn’t get the recognition it deserves as a threat, and I fully anticipate them having a much larger role in the next book.

I really believe they will have a hand in Arya going back to Westeros. After she leaves the FM, I very much see them stepping in to offer their “help” to Arya. Personally, I believe the Kindly Man informed them of her real identity (though his motivations are yet unclear). I believe he’s aware of her value as a princess, and the (supposedly) last heir of the North. Look how people are rallying for her in the North when they hear “Valiant Ned’s precious little girl” is being brutalized. Do you think the Iron Bank is gonna pass on such a prize? I can see them trying to do to her what the Manderlys are doing with Rickon, or what Illyrio tried to do with Dany - offer their protection and help so she would be/feel indebted. They could get ahold of the North through Arya, and of the other Kingdoms through Stannis/the crown’s debt. Not too shabby.

But wait, there is a problem arising. A problem named Daenerys, who fully intends to take back the Iron Throne - and if she does, she’s not gonna care about reimbursing the debt her predecessors/usurpers left, thus lessening their leverage (and with three dragons, a Dothraki army and the Unsullied, threatening her is not gonna fly well). I can see them trying to step in too, promise the same things to her they did to Arya - except she’s not gonna fall for the same ploy like Viserys did with Illyrio.

(Btw, I’m sure Arya too will see right through them - she had a whole training dedicated to make her see beyond appearances, and she’s always been pretty observant (like when she didn’t fall for trap Cersei laid for her, with Lannister soldiers dressed as Stark men in AGOT). But she also don’t have the same resources Dany has, and if she frees the wildlings, she’ll have hundreds of mouths to feed and transport back to Westeros. I can’t see her do that without external help, so she might be playing along til a better opportunity arise.)

Now, both these theories have their flaws. The biggest one, for me, is time. Meereen is not gonna be resolved in a day (unless Dany just sets everything on fire the moment she arrives and takes off into the sunset, but I doubt that). She still needs enough time to travel to Braavos. Even if George takes his sweet time closing the FM storyline, dealing with the wildlings in Braavos and the Iron Bank, it’s not gonna take a million chapters. Unless he throws something in there to delay her departure, something that wasn’t foreshadowed yet? Because I don’t see them meeting first in Westeros. What would be the point of having them on the same continent if they don’t meet there? As always, there’s a lot left hanging in the air.

[vidimillion]

Hc of jason and nico meeting pre HoO?

thank you for asking this. i hope you wanted something really long, because not only is this really long but it’s also only half coherent.

jason was freshly eleven when he met the ten-year-old nico di angelo. it was early in the morning when he'd heard a centurion of the third cohort mention a disturbance in the forest. it wasn't exactly eavesdropping, he swears. he was just passing by them, when he knew he should've been asleep.

years later, he didn't know why exactly he did it, but he supposed he was young. he wanted to prove himself.

or maybe more accurately, he wanted to break his unearned reputation of being a golden boy. what better way to do that then to do something he wasn't supposed to?

being the dumbass kid he was, he went out alone to the forest, bringing his sword and nothing else. he didn't know what to expect but when he saw a black mass in the forest, sucking up the light like death itself, he was expecting a monster.

then the mass turned around, eyes afraid and hands shaking as they gripped a long black sword. and jason saw that he was just a kid.

before jason could do anything, the boy turned away and disappeared into shadows. freaking out about whether or not he'd just seen a ghost, he ran into the barracks and told the first person he saw. whispers go around fast, and by that afternoon jason hears the theories of who he saw in the forest— a son of pluto.

jason convinces the senate not to send patrols to look for the boy. "You didn't see him, he looked so scared." he'd say. "A patrol would scare him away! I'll look for him myself, every day, I promise!"

he keeps the promise, even when the boy doesn't show up for weeks after that. he keeps it because he knows what it's like to be left confused and alone, forced to fight things you didn't know were real. and he knows it's normal, he knows that's just what happens to demigods, but it doesn't change how much he remembered wanting someone to save him.

he sees the boy again weeks later. and before the boy can run away again he yells after him, "We know what you are!"

the boy freezes, and it looks like jason made it even worse but at least he bought himself time. "No, I mean— you're a demigod right? I am too, we all are here."

jason smiles at him, "do you want me to show you in?"

(actual headcanons following)

jason decides this guy, who's name is nico di angelo, is his best friend now. before bringing him into camp, he felt weird about possibly having another child of the big three around. but when nico confirms the fact three days later, all jason feels is relief.

nico bunks next to jason in the fifth cohort but says he can't pick one to join. he says it's because he can't stay for long, and jason asks why but nico doesn't give him a straight answer. so instead, he takes nico shopping for bedsheets. jason wants to make sure the bunk nico's claimed as his stays his, even when he's gone.

the reputation they build for themselves is incredible. as the only kids of the big three in camp, they're powerful separated but unstoppable together. (this proves for fantastic entertainment when they spar, and a very tough fight for whoever they're going up against if they're a team.)

it's also a worthy mention that not only do they become more powerful when they're fighting together, when they're off the battlegrounds they also get a whole lot stupider. they've got wild spirits, and though they reign it in when they're on their own, they cause shitstorms of trouble when they're together.

(more under the cut)

nico's gone for weeks at a time but every time he comes back jason never gets less excited. he greets him when he arrives and waves him off when he leaves again. that becomes the norm soon— whenever nico's here, you can find jason right next to him.

the senate said nico couldn't stay unless he picked a cohort, and if he picked a cohort he couldn't leave. when he one day comes back with a report from pluto himself explaining why nico has to come and go sometimes, they find a way for him to stay. (they won't hesitate to admit the boy's grown on the community. they wouldn't wanna say goodbye to him either.) and thus, nico was freshly eleven when he's made the ambassador of pluto.

jason isn't allowed to leave camp jupiter, so sometimes nico sneaks him out with shadow travel. the first time they did it, jason actually puked because his twelve-year-old system is a little weak. it was worth it though, because nico bought him his first mcdonalds. jason doesn't think he could ever go back.

that's also how he found out that nico's dad gives him unlimited money to spend on whatever. he realizes nico has zero budgeting skills when he was nearly persuaded to buy a twenty dollar ice cream

when they were both thirteen years old, they were both officially allowed to go on minor quests. on the first one they take, it goes haywire but they meet a little puerto rican girl their age. after a little bit of explaining (and also a little bit of de-escalating, because wow this new demigod is good with a dagger), they find her name is reyna, and they take her back to camp jupiter

jason adopts her immediately, and thus so does nico, because they're a two-in-one deal. they become an iconic trio immediately— some people throw around rumours about love triangles between them, but none of them are ever the same. some say nico and jason argue over reyna's love, some say nico and reyna are fighting for jason's, some say jason and reyna are fighting for nico's.

reyna gets phantom crushes on both of them, mostly out of feeling like she needed to have a crush on them. they're the two people she loves most in the world, so it felt like proper procedure. it fades fast once she realizes they're very clearly in love with each other. she doesn't say anything about it, wanting them to realize on their own. she just hopes it's soon.

by the time nico comes back to camp with a curly-haired daughter of pluto, he's already told jason and reyna of who bianca was. he doesn't answer their looks of concerns for a long time. (but they fucking love hazel. new adoptee)

nico comes back from the war with kronos to be told jason lead the roman army and defeated krios by himself. he flips his shit.

(but he still congratulates jason on the praetorship by taking him on a small trip to gold coast, australia. after battling a monster in public, they appear in the news for allegedly fighting six feral red kangaroos in the street)

jason is diagnosed with ptsd soon after the war. nico finds that he can't bring himself to leave, not when he's one of the only people who know how to calm jason down from a panic attack. he can't leave him, not when jason has never left him.

one of the ways his ptsd manifests is through night terrors. and he doesn't want to ask for help. he's always telling people "there's no shame in asking for help" or "you can ask for help when you need it, we won't judge". yet he can't bring himself to follow his own advice. it's different for him, he often thinks. it's just different.

one day, he gets an especially bad one. it's so bad he almost can't breathe, and it takes him nearly two and a half hours until he's even able to move. when he can feel his legs again, he walks to nico's private quarters.

jason doesn't even have to say anything, and nico is pulling him inside and settling him in his white sheets. the same ones they bought together when they were little, relocated after they'd both moved from barrack bunks.

they don't say anything, but jason quietly asks if nico will hold him. there's something unreadable in his dark brown eyes, but he says yes with such certainty that jason knows he means it.

a few weeks later, jason wakes up in the back of a school bus, holding a pretty girl's hand but not knowing her name. the only thing he remembers is the name nico di angelo.

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Halloween Countdown - Dark Night

Summary: For some people, storms are a sign of bad luck coming. For Maven, lonely in her secluded castle, they meant she’d get to see her favourite human. Things change, however, when Johanna shows a longing for change, and Maven has no idea whether this will be good or ruin them. Vampire!librarian AU

Notes: Only two days for Halloween, where are the vampire librarian stans at? This fic was inspired by this post over here! Also I once more threw any historical accuracy out of the window. At first I was going to do a tribal celtic kind of thing, but then I realized it absolutely did not match the whole vampire thing and gave up. It’s probably set by the end of the Renaissance or something

Read it on ao3

Spooky song rec: Ghosting by Mother Mother

The night was dark and cold outside, with a biting wind that couldn’t be stopped even by the warmest of coats. The last thing someone would think about in a night like that was leaving their home to wander in the woods, and that’s what made Maven sure that she’d come. 

The first time Johanna had knocked at the doors of her castle, she’d been lost. Rain had been pouring down violently, making her soaking wet, water dripping from tendrils of hair which stuck to her face.

She hated to intrude, she’d explained, but she’d been picking mushrooms in the woods and the rain caught her unprepared.

Maven had let her in, of course. Not only because she wasn’t cruel enough to lock a seemingly harmless human out in the storm, but also because she had been intrigued. The woman couldn’t have walked too far just to pick mushrooms, meaning she had to live in one of the villages at the base of the hill in which her castle was. That being the case, she’d certainly heard the tales about the monster that inhabited the looming fortress, and if she was there at that very moment, she either didn’t believe them or was brave enough to face what everybody else would tell her not to.

Despite Johanna’s assurances that all she needed was a place to stay for the night, Maven had given her food (no matter what the villagers said, vampires <em>did</em> eat things other than blood) and a warm seat by the fire. Come morning, the woman had been gone, and Maven had assumed this would have been it. But it hadn’t been. 

A week later, Johanna had been at her door again. It hadn’t been raining that time, but the sun had already begun to set, in a way that she wouldn’t have been able to get back to her village before night fell and those parts became dangerous. She’d been invited in once more, seeming more at ease. She accepted the meal Maven had offered her without much deliberation, and gone as far as being curious about the castle. Maven had thought she would have been eager to fall asleep by the fireplace again, to be on her way as soon as morning came. Instead, she’d shown a lot of interest in some of the objects she saw, asking Maven for their stories, which she told gladly. When the birds began to sing, she once again left, and once again Maven thought she’d never come to see the intriguing woman again, and once more she’d been proven wrong.

On the third time she came, she hadn’t been so subtle. Her cover story was the same, that she’d been in the forest and lost track of the time, but that time she’d conveniently brought a pie which she’d baked into the woods, which she said she’d be delighted to share with the lady. Maven hadn’t wanted to flatter herself and think Johanna enjoyed her presence, after all she gave her food and warmth, two things that many villagers often went without, but she was no fool to continue thinking the visits were unintentional.

On that third night, Johanna had politely asked her to show her more of the castle. Though they’d spent most of the night in the last room Maven showed her, the library, the stronger memory they both had of that night was of the ballroom. The ample space was seldom used for its original purpose, of course, due to Maven’s secluded lifestyle, and seeing Johanna walk into it had made her feel like she’d breathed new air into the room, as if she’d brought some of her light inside her castle and made it shine at its core.

Taking Maven by surprise, something which she seemed to have gotten good at, Johanna had extended her hand and asked for a dance. Maven had been helpless to comply, and a group of instruments, which lied forgotten in a corner of the ballroom, sprang to life as if by magic, playing them an elegant tune Maven recognized though she couldn’t point out when it was she’d heard it. Maven interlaced her fingers with Johanna, one of her hands on her waistline, and they waltzed to the tune. That was the closest a human had willingly gotten to her in longer than she cared to remember.

When she left after that night, Maven had hoped she would have come back. Those visits had brought a warmth into her heart that she’d gone many years without even remembering how it felt, to care about someone else. And that time she’d been right, for week after week, Johanna thought it was an amazing idea to leave her house when the weather threatened to change and lost track of time in the woods, being forced to seek shelter at the vampire’s castle.

And she did know Maven was a vampire. Whether that was the case when they first met or not, Johanna had surely noticed at that point. Maven still remembered how her breath had caught in her throat when she had looked at one of the mirrors in the ballroom and only seen herself. Johanna had been shocked, she recalled, but she must have already had suspicions, because her surprise didn’t last long.

“Oh, we look so-” Johanna had been saying, one hand on Maven’s shoulder and the other with Maven’s own, when she looked at the mirror by the wall and saw only herself, dancing with emptiness. Her eyes had widened and she had inhaled sharply, but when she looked at Maven again she only smiled. “Beautiful!”

Maven had been too distracted wondering if she’d stop coming after noticing the tales were true to wonder about her comment. But she didn’t, and even if that hadn’t happened, even if Maven had taken care not to take her anywhere with mirrors, then Johanna would have noticed her sharp fangs in one of the many times she’d made her laugh, or the way her nose scrunched when she mentioned her village’s parish. It wasn’t ignorance that made her keep coming back, but they never talked about that. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them for Johanna to pretend she didn’t know, and for Maven to pretend she hadn’t seen it when she noticed. It was simpler that way.

The visits had become a spot of colour in Maven’s black and white world. Johanna had offered to bring life back into her home, into her soul, and she’d allowed her to. What bad did it cause to talk over a glass of wine and  steal glances at each other while they read? And if when Maven offered Johanna a room for the night, she climbed in bed with so the two women could cuddled together despite the warmth from the fireplace, then the world was none the wiser. 

Something had changed, though. The last time Johanna had been in her castle, saying she’d gotten lost in the woods and couldn’t come back home straightway because of the violent wind outside, she’d said something that had startled Maven before going away.

“Would you like me to bring Hilda the next time I come here?” She’d asked when Maven was about to see her out in the morning. “I think she’d love to meet you.”

Any coherent thoughts had been snatched out of Maven’s mind upon hearing those words. That wasn’t supposed to happen. With that simple question, Johanna had broken their silent accordance, the barrier that kept them at arm’s reach of each other at the same time that it kept them safe. Bring Hilda the next time. It was a spoken confession that she didn’t just happen to get lost in the woods often, even if they knew that already. It was  a sign of  clear desire for Maven to  be a bigger part of her life.

It was the end of their relationship as it had been, and they would never be able to go back to where they’d been.

“No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Not… not next time, at least.” She’d answered, even though she would have liked nothing best than to meet young Hilda. The way her mother talked about her made her sound like a fascinating girl, but besides that, meeting her would be one more step inside Johanna’s life, one she realized she desperately wanted to take, but couldn’t.

Johanna had been disappointed, but she hadn't had it show on her face for more than an instant. Didn’t she tire, Maven wondered, to hide her feelings for the sake of keeping the appearances between them?

She probably did tire, because otherwise she wouldn’t be offering the perfect opportunity to reshape their relationship, to start again. And yet, Maven couldn’t accept, though her heart screamed at her to call Johanna back while she’d watched her walk away that morning.

That was what made her decide that she had to tell her to stop. If Johanna wanted a future, wanted commitment and love, she was wasting her time, and possibly even ruining her life by being invested in a monster. It was one thing to flirt and steal touches once a week, when the night was dark and the gloom hid them. It was entirely another to try and make them something <em>more</em>. Already, the people in Johanna’s village must be whispering theories about why she was seen climbing down the vampire’s hill so often.

If Maven didn’t stop herself, she’d ruin her.

Three knocks on her door. Maven had been right, Johanna had come that night.

She opened the door to allow her in and closed it just as quickly, so as to not let the cold in. It wouldn’t affect her if it did, but humans were sensitive to that sort of thing.

“Gosh, I didn’t see this gale coming! There’s no way I can come back home with the weather like this. Could I spend the night here, if it’s not too much of a bother?” She asked, even though she was already unclasping her cloak. Johanna was back to trying to keep appearances, and she didn’t sound too happy about it, avoiding Maven’s eyes for a few moments.

That night, it was apple cider she had taken with herself to the forest, she informed. They had it over dinner, while Johanna talked about her village’s preparations for the third harvest and Maven tried to ignore her growing feelings of despair. If she was to allow herself one last night with Johanna, she couldn’t spend it brooding.

“What do you wish to do now?”  Johanna asked when the meal was over, as her host got up from her chair and walked over to her, to offer her her hand.

“I was wondering if you’d give me a dance?”

Smiling, she accepted, and they walked through the castle’s corridors hand in hand, until they reached the ballroom. It had become another of their little traditions, to waltz at least once a night. They enjoyed the closeness it brought them, and besides, where else would a woman of Johanna’s station have the chance to dance? It wasn’t like she was invited to noble’s parties all the time, but still it was something that she liked to do and Maven was all too happy to provide her with the opportunity.

The tune played by the enchanted instruments was more melancholic than usual, as if the spirits playing them knew what Maven needed to say. The ceiling high windows showed the gloomy night outside as they danced, and the lit chandelier hanging from the red and silver ceiling made their shadows have their own waltz on the floor. Johanna looked normal, completely at ease as usual and seemingly oblivious to Maven nervousness.

It wouldn’t be fair, Maven figured, to wait until sunrise to talk to her. She had thought it might be best to, so as to spare them one awkward night, but as she pressed the human close to herself and guided her around the ballroom, the notion that she might be acting cruelly arose on her mind. Maybe if Johanna knew, she wouldn’t want to dance with her, or be near her, or do anything else they might have done that night. Besides, Maven didn’t think she’d be able to keep a calm act up for much longer.

“You can’t keep doing this.” She said briskly, as if getting the matter out of her way quickly would make it hurt less. Her voice was kept low enough so as not to echo in the room.

Johanna feigned ignorance, quirking up an eyebrow and looking at her with her sweet brown eyes as if she had no idea what Maven was talking about. The spark in them told her otherwise.

“You can’t keep coming up here.” To break their silent underhand vow felt dangerous, like stepping into a rickety bridge, but it was something that had to be done. She was only continuing what Johanna herself had done on her last visit, tearing a hole through whatever artfulness there still was to this scheme of theirs. “Coming all the way to the castle to see me.”

The only answer Maven had for a good few seconds was the sound of the phantoms playing and the wind howling outside. They didn’t stop dancing, but the vampire had to fight the urge to look away from Johanna’s face, to run from what she’d see there. It might have been just an impression, but for a moment it seemed like Johanna had sent her gaze up, as if praying for patience. Either that or she’d just rolled her eyes.

“Alright, then. In that case, I’d be honoured to have you visit me instead.”

Maven missed a step, catching herself before it could break their rhythm.

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know exactly what you meant.” Johanna snapped, not with rudeness, but rather with something urgent and exasperated about the way she spoke. Clearly, Maven had taken the hint that she hoped for a change in their rapport, and clearly she’d taken it the wrong way, overthinking it like she seemed to do with a frequency. But Johanna would not allow her to push her away. “You meant for whatever reason, you don’t want us meeting again. Very well, I won’t impose myself, but seeing as you seemed perfectly happy with our arrangement, it does get me thinking that maybe I’m not the problem.”

The vampire’s brows came closer together, and a sneer lifted her lips in a way that one of her fangs was visible. She didn’t like to be thwarted, especially not since she knew Johanna’s line of thought was close to the truth, and she might have intervened had the woman not been faster.

“There’s something between us, isn’t there? And we enjoy being with each other, or at least I enjoy being with you. So I’m leaving the decision up to you, Maven. Tomorrow night, my village will celebrate Samhain, and I’d love to have you as my guest; in case you don’t show up, I’ll know you don’t want to keep up this thing that we’ve got. if you do come… I suppose we will cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“This isn’t a matter of what I want.” Maven groaned, asking herself if Johanna couldn’t see she was trying to spare her the disappointment that was sure to come when she realized what exactly Maven was. Not that she’d ever hidden anything from her, but the woman couldn't possibly be hoping for a future with her if she saw who she really was and what she would bring with herself. “Johanna, people will begin to talk-”

Johanna huffed, looking partly amused even at the face of Maven’s distress. They had never spoken to each other like this, so truthfully and openly, and it felt freeing to finally do so.

“People have already begun to talk. That’s what people do, after all.”

Stopping her movements, Maven accidently made Johanna bump into her. For a second, their faces were so close that they would kiss if either of them leaned forward.

“Your village knows?”

Johanna shrugged. “They don’t know. But there are those who began to wonder, naturally.”

It had come to Johanna as no surprise when villagers began to whisper behind her back. It would have been shocking if nobody did, since every morning after a storm she could be seen walking down the infamous vampire’s hill, but that hadn’t been affecting her in the least.  Thanks to her daughter’s adventurous spirit, those who were particularly scared of monsters and magic already weren’t close to their little family, so none of her friends had distanced themselves because of Johanna’s unusual behaviour. As for others, Johanna was having no small amounts of fun hearing their absurd theories about what she did when she was away, and it wasn’t like they could affect her livelihood in any way. She was one of the best seamstresses in town, what were they going to do, walk around naked?

Taking a step backwards to restart the slow dance, the vampire sighed as she struggled to come to terms with Johanna’s calm. “Doesn’t that bother you? If you’re not careful, you’ll become the village’s pariah.”

“Not really. I’m not scared of them, it’s not like they’d burn me alive or anything like that.”

Maven had already run away from enough villagers with stakes to doubt the veracity of that statement.

“And aren’t you scared of me?” She asked somberly, hoping this time Jlhanna would think her answer through. She’d never said out loud that she was a monster, so the question, the act of admitting that she <em>was</em> something to be scared off ought to have had some effect on her. Maven hadn’t expected that effect to be laughter, though.

“Of you?” Johanna replied while still chuckling, with the humor of someone who had been vulnerable near the creature in front of her too many times to be able to believe any of the tales she’d heard. Right from the first night, when she’d genuinely had to seek refuge until morning, she’d seen that Maven wasn’t what it was said she was, and as she had walked out of the castle at sunrise she’d become living proof of it. There was something bewitching about her, though, and it made Johanna keep coming back with ridiculous excuses to see her. The time they spent together only served to prove that Maven wasn’t what she herself thought she was either. “I wouldn't really be here if I were, would I? It’s not like you put your fangs to my throat and threatened me should I not come or anything.”

Maven winced almost imperceptibly at the comment, not liking the reminder of the harm she could bring to Johanna if she so wishes and downright disoriented by the fact that she knew it too, and still insisted on not being afraid.

“You talk so much about Hilda’s taste for befriending monsters, yet you seem keen on doing much worse.”

“This time I really don't know what you mean.” Johanna smiled. “I see no monsters here.”

_#_#_#_

The rest of the night was spent as usual. They soon finished their dancing and went to the library, where Johanna picked a poetry book to read while Maven continued on her tome about scientific discoveries that had been made recently in the capital. Though she knew she was probably reading too much into it, Maven thought that Johanna had chosen to begin a new book instead of finishing the one she’d been reading on her last visit in order to send a message. You’re not getting rid of me that easily was what was written in her face when she asked for permission to sit down with her new book on the armchair next to her.

The woman had wanted to go to sleep eventually. Sometimes she would stay awake with Maven all night, but she’d already need to stay up late for the harvest feast. In the room she often took, small enough to keep in the heat of the fire yet bigger than Johanna’s entire living room, she tucked herself under the white covers while Maven stood awkwardly by the side of the bed.

A smirk on her lips, she patted the spot beside her in invitation. Generally, Maven would go away and come back when Johanna was pretending to be asleep, so she could hold her close and Johanna could pretend she wasn’t holding her back. It was a weird game that they played, but it still felt strange to drop it altogether and climb into bed while Johanna looked at her. Maven didn’t need to sleep, of course, but when the sun rose she still was by the human’s side.

“We’ll be near the main bonfire.” Johanna said as she put her cape over her shoulders in the morning, readying herself to leave. “If you can’t spot me, you’ll be able to find Hilda and she can tell you where i am. She’ll probably be running after some spirit, you see.”

Before Maven could answer, Johanna leaned towards her and kissed her cheek, just before lowering her hood over her face and walking out of the castle’s door.

_#_#_#_

The matter of whether or not she’d accept Johanna’s invitations had been gnawing at her soul the whole day, and nothing she did could shake it off. She’d been so resolute about leaving Johanna be, and yet now she couldn’t seem to keep strong in that decision.

It was only when night fell that she set her foot down, quieting the two conflicting parts of her mind. If Johanna was certain of her choice, why should Maven be the one to back away? Maybe she'd turn out to be a better person than she thought she was. Maybe, if given a chance, she could be what Johanna deserved. It hadn’t happened in centuries, but perhaps, if she gave it a try, she’d be surprised.

All that time, Johanna had gone through the trouble of visiting her. It sounded only fair that she was the one to go to her for once.

It was a quick trip on her bat form. She knew Johanna lived on the village by the west base of the hill, and indeed Maven noticed the bonfire at its center. Landing on the outskirts of the town to come back to her usual form, she kept her gaze down as she walked to the crowd. Usually she wouldn’t be afraid of being recognized by anyone who might have known what she looked like, but not bringing Johanna any trouble mattered more than keeping her own pride in that moment.

Looking for Hilda hadn’t been necessary. Even when she got to the main square, where the air was heavy with the scent of cinnamon spice and pumpkin and the torches and bonfires gave everything a yellowish glow, Maven had been able to spot Johanna. She was near an older woman, with short grey hair, talking to her with a cup of something warm on her hand. 

For one last moment, Maven considered turning back and letting the woman forget about her, probably for her best, but then Johanna looked at her and any thoughts of that sort faded away. She smiled and gestured for Maven to get closer, the woman by her side noticing her and looking at her with curiosity as well, which made Maven wonder if Johanna had told her about her.

“I’m so happy you came!” She said, looking at her like Maven had just saved her life. They both knew this was a matter much greater than of just showing up to an event, and the reality of what had been done, along with the new possibilities for the future that had been spread out in front of them dawned on the two women. 

On the border of her vision, Maven saw the other woman smile at them and walk away after wishing Johanna a good night. Johanna grabbed her guest’s hand, pulling her closer. When she realized she should probably answer, Maven cleared her throat.

“I’m very glad to be here too.”

Johanna’s smile widened.

“What would you like to do first? Hilda said she’ll meet us when supper gets served, but there’s still time until that. We can join the group that is getting offerings ready for the faeries, or we could go see the cunning woman! She’s been telling some amazing stories since morning.”

“Johanna, wait.” Squeezing her hand to get her to stay in place, Maven took a deep breath. Though neither options really pleased her, as she knew a cunning woman would know what she was immediately upon setting eyes on her, and she wasn’t about to leave anything to petulant beings such as faeries, the reason why she had halted Johanna was that there was something she needed to get out of the way.

Her head tilted to the side, Johanna blinked at her as she waited for Maven to continue. The golden light from the fire made her thick lashes cast moon shaped shadows on her skin.

“I know you waited very long for me to… do something. I’m sorry about it, and I want to do this right.”

“You don’t need to apologize. You’re here now.”

“Still.” Maven shrugged, trying to hide her anxiety. “May I kiss you?”

There was no answer before Johanna pressed her lips to hers, making Maven inhale sharply. She’d been thinking about something more private, not wanting to expose the woman, but no complaints would be heard from her part. She took control of the kiss, trying to deepen it in a way that her fangs didn’t hurt her, and hard as it was to maneuver it she couldn’t possibly have felt any better.

“I didn’t cut you, did I?” She asked when they drew apart, even though the grin on Johanna’s face should have been enough of an answer.

“Of course you didn’t.” Johanna was sure there was a blush on her face as she answered giddily, feeling like she was in one of her daydreams. “I told you already, there are no monsters here.”

Maven failed to wipe the dreamy smile off of her face as Johanna guided her through the crowd. It wouldn’t matter that Maven was as a creature as dark as the night around them. If Johanna had enough light to insist on her, they’d make it work.

[fapangel]

What is your counterargument to "Americans have no culture"? Serious long-form answer, no imageposts.

As a Greek-American, I have a unique perspective on this; because I can compare American culture to my ancestral culture; the culture; the culture that gave the world mathematics, natural science, medicine and works of literature that are still mandatory courses of study for high school students world-wide. A culture so vibrant that the Romans themselves just Romanized the names of our Gods and eagerly adopted them as their own; not so much adopting our culture as merging our enlightened ideas of intellectual pursuit with their pragmatic, down-to-earth engineer’s mindset to build works of architecture still revered today for their beauty, functionality and longevity. 

And all that glorious, beautiful culture has done Greece diddly squat. 

Look at it. Look at Greece; a nation impoverished, mocked and maligned; a nation that’s become the Mexico of Europe. That’s not a joke; back in the 70s the rail line between Greece and Germany was called the “Athens express” for how many Greek migrant workers rode it. The EU’s One Currency To Rule Them All guaranteed that someone in the bloc, unable to devalue their currency to manage changes in the global market, would emerge the loser, and once again it was Greece. The Greeks only participated in the 1930s Olympics because wealthy Greeks in America took up a collection and sent it over to them, and Greeks in America are still better off than they are in the homeland. Greece, the nation that invented democracy, soon forgot how to use it; they were ruled by a military dictatorship from 67 to 74 in a tragicomic reversion to the spasms of tyranny that sometimes gripped Athens in Classical Antiquity. Their civil government denies them many important rights; such as firearms ownership, and is only held in check by a combination of Greek’s inborn anarchist spirit and a woefully incompetent civil government that makes Italy’s civil service look like the fucking Swiss. Building a house in Greece is sometimes tantamount to filing a lawsuit due to this. And that’s to say nothing of the “anarchists,” i.e. the fucking communists who still firebomb the occasional building and contribute to a constant, low-level civil unrest significantly worse than anything antifa has managed stateside. 

So tell me, if you can - what has Greece’s vaunted “culture” done for it? What has it done for Greece, with its worm-riddled civil government, its impoverished people, with hoards of Middle Eastern refugees that Europe refuses to deal with? What has it done for Greece, having married into the globalists wet dream of a Unified European State, only to find that it was the designated loser? What has it done for Greece, which, having forfeited its economic independence to the globalist agenda, then finds itself left to defend itself with what little GDP it has left for military expenditures, now that Germany has gutted its own army, France still doesn’t give a single begotten fuck about alliances that don’t immediately impact their own interests, and the UK is worried about scraping the cash together just to defend themselves? Pray tell, what, exactly, does Greece have that America does not? 

America has media empires that resound across the world; the reach of Hollywood is vast. Donald Duck, Porky Pigs, Bugs Bunny are recognized from the Mongolian steppes to the savanna of sub-Saharan Africa. Our cultural influence on the globe is so mighty that Buick is still a big fucking deal in China, despite the globalists having willingly given away our role as world manufacturer to China itself, for the Chinese remember the impoverished days when the Party big-wigs all rolled around in American-built Buicks. American culture is a unique cultural attitude towards violence where a finger-poke counts as assault in many jurisdictions, but lays the necessary groundwork for the only country of its size on Earth where most people have the right to carry a loaded weapon on their person for the purpose of self defense. American culture is a strain of individualism matched only by its innate suspicion of government; a frontiersman attitude, not an inability to work together, as alt-right collectivists allege, but a pragmatic mindset that says nobody is coming to help you, or even nobody is going to help you in time, and thus frees people to help themselves. 

Even the comforts of our modern age cannot dull this; as it is written too deeply in the structure of our laws and the stories of our national mythos; the default reruns on daytime broadcast TV around here are old Westerns like Bat Masterson or Rawhide. One of the most incisive observations of Japanese culture I’ve ever seen I found in The Atlantic of all places; the commentary on how Japanese TV is always played in the background, a passive venue for programming responses that people then execute, word for word, at social events, as the author grouses towards the end. The American version is nowhere near as deliberate, of course; just our culture’s older mythos being churned up like a cow chewing her cud, but it’s there - and it’s all cowboy western ass-kicking or, at night, 80s action-movie asskicking. We mine it because that’s all there is to mine, from the bottom up. 

And what are the effects on Americans? If you strip away innate advantages of provenance and wealth? If you deny him his technology and money and pit him against enemies of homogeneous ethnicity and Strong Ancient Cultures, rifle to rifle, bayonet to bayonet, hand to hand? What emerges then? 

You find the men who took the Omaha and Utah beacheads with only rifles and grenades, after half their armored support floundered in the channel, preparatory bombardments missed their mark, and American faith in technology and firepower overall failed, and miserably. 

You find the Marines who held Edson’s Ridge against the Japanese, emerging victorious from brutal hand-to-hand combat in the dark. 

You find dead men walking who refuse to stop fighting until their last round and their last breath. 

In short, you find victors. Of the governments who’ve opposed us, many no longer exist - and yet we are still here. 

So where, exactly, am I supposed to detect America’s alleged lack of “culture?” The performance of our society in total war has been superlative; even our most astounding fuck-ups demonstrate just how bad an idea it is to piss us off. We have a national mythos of our own, complete with great heroes and their noble quests. We have icons and monuments built by our own hand, often to venerate those heroes. We have our own land; one we had to fight for, bleed for, and tame, one that is ancient and filled with natural wonders of staggering scope and beauty. And we have the same collectivists and fifth-columnists and globalists that Europe has, except they hold less sway here, despite the much-vaunted Culture of Europe’s ancient nations and peoples. 

So where is the tell-tale? Where is the casual link between America’s fortunes and her alleged “lack of culture?” For that matter, where is the casual link between Europe’s cultures and their fortunes? Where is the evidence? What even is the point of that phrase, “America has no culture?” 

The truth is that there is none; it is empty sloganeering of the “just asking questions” kind; trading entirely on trolling witless neoliberals incapable of defending the inconsistencies in their own platforms due to their inability to acknowledge reality. The alt-right never has to defend their platform as a coherent theory, because their only detractors are either fellow collectivists who share their basic premises and care nothing for critique, as they are of the out-group to them - a different collective - and thus not even human. With the lolbertarians trivially easy to keep on the defensive, that leaves nobody, nobody at all, as the actual constituency of the GOP, that have rallied behind Trump would’ve been called centrists thirty years ago and want nothing to do with collectivism, no matter what collective it claims to defend. 

The vast majority of them are full of shit, and it is not hard to prove it. 

[filmista]

Solaris (1972)

“You mean more to me than any scientific truth.”

I had already seen it once, a couple of years ago, without really knowing what I was getting into. What I got to see was an often immensely frustratingly slow philosophical film, which I wanted to stop watching maybe three or four times during the first half hour. But I didn't luckily.

There was something that held me back. I wanted to know how it ended, of course, I also wanted to know how it all really worked, what other ideas the director could still throw at me. 

And I was rewarded - the last 75 minutes of Solaris are just as heavy and slow as the first 90, but then the rewards come: thoughts and ideas are rounded, the coherence throughout the film becomes clear, and the whole experience is crowned with a glorious final shot that can rightfully take its place among the best in film history. 

On one side of the spectrum you have "Louis, I think this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship", on the other side you have this visual rebus, which could mean anything and nothing, which makes you instantly want  to watch it again. 

Solaris is the third film in the short career of director Andrei Tarkovsky, who managed to make impossibly ambitious films in the middle of the Cold War, which radiated a strictly personal vision. 

Tarkovsky was an artist, not so much a filmmaker in the classic sense of the word. He only filmed what he wanted to see for himself, and the question of whether an audience could follow along was apparently of no importance. Heavy stuff. 

The story of Solaris revolves around psychologist Chris Kelvin, who will be sent to a space station near the planet Solaris in the near future. Communication with this station has become problematic, and the past has shown that residents often suffer from psychological problems - they experience hallucinations, claim to see a park or even people who can’t possinbly be there.

Kelvin travels to Solaris and finds only two scientists there; a third recently committed suicide. The whole station is in utter chaos, and the two survivors are vague in their descriptions of what happened. Then, that night, Kelvin suddenly sees his wife, who committed suicide ten years ago. 

Like Dr. Snaut, one of the two remaining scientists, explains, the planet Solaris has the power to physically shape the minds of the space station's inhabitants. Your dreams, your desires, the people you miss are suddenly in front of you, but they are only a reflection of your own inner self. As such, they no longer remember their lives. Kelvin sees his wife again, but their shared past is wiped out.

Whoever wants can, of course, draw up a very profound philosophical treatise from that fact, and Andrei Tarkovsky is clearly someone who wants to. In that respect, at least he delivers a very sincere intellectual honesty: there are hundreds of questions that can be put onto this plot, and the director tries to take them all into account, he doesn’t look for easy answers, and he also doesn’t ignore any problems that his story could create. 

The main themes of the film revolve around illusion and reality. When is a person real? Khari, Kelvin's dead wife, is just a walking, talking projection of Kelvin's unprocessed past, but every person we interact with in our daily lives is only real to the extent that we perceive it that way? 

Reality is in the eye of the beholder, isn't it? Another question: if Khari emerges from the mind of Kelvin, to what extent is his love for and ultimate dependence on her, in fact self-love? Love for one's own mind and its powers? And what was the most fascinating question to me: how does that projection of Khari deal with the knowledge that she doesn’t really exist? 

At least that’s a question that gets an answer on a practical level in the film, and in a very emotional manner: Khari commits suicide again, only to reappear a few moments later, as soon as Kelvin needs her. 

That way, Kelvin condemns himself to see his wife commit suicide again and again, just like the first time, when she really did. And he condemns Khari to evolve to the same state of despair over and over again - or doesn't it count, since she's not real?

Does all that sound pretentious? Then you should see the film, after all, I didn’t make this all up myself. Solaris is indeed a very pretentious film, with dialogues that often consist of only philosophical theories and with scenes that seem to be stretched on far too long. In this way, Tarkovsky demands a great effort from the audience, just as Kubrick did with 2001 a film often compared to Solaris. 

That comparison is not entirely true in my opinion: it was also a science fiction film that may seem challenging even boring at first sight, which was often difficult to follow, but where 2001 resolutely looks into the future to find out where people are going and why , Tarkovsky is more interested in how we deal with our past - where do we come from, and can we ever rise above it by finally calming the ghosts of our past?

Technically there is no denying that Solaris is a masterpiece: Tarkovsky's stylistic choices, his framing, his endlessly long shots, his graceful camera movements, the design of the production etc ... It's all enough to keep every cinephile glued to their seat. As a visual experience, this is nothing short of brilliant, even if relatively few special effects are involved - Tarkovsky really only does it with his camera, with his inventiveness. That’s an achievement that can leave you silent for a day.

He resolutely refuses to accommodate his audience, as if saying to us “You guys come here, it’s just as far.” Maybe the same distance, but the path from public to artist is always much more difficult than the other way around, of course. 

Solaris is a work that is almost hermetically sealed, you really have to look for an entrance - but once you find it, you’ll be flooded with intriguing ideas. In return for that effort, you get a glorious image of the human psyche, you get questions and possible answers thrown into your lap that you can discuss for another month - and that's one of the great things cinema can bring about: that that kind of emotion is provoked. That you get an impetus to thoughts, ideas and theories that you may never have thought about before. That you view the world in a different way.

“See, I love you. But love is a feeling we can experience but never explain. One can explain the concept. You love that which you can lose: Yourself, a woman, a homeland. Until today, love was simply unattainable to mankind, to the earth. Maybe we are here to experience people as a reason for love.”

@purecinema @mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves​ 

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#1)

Right, monkey brain said no sleep no rest, only suffering at the hands of med.

I am going to start with the first episode of S2: Soul Care. Reasoning? I need to check if Latham references Ava in his first interaction with Connor.

If my memory serves me right, when Connor is passed over to Latham for his fellowship, Latham says that he was not his first choice. In fact, his first choice was a brilliant surgeon from South Africa. In the first episode of S2, a season where Ava Bekker is only introduced with one line at the end of the last episode.

If I remember correctly and Latham does actually say that in the first ep of s2, it will be huge for the continuity (and my theory that I came up with today, if you’re interested in following this you should really read that really long post that came a little before this where the basis of the theory is laid out). 

Also in rewatching this I see more of Sarah which, again, I have not seen in two years, and she was the reason I became invested in the show, and the reason I stopped watching after she left.

And all of this even before I start the episode.

There are so many emotions and thoughts running through my brain it literally hurts. I think i’m getting a headache. I’m already really regretting this, this cannot be healthy for me.

(btw, this will basically be a train of thought type thing, I’ll do my best to keep it coherent)

- omg its starting

- i completely forgot how s1 ended but its not importnat in anyway

- just, why are they in a helicopter

- how fast does the episode move ive forgotten and i need to know

-JESUS CHRIST SO DRAMATIC

- THE BEGINNING WITH WILL WHY

- it is at this point where I apologize to all those who made it this far bc we’re literally not even 30 seconds in yet

- i just have a lot of med thoughts

- oh god save me

- i am laughing hysterically

- JESUS CHRIST THE APRIL TB STORYLINE AND TATE WTF

- god that feels like a lifetime ago it was relevant holyshit

-remember when she was pregnant?

- literally what have I missed

- side note, i really like the cup april drinks out of.

-THERE SHE IS

-SARAH

-SHE’S HERE

-and she’s a barista

-literally wtf is this show

-and the dramatic music is still going literally chill man god

-THE WAY SARAH SMILES HOLY SHITTTT come on man there was literally no way i’d survive this but fuck not even a minute in...

- okay but i never understood charles’ family scenario but this is already too fucking long for a minute in so i hope we can just skip past that

-hahahah sharon’s fucking divorce? holy shit, this is too dramatic for the first ep literally save me (at least she acts well)

-yeah the one thing I will say about med (thats a lie ive already said a hundred but yk) is that for the crap storylines and all, the actors take what they’re given and give it their all and i appreciate it so much

-the helicopter’s number is N365UCC and just... succ

-ethans bird (!)

-also the fact that’s so big for ethan to be chief resident is so weird to me. like the last medical drama I watched was greys and they are all like grizzled veterans and have been doing that stuff for actual decades and i tend to put med and greys on like the same level bc they are the only medical dramas ive watched but.. holy crap the people on med are so young?? half their main cast is med students and residents. when nearly every main character on greys is a department head. its wild.

-proud of ethan. proud of my boy (did you know that adam jacobs who played aladdin on broadway was in a s3 episode? fun facts) (fun fact: did you know that ava is the only main character on the show who’s status is now deceased? I’ll shut up now.)

-oh my god i say roland buck III’s name and GOD noah jesus

- i find noah incredibly annoying, especially bc he tries to overshadow reese (my fav) but also just bc hes spoiled [that thing that said that one of the biggest mistakes med made was not having sarah get the emergency med residency at the end of s1 comes to mine, and the fact that noah got his residency easy peasy] - but, i will say that the moment at the end of this season where noah and reese dance together at the party is very adorable. (pre reesker brain showing lmao I really did love sarah with my whole heart) (moreover my snapchat memories were filled with just recordings of reese scenes lmaooooo)

-okay at this point I need to stop once i get to the potential ava thing bc what is happening we’re not even two minutes in why is this so long. (so many thoughts)

- i find will annoying but,,, he is kind of nice to look at. and what i mean is like facial acting (i am a lesbian). like. just. don’t speak. and when he’s being a good character he’s fine. it’s very few and very far between ig

-natalie annoys me so much and shes only had one line, and it wasn’t even a character line, it was mainly exposition.

-EW

-FUCKING EW

-ITS CONNOR HE’S HERE. god i forgot what he looked like in red scrubs and his poofy hair. child compared to s3 and s4. hopefully we see latham soon so we all don’t have to suffer through this. and he looks so angsty. he definetly glowed up in the later seasons.

- i have no clue how to spell definetly. I am guessing literally everytime.

-latham please come and end this all.

-oh haha there’s downey hes dead.

-okay so i actually watched s1 after i watched s2 which is so weird to think about. like that means that i liked s2 so much that i BOUGHT THE DVD FOR S1. yeah. I liked it that much (it really only means I was that much of a simp for sarah). but it also means that technically i watched s1 after i met ava?? like i honestly had NO CLUE what was in my future. did young me ever think she was going to stay up late at night, avoiding history hw while analyzing a defunct character from this show on a whim? a character i was super annoyed with at the beginning? who has no become a huge part of my personality? honestly? no. no she did not.

-and the story with downey was so jarring. and the story with zanetti. like i think i first started watching with the first ep of s2 (the one im talking about rn) and i was a bit lost. so going back and watch s1 to like connect the dots. but i never expected the dots to look like that. its like each season of this show is a completely different show from all the other seasons. like i’ve said before, this show is a headache. but literally latham please come and end this for now.

-GOD CONNOR LOOKS SO YOUNG WHAT THE HELL thats so weird lmaooooo

- like i had absolutely no clue who downey was going into this. and they they started talking like ‘oh yeah he killed his attending’ and i was just like ‘damn bro ill cheers to that’

- that’s literally ava’s first line actually. “i heard your girlfriend went insane and you murdered your attending.” - which was why she was hated at first. that was literally her first line to connor which is like, so hilariously rude that it was instantly iconic.

-also HAHAHAHAH CUE FUCKING ANGST ABOUT CONNOR HURTING EVERYONE AROUND HIM WTF BRO THE EFFECT YOU HAVE ON PEOPLE

- but i’m also sad now. --- “I heard your girlfriend went insane.” Oh. Oh, sweetie. Ava... No. --- but why does s2 ava (all two lines) foreshadow s4 ava in so many ways. like literally what were the writers on.

-baghdad.

-ah yes. the return of baghdad. been a long time since i heard that one, but it is easily one of my favorite running things about med. its just a little detail but the nick name is like perfect. (when i read fanfic where the chars are actually doing doctor stuff in the hospital it makes me light up) the WORLD BUILDINGGGGG. but whatever

-this is the girl who has the fake baby right? that was a really good ep (bc sarah content. can you see my favorites? for the same reason the one where the girl has split personalities easily ranks high with me.) oh wait this is the one where the dad like dies but then comes back for a split second to see his grand child. there’s not really a lot I can say about that, but the fact that i remember it vividly is... weird.

-okay but I actually love the ED in this show. I love how the show is centered around the ED and not the OR like greys. its fast paced, you see a lot about the characters really quickly (one of the reason’s connor’s intro to the hospital in the pilot is certified iconic in my mind [his interactions with will are gold]). the team works well together (usually, when things are good. - which is another reason I hated the show more as time went on. The personal lives interfered more and more and more with their work as time went on. it got so annoying). but like right here will just calls maggies name and maggie is just On It. I love it. I love the fast pace. it’s why this show got me to come back. so many things happen, it overloads my brain, like the way a video game works y occupying all of your attention.

-when is the dad gonna pass out i’m just waiting

-AHAHAHAHAHA JEFF NOOOOO. what even was the deal with jeff that storyline annoyed me so much I never got it. he was friends with nat’s husband (who died) and they were both named Jeff? and she actually ended up getting with Jeff a few times?

- the more you watch med and see how the characters get with each other, the more jaded you become

-omg they’re transferring the girl to the bed i love it when they count

-maggie was great but from what i heard/read they ruined her character too??? just not the same

-lmao only real g’s remember the chicago fire backdoor med pilot (if you want an explanation ask me lmao it was a ride)

- i was a real med simp bc I bought that episode on apple video.

-ahahaha this is so stupid. Jeff tries to do things and Will (being a fucking asshole and jealous, doesnt’ let him). he’s a med student let him fucking learn. also i remember why i hated will

-okay but if you look at greys vs. med, greys literally gives their med students no rights. scratch that. they give they’re interns little to no rights. (i only watched the last three seasons bc lesbian, but in those seasons they introduce the bottom of the totem pole, the sub I’s, who are a step ahead of med students, yet they are jokes on the show.) its just a weird juxtaposition is all.

-”lungs are wet.” dramatic music intensifies.

-OKAY BUT I LITERALLY FORGOT NATALIE SPECIALIZED IN PEDS. LIKE I COMPLETELY 100% FORGOT. HOLY SHIT THATS SO FUNNY i can’t believe in my mass hyperfixation i forgot, just more proof that she doesn’t deserve anything.

-why did will make nat do that call? also idk why but is it weird to anyone else when the characters call each other but just.. their names.

-ahahahah i laugh literally everytime i remember that will is supposed to be in charge like he is threatened by anything that MOVES. (also more juxtapositon to greys bc here the attendings are treated as a joke!)

- hly shit i just remember monday mourning and god damn the angst literally never takes a day off but whatever.

- i dont usually get like this but the dad’s acting here is actually making me sad lol. Usually i get annoyed when family members get emotional (im weird uhhhh)

-why did we have to watch the tube being put in for so long - med is so dramatic this fucking show whyyyy

- i bet u the dad is gonna pass out

-oh ig not oops

-OKAY FUCK ME THAT LITERALLY ONLY TOOK US TO THE TITLES HOW DO I HAVE THESE MANY FUCKING THOUGHTS.

-wait latham introduction we may just be able to call it here.

-haha i fucking hate him (connor). he just... comes off so fake-charming its annoying. i cant get over it lmao

-okay but literally every gives connor shit and I am here for it. Latham: “did you kill him?”

- it is literally so funny but annoy how connor throws hands with literally everyone in his path (like dude just chill come onnn)

-okay. okay. okay. finally the part i was waiting for.

- Latham: I preferred a young woman from Groote Schuur, but I was outvoted.

That’s an actual quote, from Latham. For those who are wondering, Groote Schuur is a famous hospital in, you guessed it, South Africa. This is where I’m calling the episode. This is all I needed.

I just want to restate. This is the first episode of season 2. Ava Bekker is introduced to the show in the last episode of season 2. What does this mean, my friends? It means everything.

For those of you who stuck through to the end, I am very thankful. Here we have probably the first piece of evidence to my theory, at least chronologically.

I, personally, think it’s absurd I remembered this point, but I did. That point, that line, presently, watching this episode with no idea of what the future holds, is only there to tell us that Latham and Connor are not going to agree. But this is the single greatest piece of foreshadowing med has ever done.

Med has never planned anything. I feel confident when I say that. Look at their storylines. They are literally on fire, and every decision the characters make reads like the writers going ‘we have no idea how we made it this far, we thought we would get stopped like ten steps ago.’

When has med ever planned things more than a few episodes in advanced, honestly? Almost never, and going a full season sitting on a plot point, that’s major. This was the first time med has ever planned something miles in advance.

In all honestly, yes I am probably giving the med writers a lot more credit than they deserve. It’s quite possible that as the season progressed they just decided connor needed a new love interest or at least a new dynamic, so they could have just easily looked back and thought ‘oh, hey, here’s a fun little thing we said earlier in the season, wouldn’t it be fun if it paid off?’ That could be true.

Here’s why it probably isn’t. The med writers have no respect for their own continuity. you really think that, in order to come up with a whole new character, they went back to the first episode of the season and paid off a line that is said in less than 2 seconds? no way. Bull. Shit.

honestly, it is probably equally unlikely that either of these things happened. The med writers don’t look back at their story. It’s true, but they also don’t plan things in advance either.

here’s the thing, the more i write, the more absurd it starts to sound. Yeah. Sure. the med writers sat on a character for an entire season, that’s totally a thing that happened and not sarcasm. When pigs fly. everyone knows med is impulsive and messy. But what I am saying is that they planned one thing. One thing.

Ava has an accent. That was a commitment. A pretty uncommon one too. South Africa is such an out of the box choice that god its barely on the map. It asks a lot of someone to act hard while also doing an uncommon accent. If the med writers just decided they needed to give connor a new dynamic, they could have made it a n y o n e. Yeah, sure it would have been nice to have the latham dynamic with the new character, but it would have been so much easier to just create a new character that doesn’t have such a commitment. We all know people who play opposite of Connor Rhodes do not stay around that long.

There is absolutely no reason Connor’s s3 love interest had to be the girl from South Africa. It could have literally been anyone. They could have kept Robin on. They could have made the new character not have so many specific requirements.

At this point, I’m pushing this really hard. Yeah, obviously Ava was planned from the beginning of s2. She had to be. It’s way too specific to be anything else.

What I’m pointing out here is med has never done that before. (at least to my knowledge, if i’m wrong please tell me i don’t want to be a fool) They have never had such a concrete plan for a character, so much as to tease them a full season before they were introduced.

I’m saying, that Ava was special. She was the only character who was teased ahead of her arrival. The one who they knew they wanted, other than the originals, and honestly saying the ‘knew what they wanted to do with the originals’ is being generous. But Ava was different. They had big plans for Ava.

It’s undeniable. Ava was the only character who was planned and teased ahead of her arrival. Ava has such a different style and character than anyone else on the show. She was always planned to be, even when she was just being teased, a rival to connor, meaning she could stand her own against him (or without him).

Now of course, the med writers forgot this when writing s4 and s5. But for the purposes of the important things, all that really matters are the two mentions in s2, and what happens in s3. (for the theory at least).

In conclusion: think about how odd it is that Ava was the only character that was planned over the course of the show. Like sure the characters are planned, but never this far in advance. Med writers don’t really plan anything. I would be shocked if they did anything but through a dart at a spinning wheel. But they had plans for Ava, and they had plans for s3, when she was good.

Think about how odd it is that the med writers had a character planned from the start of s2, that they sat on for a whole season. They never, ever did something so slow and deliberate. Never. It goes against their formula. Like a fucking shark, they have to be moving or they die, at least in their heads. But Ava was always a change to the formula. They had a plan for s3.

that’s it for now. we will see what happens when i watch the last episode of s2.

read the next parts:

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra

[sparklyjojos]

THE SAIMON FAMILY CASE recaps [11/13]

In which Ajiro finally tells us what’s going on via a long Wordplay Hell, we learn many things about Tensui and the Saimon family, and the author won’t let you forget how much he loves Maijo Otaro. [tw: talk of anti-Korean violence]

--

On September 1st, the detectives are in the middle of their usual work in the Club (though Ajiro for some reason seems to be paying more attention to a TV documentary looking back on the Great Kanto Earthquake). They learn from a phone call that Hyousen’s wife, Shima, died of heart failure. It seems that she grew sick from exhaustion while helping his husband manage the entire Fujita-gumi after Kyuuzou’s passing. It’s worth repeating that her death did not happen on the 19th.

After the funeral, Ajiro heads alone to Hiroshima Prefecture where he was born. Kirigirisu learns from more knowledgeable Arito Tarou that Ajiro actually pays regular visits there, checking on a child that was orphaned during the Ajiro Family Murder Case. Arito doesn’t intend to share any more details.

--

“You know, Kirigirisu,” Ajiro says once he comes back on September 5th, “there’s a lot of people around me who have the kanji for “horse” (馬) in their names.”

Ajiro’s father, who died during that mysterious Murder Case, was called Souma (壮馬). Incidentally, the Tsukumo family member who took care of the hammer sharks was also called Souma (蒼馬), and he had brothers Tsushima (対馬) and Ranma (乱馬). That orphan that Ajiro regularly checks on also has some sort of a name ending in -ma (Kirigirisu isn’t told the exact name, as the Ajiro Family Murder Case is still a confidential L Crime). Even the building where Nihon Tantei Club is located is called Madano (馬多野).

Ajiro doesn’t say what he actually means by pointing this out. Instead he makes a phone call to the journalist Uyama Hideo. Uyama has been investigating the Shiroyasha Case closely and confirms that it’s still going on. He acknowledges with his usual sighing that (oh…) it might be dangerous for him to investigate any further, but (oh, oh…) he’s determined to get to the bottom of this.

After the call, Ajiro says that Uyama would make a fine detective, as his words hid an important hint.

“What word leaves the deepest impression when you listen to Uyama?” he asks Kirigirisu.

“Do you mean… all that oh he’s doing?”

“That’s right. That oh is the key to the case. Or rather, the fact that it’s a repeating oh, oh. Not only that, Uyama’s presence itself hints at the secret behind the case.” Ajiro makes sure they won’t be heard by others in the office before continuing.

First, he explains the Rising Flag Card, the illusion in which a spectator had to choose one of the flags. The truth is, the spectator assisting in the illusion was cooperating with Koyomi—but in a different way than one may expect. He wasn’t a planted assistant, but a so-called impromptu stooge. First, he was chosen from the audience using a quiz that would require a certain level of adult intelligence. The spectator would get on the stage, be asked to select a card, and choose the exact card Koyomi wanted once he saw the magic words written on the table.

The magic words were simply “Please choose the flag of Japan!” and a promise of getting a cool souvenir if he cooperated. Secrets really are that simple sometimes.

For his next explanation, Ajiro pulls out that 500 yen coin gimmick out of his pocket—but wait, why does he have it? Gensui made the coin disappear at the end of his last lecture!

“Kirigirisu, do you still not understand the method even after I’ve just explained it? I was the impromptu stooge in Gensui’s illusion.”

Ajiro performs Change The World: he puts the coin on top of his open left palm, moves his right hand above it, the coin disappears in an instant… and just a moment later falls on the table from above.

The method is once again simple. Ajiro first threw the coin up into his right hand using a sleight called the Muscle Pass. Then, when Kirigirisu was paying attention to the magically empty left hand, Ajiro simply threw the coin in the air.

When Gensui performed Change The World for them, he threw the coin to Ajiro, who hid it in his pocket. As we remember, Ajiro was also an impromptu stooge in the sponge ball multiplication illusion. The magician making someone their accomplice just by giving them a right look is a very fun aspect of magic.

It stops being fun when a similar technique is used by a murderer.

“When we were given the investigation request, in a sense we became assistants chosen from the audience to participate in the illusion. I can’t ignore the possibility that we unwittingly became impromptu stooges, helping the magician do exactly what he wanted.”

“Then… we, who represent the audience, were intentionally shown Yumeji’s murder, were shown that we could be together with the suspects all day and a case would still happen, all so their alibi would be demonstrated to the rest of the audience—the rest of the world…”

“The reason why I reveal the impromptu stooge secret to you today is because I finally decided to confront Gensui. He has to either be the culprit, or at least be involved with them in some way. Uyama’s words inspired me. You see, one time when he said his usual oh, oh, I heard it as houou.”

Houou… and what on earth does that mean? A phoenix? A pope? An emperor turned monk? Kirigirisu can’t guess.

Ajiro doesn’t explain it yet, but adds that Uyama used other hints as well. For example, one time when talking to Ajiro, he mentioned this “Maya” author that he wanted to help debut—not an actual person, rather his concept of an ideal writer. In fact, he dreamed of two writers like that and even already created pen names for them.

One writer’s name would be inspired by the name Uyama Hideo, an anagram of which was maya-o-dehiu, so basically Maya wo debiu— (“let’s have Maya debut”).

The other dream writer, the true personification of Uyama’s ideals and concepts, a writer-y ultimate weapon of sorts, would get Uyama’s oh put in front of the common first name Tarou. Uyama would want for that writer to evoke strong feelings about concepts he loves beyond anything else, ma (“evil influence” or “devil”, also "magic") and ijou (“strangeness”). It would be a bit difficult to make a coherent writer nickname out of all that, but Uyama still longs to find that Outarou of Mai and jou.

...but we’re getting off-topic here. As for this ideal “Maya” writer, Uyama once told Ajiro what seemed like drunken nonsense at the time:

“Oh… I’d like to meet that Maya soon. He’s like a prince for me. Oh... oh, Maya the prince...”

Ajiro still refuses to explain just what on earth could this mean. Instead, he talks about another illusion Gensui showed them, the one with the gimmick pen seemingly penetrating a bill. It seemed like it would work with any place on any normal bill, which leaves two questions. One, why was Gensui so against using a 1000 yen bill? Two, when he did perform the illusion with the 10,000 yen bill from Ajiro, was it just an accident that he aimed the pen between the portrait and the watermark, instead of just having it go through the portrait for a better effect?

As for that second question... maybe there’s a reason why Gensui wouldn’t be able to pierce the portrait. Ajiro shows Kirigirisu two bills, 5,000 yen and 10,000 yen. Both look normal, both with Prince Shoutoku on them as usual, nothing strange.

“I don’t know if Gensui was even aware of what he was doing,” Ajiro says, “but the reason why he couldn’t pierce through the portrait was because he would be stabbing an image of himself. The true identity of Soga Tensui is Shoutoku Taishi.”

Which sounds completely nuts.

But Ajiro seems completely serious, so Kirigirisu has to accept it for now.

“So when you jumped to the occasion to lend Gensui the bill, you were aiming to test this theory?”

“Precisely. The other bill also has its own meaning.” Ajiro points to the 1,000 yen bill that Gensui and his family didn’t want to use, the one with the politician Itou Hirobumi.

Kirigirisu once again has no idea what this means. However, he now realizes that those strange words Ajiro once said about “ambassadors” (taishi) and having “ambition” (also taishi) may have been him dropping clues.

Ajiro starts a lengthy explanation of his reasoning.

--

Shoutoku Taishi is famous for introducing Buddhism to Japan and thus becoming a religious leader of sorts—the word for such a religious leader would be houou.

Uyama’s words about “Oh, oh, Maya the prince” were a hint about “Oh, U-maya-do prince”. Prince Shoutoku’s actual name was Prince Umayado (or Umayato)—Umayado no Ouji or Umayado no Miko (lit. “the Stable Door Prince”).

As for Ajiro’s claim that Uyama’s existence in itself pointed to the solution, the name Uyama Hideo is an anagram of umaya (w)o hide, “came from the stable”. Legend has it that Prince Shoutoku was born in front of a stable, which is where his name Umayado no Ouji came from.

Also, Uyama had that other nickname, Hideomi (日出臣), the kanji possibly referring to “the (land of) rising sun” (日出処) and “minister, subject” (臣). Prince Shoutoku famously wrote in a letter to the Emperor of China: From the sovereign of the land of the rising sun to the sovereign of the land of the setting sun.

Okay, but all those wordplays just link Prince Shoutoku to Uyama. Where's the relation between Shoutoku and Soga Tensui?

First of all, that shrine in which Tensui loves to hide is called Shouryouin (聖霊院). That’s suspiciously similar to Shouryoue (聖霊会), a ceremony held on the anniversary of Prince Shoutoku’s death in Shitennou-ji, a temple built on Shoutoku’s own request.

Oh, and another temple connected to him, Houryuu-ji, has a part actually called Shouryouin—a hall dedicated to Prince Shoutoku’s soul. Another part of Houryuu-ji is Yumedono, the Hall of Dreams that looks highly similar to Tensui’s Shouyrouin and is associated with—you guessed it—Prince Shoutoku.

Shitennou-ji and Houryuu-ji have one Sword of Seven Stars each in their collections, both weapons allegedly having belonged to Prince Shoutoku centuries ago. Shiroyasha’s sword looks awfully similar to them.

As for that entire spiel about names that have a “horse” in them—it also fits the name of Shoutoku’s associate Soga no Umako (蘇我馬子). The historic Soga clan was probably where the name Soga Tensui came from (although it uses different kanji). Considering that Prince Shoutoku had some blood connections to the historic Soga family, he would be a Soga himself.

Kirigirisu can’t help but notice the entire theory is flimsy. What next, are we going to claim that the Club’s own four Young Shitennou are a hint about Shitennou-ji?

Ajiro seems to think that is the case. In fact, if we look at those four, we have two whose names resemble temple names (Raiou-ji and Yakushi-ji), Mikuruma whose first name is read Noritaka, but spelt just like Houryuu(-ji) (法隆), and then Gotou, whose real name is Gojuunotou, “five-storied pagoda”, just like one of the buildings of Horyuu-ji.

“Kirigirisu, meaningful coincidences—messages from God, you could call them—are scattered all throughout this world. It's an undeniable fact that Uyama and our detectives all really exist and are named the way they are. Obviously it's not because some writer came and gave all characters of his novel convenient names. Yes, I know that my grandfather’s reasoning method, mushindenshin, is defined by being able to access “godly knowledge” by freeing oneself from obstructive thoughts, but the phrase doesn’t refer to any actual god. Just to detecting those coincidences—those godsend messages.”

[Mushin can mean both the Buddhist concept of becoming free of obstructive thoughts, as well as simply innocence; I feel like the first definition fits Soujin better, but the second one may fit the book more, considering how much we talked about the relation of childhood innocence and magic.]

Ajiro agrees that even though all the coincidences point to there being a connection between Prince Shoutoku and Soga Tensui, it’s a weak proof. However—

“Kirigirisu, all of this doesn't mean that Soga Tensui actually is Prince Shoutoku. I myself don’t believe that’s the case. What matters is whether or not Soga Tensui himself believes it.”

If Soga Tensui really is convinced he’s Shoutoku, then surely it's not just a coincidence that the Sword of Seven Stars was used as a murder weapon.

When Ajiro talked with Ryuuguu Jounosuke, the boy didn’t want to answer the questions about whether the name Shakuya was related to the Big Dipper, and whether the word shaku had another important meaning. His silence proved that it was indeed a part of yossha no ojisan’s secret. Ajiro explains that aside from a dipper, the word shaku can also mean a ritual baton often seen in portraits of noblemen… for example, held by Prince Shoutoku in his portrait on the bill.

Another hint is that when they met all the children that one day in the winter, Tousen Matoki was pretending to be Prince Shoutoku, as if he got that idea from somewhere. Ajiro thinks it highly possible that Soga Tensui, for whatever reason, told only the children about his “real” identity being Prince Shoutoku. It’s likely that adult members of the family like Taishi have no idea about his belief.

Speaking of whom, Taishi’s first name is of course yet another coincidence leading to Shoutoku Taishi.

But back to what Jounosuke told them, the phrase yossha no ojisan was also a clue: ojisan is similar to ouji-san, “prince”. The young wordician could definitely mix those two meanings together as a form of wordplay.

Then what does the yossha part mean? Ajiro thinks that it was the result of young Jounosuke substituting a better known word for an unusual name: Yoshua…. also known as Jesus.

“Oh my god!” Kirigirisu shouts when he realizes just what that means.

“God indeed,” Ajiro gives him a wry smile. “Jesus Christ himself. Soga Tensui believes himself to be not only Prince Shoutoku, but also Jesus.”

What kind of a ridiculous sect thing did they stumble into?! Prince Shoutoku and Jesus at once…

Ajiro explains that the concept of Shoutoku and Jesus possibly being connected isn’t that new. There’s even a fringe hypothesis that they were one and the same person. After all, there is no definite proof of Shoutoku even being a real historical figure, so maybe all those legends about him were created later. As for Jesus, there’s so many theories about him that some Japanese people insist that he avoided crucifixion by switching places with his younger brother, escaped to Japan, and was buried in the quiet village Shingo. Soga Tensui no doubt made use of that vagueness of history to prop up his belief.

And here’s where another part of their conversation with Jounosuke comes into play. Ajiro asked him about the word juuku, then about Golgo 13. Both these names actually mean the same thing. Golgo 13 references Golgotha, the place of Jesus’s crucifixion. With juuku, you have to imagine both its kanji written vertically, 十 on top of 九... which, if you squint, may look like a cross on top of a hill—Golgotha.

What’s more, nineteen (十九) refers to when all the deaths of the Case happen: the 19th day of every month.

The Saimons live in Shimane Prefecture, the location of the legendary Izumo known as the Land of Gods. According to legends, it's the place where gods would gather (though they were much different gods than Jesus). Their exact gathering place is said to be the shrine Izumo-taisha, more specifically a part of it called Juukusha (十九社)—yet another juuku.

Ajiro at first thought Juukusha could be the only inspiration behind Saimon Juku’s name, but the Golgotha hypothesis was more likely. After all, the phrase juujika no kyuu (“the hill of the Cross”) could be shortened to juu-kyuu, which can be written down as 十九.

There's still one other hidden meaning that Ajiro discovered in words.

The “Land of Gods” (神の国) that Fujita Daisen so passionately spoke about might mean something other than Izumo. When using alternate readings for the kanji of that phrase, kan for “god” (神) and koku for “land” (国), together it would make kan(no)koku = kankoku. The land Daisen wanted to see before his death was kankoku, South Korea (or maybe Korea in general).

“But why would Daisen want to see Korea so much?” Kirigirisu asks.

“Because Korea is where his family is from.”

“Do you mean that Fujita-gumi had a lot of Koreans in it and Daisen’s father Kyuuzou married one of them?”

“No. The Fujitas aren’t of Korean descent. I meant that many people from the other side of Daisen’s family, the Saimons and their relatives, are Zainichi Korean.”

Kirigirisu is utterly baffled by this statement. Didn’t Ajiro himself tell him about how the Saimons had been living in Tsuwano for seven centuries?

Well, Ajiro himself didn’t know the entire truth back then, and what he told Kirigirisu wasn’t technically a lie: the Saimon lineage does reach that far.

However, all three Tamakos are Korean.

As Kirigirisu forgot a lot of basic history due to his amnesia, Ajiro gives him a much needed lecture. [This is told in the same way Ajiro tells it; possible biases are on him and the author.]

--

First, we have to take a look at how the relations between Korea and Japan looked like over the last hundred years. After the incident of 1875 when Japanese soldiers attacked Korean Ganghwa Island, Japan pressed Korea to sign the unequal Japan-Korea Treaty of 1876.

Near the end of the 19th century, a lot of Koreans moved to work in Japan. Among them were namsadang, groups of travelling entertainers performing various circus acts. The three Tamakos were a part of one such group. They did a lot of shows in Japan’s coal mine towns, and it happened that two owners of these mines—a Tsukumo and a Tousen—along with their Saimon friend set their eyes on the three Tamakos, and then essentially bought them for marriage. The love-struck men used their riches to establish the Soga Tenju Troupe for their wives.

Soon, things started getting worse for Korea, until finally Japan annexed it with the Japan-Korea Treaty of 1910.

Korean people faced many human rights violations at that time. Japanese police killed thousands of Korean protesters during the March 1st Movement in 1919. Thousands more were massacred in the aftermath of the Great Kanto Earthquake in 1923, when false rumors claimed that Korean residents would poison wells or commit arson.

During World War II, huge numbers of Koreans were forcibly relocated to Japan to serve as laborers and soldiers, and at least a hundred thousand Korean women were brought into sex slavery as “comfort women”. The policy called soushi-kaimei came into effect, pushing Korean citizens to change their names to Japanese ones in order to facilitate assimilation. Teaching the Korean language and history in schools was eventually prohibited, and visits to Shinto shrines were compulsory no matter the faith.

After the War, Soviet Union occupied the north of Korea, while USA occupied the south. In 1950, North Korea invaded South Korea attempting to unify the country under its rule. The Korean War reached a stalemate in 1953, leaving the two Koreas still separate. 

(The narration, which unlike our detectives knows the future, adds that this armistice is still in effect in the early 2000s, but efforts are being made to officially end the Korean War, for example with the 2000 Inter-Korean Summit.)

[And we, the readers from 2020, may add that even more efforts to resolve the conflict are being made lately, many summits between the leaders of both Koreas and US going on since 2018.]

--

“Then… boss, could the motive behind the Saimon Family Case have something to do with the past events between Japan and Korea?” Kirigirisu asks, moved to tears by all the bloody history he just heard about for the first time (or at least for the first time since his amnesia).

“I can’t say for sure, but the possibility is high.”

Then… If we assume Soga Tensui really is the culprit, what exactly is the motive? It's true that both Gensui and Tensui are Japanese by descent [as in, none of the Tamakos and presumably no other Korean person can be found among their close ancestors, see the family tree]. Then again, Tensui’s closest ones are descended from one of the Tamakos; his wife Miku could count as being third generation Zainichi, and his son Juku as fourth generation. [I'm not sure if the term Zainichi would actually apply here, but this is how Ajiro uses it. Note that by his definition, Nemu and Yomiko are also fourth generation.]

Out of the twelve victims of the Case so far, nine were of Korean descent (the remaining three being Daisen, Daisetsu and Kyuuzou).

The question is once again: who is targeting who?

In Kirigirisu's mind, it looks more and more like Soga Tensui isn’t actually the culprit, but one of the targets. Someone from outside may be trying to destroy the entire giant family.

However, Ajiro still seems certain that Soga Tensui is involved in the Case.

Ajiro continues his explanations. Everyone from the family except for the three Tamakos is by law considered Japanese in the family register, and the entries for each Tamako were apparently lost after the war. Basically, there is no easy way for an outsider to learn about their roots. As a part of a marginalized and often persecuted group, the Saimons prefer to keep their identity a secret from everyone, even from close friends like Ajiro.

Ajiro only learned about the family’s roots after Shiranui's detective friend dug out the information, but he had already suspected it based on multiple clues.

For example, the reason why the Circus received a warm welcome touring between coal mine towns could be in part because a lot of mine workers were Korean.

All those posters in the local bar portrayed celebrities of Korean descent, and the bar owner was Zainichi himself—in fact, all of the members of the hiking club except Daisen were. The word for that hiking club, sengakukai (山岳会), could even be a pun on “Korean mountain association” (鮮岳会).

Nagasaki-kai, the group that was once friendly towards Fujita-gumi, had a lot of Koreans in their midst, and their name could also be either a pun or a coincidence. “Nagasaki” wasn't written the same way as the city, but used another spelling (長先) that could also be read as chousen, “Korea”. As Ajiro explains, many Koreans in Japan enter yakuza because of their life circumstances. Many work in places such as pachinko parlors or yakiniku restaurants, and it’s very possible that it was the good relations with Nagasaki-kai that allowed non-Koreans Hyousen and Daisen to be granted supervision of respectively the parlors and the restaurants.

Another clue is related to the Saimon family’s two dogs, Koma and Ria. The name Koma comes  from komainu, the stone guardian lion-dogs at Shinto shrines. While the spelling changed over time, the term komainu originally translated to just “Korean dog”. The wordplay behind the name Ria is harder to guess: one word for a dog is wanko, and this particular wanko is named Ria. It’s therefore wanko Ria, or should we say: “One Korea”, something precious that was lost to time.

Other, maybe less probable details about the family also come to mind. For example, Ajiro thinks their unusual beauty could have been inherited from Korean ancestors, and Miku’s unusually tasting dishes were not the product of her inability to cook, but of her having a different palate than most Japanese people.

Even the magic show provided clues about the family's past: the Rising Flag Card changing from the Korean one to the Japanese one wasn’t a random choice.

The reason why the Saimons never use the 1,000 yen bill is because it portrays the first Resident-General of Korea, Itou Hirobumi, who approved the Korean annexation in 1909.

--

And so we have arrived at the following conclusions: the three Tamakos are Korean, many of the Saimons and their relatives are Korean-Japanese… and oh, right, Soga Tensui is convinced that he’s Prince Shoutoku and Jesus at the same time.

The question is, what on earth does all that mean for the Case?

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

[broomballkraken]

Title: Sincerity

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Pairing: Linhardt/Hapi

Word count: 2841

Warnings: None

Summary: Hapi didn’t believe that Linhardt had a sincere bone in his body, but to her surprise, he finds a rather interesting way to prove her wrong.

“Linny, are you sure we should be wasting time down here when there’s a war being fought right now?”

“Oh, this is hardly a waste of time.”

Hapi pursed her lips as she continued following Linhardt down a narrow passage, somewhere in the deep, unexplored depths of Abyss. They were currently searching for a book that Saint Timotheos left behind, with hopes that it would contain some clue as to how to deal with Hapi’s monster summoning problem. That was great and all for her, but she still felt slightly guilty spending time on a personal quest while there was a war going on above.

“Besides,” Linhardt continued, pausing briefly to stifle a yawn, “you’re way more important, and interesting, than the pursuit of war.”

Hapi’s face scrunched up as he spoke. She was important, huh? Just as a point of research to him, no doubt. Sure, they had also become really great friends during the time that they’ve known each other, but that was all they would ever be. And that fact made Hapi’s heart clench, because for some inexplicable reason, she had come to fall quite hard for her weird, unlikely, crest-obsessed friend.

From their first real interaction - five years ago when she had been soaked from being caught in the rain and Linhardt had made her tea while she dried off - she had always thought of him as a really odd person. He was dedicated to his own research and incredibly intelligent, but yet he was also super lazy and nonchalant when it came to subjects and activities that didn’t interest him in the slightest. Hapi, for better or worse, had been (and still was, for that matter) one of those subjects that greatly interested him.

As they spent more time together, trying to get to the bottom of how her crest was causing her sighs to summon monsters, Hapi grew to think of Linhardt as a close friend. She liked how laid back and casual he could be around her, as she was mostly used to people being wary when near her, or just outright avoiding her altogether. They spent many of their free days outside of the monastery, with Hapi lounging up in a tree while Linhardt made himself comfortable below it as they talked about his theories and research.

Sometimes, though, their topics of conversation would shift to other things, such as the many exciting happenings around the monastery, rumors and gossip that were spreading around Abyss, and just anything that they felt like talking about. She had become so comfortable around him that she even fell asleep sometimes when they were talking, and she knew that he had done the same.

When they had reunited five years after the start of the war, she was slightly worried that he might have changed in that time. However, they went right back to their comfortable conversations, as Linhardt had started out by sharing what he had been able to research during his time away from the monastery. It was then that she realized how much she had missed him, and in the weeks that followed, as they talked and enjoyed naps together and fought side-by-side on the battlefield, she slowly came to the realization that she had somehow fallen head-over-heels for him.

So hearing him call her important and not mean it in a romantic way made Hapi’s stomach drop. She bit her lip and turned her head away so that Linhardt couldn’t see the disappointed frown on her face.

“You should watch what you say, you know,” she mumbled, glancing back at him out of the corner of her eye, “Someone who isn’t already used to your weirdness might get the wrong idea.”

“Well, I’m sorry that my sincerity rubbed you the wrong way. I meant what I said, but that’s fine.” Linhardt said, shrugging as he shook his head.

Hapi rolled her eyes as Linhardt changed the subject back to her unfortunate ability. She didn’t think Linhardt had a sincere bone in his body. He was always so nonchalant about everything, why would he think differently about her, other than to satisfy his own curiosity about her crest? It seemed like a waste of time for him otherwise. She was no one special. Actually, she was less than that. She was a freak who summoned monsters with her sigh. Who in their right mind would want to be with someone like her? Her mood soured even more when Linhardt started blabbering in super scientific terms that she didn’t know.

“Blah, blah, blah,” Hapi said, waving her hand in front of her to hopefully convey her annoyance, “I don’t even understand you right now, Linny.”

“You don’t have to understand to appreciate the implications.” he said simply, and Hapi bit her lip again, this time to suppress the urge to sigh in frustration.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, you’re gonna help me understand it all, right? And make this shitty blood curse of mine go away?”

“Me? Well, I guess it should be me. It would be a waste of my efforts otherwise.”

Hapi’s heart clenched at that. Of course, he was only interested in her because of his research. Once he solved the mystery of her monster-summoning sigh, he would grow bored and leave her. It was fine; she was used to being alone by now. However, the fact that her feelings for Linhardt now ran far deeper than just mere friendship made it feel like a knife had been thrust through her chest at the very thought of him not being by her side.

“You know,” Hapi mumbled, suddenly feeling dejected, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek hard to keep herself from sighing because of it, “If you’re feeling tired, we can return to the surface for now.

“This is way more walking than I’m used to, and I’ve lost some sleep over this. But you’re way more important than…” Hapi rolled her eyes as he trailed off. Not this again. She wanted to be happy hearing those words from him, but she couldn’t be, knowing that he only said them because she was valuable to his research, and not because he was being sincere about liking her as a person.

“Oh, that’s right. You don’t like me when I’m being sincere.” Linhardt continued, and Hapi had to bite her tongue this time to suppress the long, drawn out sigh that she so desperately wanted to let loose on him.

“It’s not that I wouldn’t like you to be sincere,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned her chin up at him, “It’s that I don’t believe you’re actually being sincere in the first place.”

“Oh? Hmm…” Linhardt fell silent at that, and his brows furrowed as he stared at the ground, seeming to be deep in thought. Hapi was grateful for the silence, and they walked on with only the sound of their footsteps to listen to for a while. The silence didn’t last forever, however, as it was broken when Linhardt smacked one fist into the palm of his other hand and stopped walking.

“Aha! I’ve got it,” he said, nodding as a satisfied smile crossed his face. Hapi stopped a couple of steps in front of him and turned to look back at him with a curious eyebrow raised.

“What is it?” she asked, bracing herself for whatever weird thoughts that his brain had come up with this time.

“I’ve just figured out...the perfect way to prove my sincerity to you.” he said, and Hapi just stared at him blankly for a moment. She then rolled her eyes and turned her back on him, gritting her teeth to stifle her annoyed groan. She was starting to grow irritated with the fact that Linhardt kept bringing the subject up, as it just reminded her of her festering, unrequited feelings for him.

“Ugh, Linny, just drop it already and-” Hapi moved to turn around so that she could glare at Linhardt while chewing him out, but the rest of her grievances were reduced to a muffled squeak of surprise when she suddenly found his lips pressed against her own. He...He was kissing her? Right now. On the lips. Linhardt’s soft hands had moved to cup her face, and she was having a really hard time forming any sort of coherent thought at the moment. She was frozen in place, her eyes wide as she stared at the flawless skin of his face as he continued kissing her.

It seemed like an eternity, but it was still too soon when Linhardt broke the kiss, but his face lingered before her, close enough that their noses brushed and Hapi felt the warmth of his breath on her lips. Her face felt like it was on fire, and her heartbeat was roaring inside of her ears. Her mouth fell agape, but she was still so flabbergasted that no sound came out. Linhardt’s beautiful blue eyes scanned her face carefully, before they locked onto hers, while a mischievous smile crept over his face.

“Hmm, you still seem a bit...unconvinced,” Linhardt mused, his eyes never leaving hers as he trailed his fingers along her jawline until he had her chin held between his thumb and forefinger, “I guess it can’t be helped. I’ll just have to persuade you a bit more.” Even if Hapi had wanted to protest, she was given no time to do so as Linhardt’s lips were quick to capture hers once more. He was kissing her…again??? Hapi was even more shocked now, so much so that she was surprised that her heart hadn’t given out yet. Her arms had finally decided to move, and she lifted them with the intent of placing her shaky hands on Linhardt’s chest, and her eyes slowly slipped shut.

However, as soon as her eyes were closed, the warmth of Linhardt’s lips against hers vanished, and his hands fell from her face. Her eyes shot back open to find him yawning, and he shook his head.

“Well, if that didn’t convince you, then I’m not sure what will.” Linhardt said, shrugging as he turned and started walking down the corridor again. Hapi gawked at his retreating back for a few moments, before her eyes narrowed and she grit her teeth. He was just going to walk away without an explanation? She sure as hell wasn’t going to let that happen.

“Oh no you don’t! Get back here!” Hapi raced down the corridor after him and grabbed Linhardt by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. He turned to look back at her with a confused eyebrow raised.

“You really need to tell me what the hell that was all about, right now,” Hapi said, panting a bit as she tried to catch her breath.

“I’m not sure what you are referring to,” Linhardt said, bringing his free hand to his face as he yawned.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about! Why did you...kiss me?” Hapi said, her impatience getting the better of her as she huffed with frustration. Linhardt blinked at her a few times, before shrugging nonchalantly.

“Oh, that. Well, it’s rather obvious isn’t it? You didn’t believe that I was being sincere when I said you’re important to me, so I thought that kissing you would clear that right up.”

“Linhardt,” Hapi said, her voice deadly serious as she let go of his arm, “I...really need to know what you mean by that. Like, spell it out for me. Please.” She watched as he rubbed at his arm, his eyes avoiding meeting her own. Curiously, when he finally did look her in the eye, Hapi noticed that his cheeks were slightly pink, a stark contrast against his pale skin.

“I’ve...been thinking about the future quite a bit lately, mostly about the many things that I could do after the war,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers, “The various possibilities are endless and ever changing, but the one thing that remains constant is...you.”

“Huh?”

“During our time spent together, it seems that I have become quite enamored with you, Hapi. I simply cannot imagine a future for myself without you in it. That kind of future would be rather dull and empty, after all.” Hapi stared at him, her jaw falling agape. What the hell was he saying? That he couldn’t live without her or something? Before now, she would have never imagined those words ever coming out of his mouth, and aimed at her, of all people.

“Ugh, y-you can’t just say those things!” Hapi blurted out, her cheeks burning as she tried to contain her flustered state, with little success.

“Why? Is it because you become so flustered that you stutter and your face flushes the cutest shade of red?”

“Yes!”

Linhardt laughed at that, and Hapi pouted at him, but on the inside she was jumping for joy. She really should have expected him to pull something like this. He was a pretty weird, unconventional guy after all. Sharing their first kiss in the dark, dank depths of Abyss seemed rather fitting for the two of them.

“Well?”

“...Well what?” Hapi tilted her head at him, confused, and he sighed and rolled his eyes.

“How do you feel about me, Hapi? It hardly seems fair that I’ve confessed my feelings without hearing a response from you.” Linhardt said, and Hapi felt her cheeks heat up again as she averted her gaze to the floor.

“Er, well...I just-You see...Ugh! I feel the same way about you, alright?” Hapi said, hiding her face in her hands. Gods, this confessing of her feelings thing was way more embarrassing than she would have thought. Her face scrunched up when Linhardt chuckled, but the smile on his face afterward made Hapi’s face soften, and she ended up smiling as well.

“That wasn’t the most spirited confession, but I guess that will do.” Linhardt said, and Hapi just rolled her eyes at him, “I am a bit surprised to hear that you do feel the same, though. If I had known that, I would have told you sooner.”

“Wait, you mean that you’ve felt this way for a while now? Then why did you wait to tell me?” Hapi asked, hoping that he wouldn’t ask how long she had gone without telling him the very same thing.

“Oh, I was just waiting for the right moment, I suppose.”

“...And that moment was now, when we’re prowling around in the dirty depths of Abyss? That’s not very romantic, Linny.”

“Oh? Should I take it back then, and wait for precisely the perfect moment to do so?”

“...Nah, you’re good.” They both laughed at that, and Hapi watched as Linhardt turned and began walking ahead.

“Well, come on then. We should get moving.” he said, glancing back at her briefly before turning his attention to the path ahead. Hapi didn’t follow right away; she was still trying to figure out if this was all just an elaborate dream or not. If it was, she was going to kick her own ass when she woke up.

“What’s the matter, Hapi? Are you too tired to go on?” Linhardt’s question snapped Hapi from her thoughts, and she realized that he had walked back to where she was standing. He smiled as he reached out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand, causing her to inhale sharply.

“Or, are you perhaps hoping for another demonstration of my...methods of persuasion.”

Hapi narrowed her eyes at Linhardt as he laughed, but a sly grin quickly crossed her face. Without warning, she grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him forward, her lips crashing roughly against his before he knew what hit him. His startled noise was short-lived, as he quickly recovered and eagerly returned the heated kiss. Hapi smiled against his lips, and only pulled away this time because she sadly needed to breathe in order to keep on living.

“You,” Hapi said, pausing briefly to admire the rare view of a red-faced Linhardt, “are the worst, Linny.” Linhardt blinked at her for a moment, before barking out a laugh and shrugging.

“I suppose I am,” he admitted, grinning as he took Hapi’s hand, “Come now, the secrets of Saint Timotheos won’t unravel themselves, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Linhardt tugged her along behind him as he started down the corridor once more, and Hapi was glad that his back was to her and he couldn’t see the stupidly goofy smile that was plastered on her face. She closed her hand over his own, and her smile grew wider when Linhardt immediately entwined his fingers with hers. As they continued their quest to unlock the secrets of her crest, Hapi, for once in her life, was actually looking forward to what her future had in store for her, especially now that she would have Linhardt with her every step of the way.

[theladyaurora]

Orgasmic Power Supply

A story, maybe to be continued, mostly written by ar-tis-t, with a bit of influence from me. The tech had been developed during the technology explosion of the '20's right before the big flare ruined it for everyone.  As a result of the massive and utterly destructive energy from the cataclysmic solar flare, all electrical generating stations stopped working and the technology was rendered useless overnight.  Society returned almost immediately to a state resembling the dark ages. Slowly but surely we recovered but the means of generating sufficient energy to return to the greatness of the past eluded us.  Until now. The details are pretty sketchy and all but incomprehensible to any save the imagineers but suffice to say that technology had finally found a way that allowed the storage and use of the electromagnetic energy produced by the body at sexual extremis.

In a nutshell.  Your orgasms produce as much energy to power the average home.  For a month.

As with all tech, it started innocently enough, toys created to feedback the excitement they created.  The better they felt the more intense they operated. It created feedback loops, More excitement = more power.  Ultimately it was the adult entertainment industry who broke the barrier. At an exhibition demonstrating the newest toys, the performer had such a powerful orgasm that the resulting discharge of energy blew not only all the lights but every electrically operated device within the immediate area.  Coupled with the newly developed Shortrange Phyche Transfer technology or ShPhT (Hooking your mind directly into cyberspace commonly known as Shifting) it opened the door to some truly pantwettingly realistic porn with some truly mind melting orgasms.  I'm not kidding. As with all new technologies, some people when presented with it took it too far and ended up as slaves to their computers. Pleasure puppets as it were. These poor unfortunates became the first “Batteries”.

That was years ago.  At some point the government began to take notice and it wasn't long before “power stations” began to appear.  Then the law was changed. On the advent of a citizens coming of age (and every year after on the anniversary of their birthday) they are to report to their local generating station, there, to be milked of orgasms for three days

Sounds like fun yeah?

Sounds like the best birthday present ever yeah?

To be strapped in and locked down.  To have your mind sucked into whatever reality your pornprofile dictates and to be made to cum.  Over.  And over.  And over.

Not only that but the pay was excellent, and after all, who wouldn't want to get paid to come. 

Happy Birthday.

Not.

What they didn't know (that first time) was that once they signed on that dotted line, then that's it.  No respite. They are inserted into the extractor unit and the orgasms are wrung from their bodies

Over and over

At first it's good

Then it starts to hurt

And they start to beg

Eventually

Some very few people don't survive.  They literally come themselves to death.  Others come back changed. Addicted to to shifting.  Addicted to cumming. But the energy that is produced powers our society and everyone turns a blind eye to the few downsides.

Until today.

She came in.  It was obvious that this was her first time even though she was far older than you'd expect.  It wasn't completely unprecedented...different people, different cultures view the age of majority differently.  Hell there was even a small cult up near the lakes who determined it by some kind of weird method that nonone else understood.  She could belong to one of those.  

You could always tell the newbies.  There was no fear in their eyes. She would learn  They all learned. Eventually.

I looked at her profile….

Surprised, I read through the whole packet.  She was a new experiment.  They'd kept her "New In Box", that is, she'd never had an orgasm before.  I looked at her basic info - 35 years old?  Hmmm.....  Interesting.  I started setting up the protocols as outlined in the schematics.  It wasn't too different than usual, just a few tweaks.

She is apparently one of a group of experimental subjects that are hopefully going to revolutionize our power supply system.  I remember reading about it a while ago, but didn't know they were so close to production.  The theory behind it is that edging for a sustained amount of time before cumming would yield higher results.

I checked her chart again.  She's been on an edging plan for the last week.  I made a mental note to put on my protective gear before setting her off.  Safety first, you know.

I kind of wondered how they kept people from cumming on their own.  Seems like in that many years, one would have figured it out.  Flipping through to the Methods section....  Ah!  Mind Control.  They just...  do something?  To their minds?  That makes a person not be able to cum?  Huh, glad I wasn't picked for that!

I smiled.  Aurora.  Bringer of lite.  An apt name.  I wonder if she had any clue what it was that awaited her.  Scanning down the list of her stats, looking for the code for her personalised pornprofile.  As soon as she was fixed in place we would fix the headset and she'd be plunged into the world of her fantasies, whatever they were.

I shouldn’t really admit this but once they were immersed, it wasn't unusual for the technician to "listen in" as it were.  We could...  remotely view whatever it was that was running through the subjects minds at any given time.  Just a quick adjustment to the carrier wave and we could shift into their fantasies and become an observer.

That's all it was.  Observing.

Honest.

It was always a surprise what it was that turned people on.  We had a guy last week who got his jollies from food.  And i don't mean eating..  Seriously.  You don't wanna know.

"Ok. Ms Aurora if you just like to step this way we'll get you situated and comfortable, there's nothing to worry about.  The inflatable cuffs hold your arms and legs in place.... if you could bite down on this... i know... its a little uncomfortable but its there to stop you biting your tongue.  Yes.... it does stop you talking but it's preferable to biting the end of your tongue off when you orgasm"  Ok???  Comfortable??

Good... now i'll just plug you in.  This is inserted just...... there.  Don't worry about it being too small.  It will adjust itself to the optimal size and will syphon off the energy as it is created.  OK.... now if you'll just take a deep breath in.  That's it.  And release.  And another....

there.  That's it. we need you to be nice and relaxed.

Now. I'll just pop on this headset and we are good to go.  If there is an emergency, the system will automatically shut down and an orderly will come and release you.  Now.

Sweet Dreams.”

I shook my head as I walked away.... wondering if there would be anything left of the poor girls mind at the end of the three days.  I flicked the switch to initiate the Shift and closed the door.  (Switching off the lights as I did so.  can't be wasting power now... can we?)

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to find some give in the restraints but as soon as they were inflated they had become as unyielding as steel.  

Damnit, how was she supposed to play if her arms were restrained. I thought they wanted me to play. That was the whole point, surely. To play and play and play.  That was what you did wasn't it? You played and teased and stroked and tormented yourself and that generated power. 

It made perfect sense to her but how on earth was she supposed to do it when she couldn't move her damn hands!!!

Suddenly the headset flickered to life and a voice, a woman's voice echoed in her ears.  The shift will begin in ten seconds. Please relax, any discomfort will be temporary. PLease follow the numbers as we count you down.

10  Breathing in

9  And out

8 In

7 And out

6 Noises starting to fade

5 Mind going blank

4 Breathing in

3  Breathing out.

2 Mind blank and ready to receive.

1  Shifting.

A sudden spiral sucked her consciousness out and DOWN.  Lights flashing, images flickering before her eyes… faster.  Faster. Words dripping and dropping into her consciousness

deeper

deeper

faster

farther.

Layers of voices ... twisting in upon each other whispering talking…. discord mixing blending into a coherent whole……

then

Nothing....

You have been successfully inserted into the hub.  PPF loading.

loading…..

loading…..

loading….

Hypno orgasm addict playlist selected. 

Repeat selected.

And play....

[welcometophu]

Into the Split: Out of the Woods 3

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Out of the Woods 3

[ Previous | First | Next ]

The food is good, and plentiful. It’s different than the meals in Havenhill, and far more chaotic. Rory calls out for the vegetarian plates to go his way first, and everyone obliges. Chris takes plates away from Alaric before he takes too much. Del picks and chooses carefully, and Mac doesn’t seem to care what she eats. Pawel looks as if he’d subsist on tea and coffee alone, but when Mac puts food on his plate, he eats automatically.

Serina shows up with a tray full of more food and sets it down, passing out plates. “Mallory picked it all, not me. That has nuts,” she says, pointing to a plate Alaric’s in the middle of picking up, and he passes it along to Chris instead. “She said you guys needed more food.”

There’s something that smells like onions and garlic and Nikolai steals it before anyone else can get their hands on it, splitting the half sandwich with Seth. The onions are roasted and sweet, the garlic rubbed into a paste that complements the sweetness of the ham and a hint of pineapple. He’s never had anything like it.

“Hey.” Carolyn arrives with with two more guys—one who looks just like her and is introduced as her twin Kit, and a grinning redhead who is Rory’s brother Thorne. They drag another table over and everyone rearranges so that Kit can sit with Rory, and somehow Nikolai and Seth and up on the end of the bench nearest the chairs, with Alaric and Chris pushed further into the bench, and Thorne on the chair. Serina comes back with more food again and pulls up a chair for herself, squeezing in next to Carolyn.

“I’m on my fifteen and I’m starving,” she says, reaching to fill her plate.

Nikolai’s stomach twists as he tries to find something to grab onto in the sudden influx of chaos around him.

There are at least three conversations going on. Del leans on the table to talk across everyone with Carolyn. Alaric and Chris are having a conversation with Thorne around Nikolai and Seth. Pawel, Kit, and Rory are deep in conversation. There are more, but Nikolai is losing track of who is who and the conversations seem to shift and change as people switch which one they are involved in.

It’s confusing and overwhelming.

“Del.” Pawel raps against the table, and conversations fade. Nikolai is reminded of when he first met the newcomers, and how they would all look to Pawel as if waiting for leadership.

This is similar.

“Mm?” She sits back, sipping at her tea. “Did I hear you say something earlier about some kind of Dreamwalker network? I think you might be nuts.”

Pawel waves off the thought. “We’ll talk more about that later. I want to discuss Chelsea with you.”

“Who?” Del looks around, frowning. “I thought I knew everyone here. I haven’t met a Chelsea, have I?”

Silence.

Carolyn glances at Heather and Nikita, then back to Del. “You kind of introduced us, actually. Do you remember anything from the Dreamscape?”

“Any of the times you’ve talked to us,” Nikolai adds.

Del’s brow furrows. “Me and the Dreaming have a loose relationship. Or more, I have a loose relationship with my mind when I’m there. It likes to go skipping happily through the trees rather than being coherent.” She looks at Nikolai. “I remember talking to you.”

“Chelsea is Conor’s mother,” Pawel says, tone carefully regulated to the point of being almost flat. “Was Conor’s mother,” he corrects himself.

“You had her lead us back here.” Nikita’s voice lilts up, almost questioning. “You said Mattie was broken and we needed someone who could lead us through the Split to make the cross, and she did. But I’m not sure how we got there in the first place, because the way back was incredibly different.”

Del rubs at her face. “Your way there left me unconscious on Pawel’s living room floor for a few hours,” she mumbles. “From my perspective, we were trying that thing where you were looking into his world, so you could make sure he was okay. Carolyn brought up the illusion, and Nikita you decided to walk into the middle of it, which felt—weird. Next thing I knew there was a thunderclap, the room went pitch black, and I passed out. Your kid and neighbor found me.” She glances at Pawel. “So if he’s scarred for life, sorry.”

“I am pretty sure that nothing will scar Conor at this point, but I’d rather not test the theory,” Pawel says dryly. “On the other hand, Chelsea’s existence is definitely going to test the theory. Rory—” He cuts off, makes a face. “I’m sorry I called Mattie an it. I was too self-involved to see her the way you were able to. Upon meeting Chelsea, I can now look past the Shadow appearance and see the person who Emerged.”

“Speaking of Mattie, where is she? I haven’t heard from her since you came back,” Rory says. “She did make it back, didn’t she?”

“She did, but she disappeared. With Chelsea, I think.” Pawel sits back. “I had no idea.” He scrubs his hands through his hair, holding on like he’s trying to keep his brains inside. “I had no idea that Chelsea had… that she was… that she’d Emerged. I didn’t even know then that it was possible.”

Nikolai wants Pawel to keep talking. As long as Pawel’s talking, the focus is on him, and the conversations have died down. It lets Nikolai breathe more easily.

Seth squeezes Nikolai’s hand, leans forward. “What happened?”

Pawel blinks at him, brow furrowing for a moment. He opens his mouth, then glances at the rest of the table. “I have a son. You heard me worrying about him—you heard him on the phone this morning. He’s in third grade right now, just turned nine, and he was born while I was still in school. And me being in school was—it was rushed and wonderful and complicated all at once because I created a brand new major and department that I’m now the head of. And Chelsea was my best friend. She was someone I clicked with immediately when we were freshmen. She was the first Mage I ever met, and she helped me through my own Emergence, which was… interesting, and a story for another time.”

He picks up his mug, stares at it for a moment before taking a quick gulp of cooling liquid. “We dated freshman year, then we stopped, then we started this friends with benefits thing. We were both too busy to date, and we just—we loved each other, but we weren’t in love. And when she got pregnant, she said she knew he was going to be a Mage. She could feel him and couldn’t let him go even though neither of us was really in a place to raise a child. So we made our plans to stick together in a partnership. Raise him together. Then she disappeared out of the hospital right after he was born, and I thought that she’d panicked and run.”

Pawel presses his lips together, expression pained, the lines tight around his eyes. “I looked for her. Hell, my dad looked for her for me. He’s the chief of police back home and he has some good connections and resources, but we never managed to find her. I guess I know why, now.”

“So that can happen?” Kit asks. “Someone who already has a Talent can just turn around and one day they’re a Shadow?”

“One day they’re a creature who has no desires beyond eating other people’s souls,” Thorne points out.

“Beg to differ—Chelsea definitely recognized Pawel in the Dreamscape, and I think she was doing her best not to eat any of us,” Mac says sharply. “They’re still people underneath it all.”

“It’s not so unreasonable,” Nikita points out. “I mean, look at how many people sitting at this table have Emerged with other Talents than the ones they were born with. Me, Carolyn, Del, Alaric—having a Talent doesn’t mean you’re immune to Emerging.”

“Which implies that Emerging and being Talented are two different things,” Carolyn mutters. She pulls out a notebook. “I need to add that to my things to look into. It’s entirely possible that Emergence isn’t an expression of a latent ability, but a layering of a new ability over old.”

“Like the Lince,” Pawel says, leaning closer to her and tapping the notebook. “Talk to Ángel, if you haven’t already. They’re a unique aspect of Clan with a singular form and the ability to call others to them, if they have any inclination to be a cat.”

“Do you think there’s a way to determine genetically if a person has a pre-disposition to Emerge?” Kit asks. “Either to predict what form that Emergence could take—will they be a Mage, or a unique Talent like a Teleporter—”

“I think Traveling is a Lineage,” Carolyn interrupts him. “As much as Empathy or being Clan. There are different kinds of Travelers, but I think it warrants research.”

It becomes impossible to follow the conversations again. Before they had at least been quieter. Civil things that criss-crossed among the people there. Now they’re shouting. It’s not angry, it’s excited. Talking about things that Nikolai has learned to keep quiet, shouting it loud enough to be heard. There are sparks, and little pops, and he feels like everyone’s Talent is simmering under their skin, just waiting to be let loose.

He doesn’t know why he’s there. How he can help. It’s obvious that they know far more than he ever will. He’s just another Dreamwalker, and has been one since birth. He knows what not to do, and how to avoid being found by Shadows. He can light up the sky and bring the Dreaming into focus without endangering the rest of the world, and after that… he’s not much.

They’re all so much more.

His chest is tight, breaths sharp and quick.

The world moves abruptly as Alaric stands up on his other side, pushes roughly. “Thorne, get up,” Alaric growls. “Let them out.”

Let who out?

Oh.

Himself. Seth.

Them.

Calm washes over him, sliding off his skin without being able to penetrate deep enough for Nikolai to truly feel it. He stands as soon as Thorne makes space, retreating from Seth and everyone else, his hands up, trying to keep them away.

“Nik,” Seth says quietly, and Nikolai shakes his head.

“No. I don’t want—I just—,” Words fail him. “Shit. Please.”

“Do you need some time alone?” Alaric asks, and when Nikolai meets his eyes, he sees kindness and understanding.

“I need for my skin not to feel like it’s peeling off,” Nikolai says carefully. He tries not to see how Seth flinches. Nikolai crosses his arms, tucks his hands in. “I don’t want to be touched. I’m sorry. It’s all just too much and I’m going to go outside.”

Thunder booms outside, echoed by the crash of a chair as Nikita gets up too quickly.

She’s going to follow him. Of course she is.

He pushes his way through the restaurant, the door banging open when he exits. There’s sleet coming down, chill and brutal, and he rocks to a stop just outside the door, hovering under the overhang above. Thunder booms and he flinches from the sound.

The door opens again, closes more carefully, but Nikolai doesn’t bother to turn around.

“You can’t get stormy every time I’m upset,” he mumbles.

“I can’t exactly help it,” Nikita says. “It’s like we’re… I think it’s that whole we’re one person. Maybe it’s us being linked in the Dreamscape, I don’t know. But you get upset, or I get upset on your behalf, and poof, we have miraculously weird weather. It’s been an interesting time ever since I got to PHU last fall.”

Nikolai wraps his arms around himself, stares at the sleet rushing down. It’s cold without his jacket, and that’s hanging over his chair inside. “So if I calm down, it’ll stop.”

“It’ll stop when it stops,” Nikita says. She steps in closer, shoulder to shoulder. “You already feel less anxious, but still a lot angry. It’s strange, too. It’s like I feel it, but I know it’s not me. It’s like a layer of unreality all around me, and it’s a bit disturbing, I’ll admit. So.” She nudges him. “Want to talk about it.”

“What else is there to say?” Nikolai can’t think of a way to do this without rehashing things that have already been said several times before. “I don’t want to be here.”

“You keep saying that.”

He looks over at her. She’s staring into the distance instead of at him, her gaze hooded. “That’s because it’s true,” he says. “I keep saying it, and no one here is listening. Even Seth—he’s my anchor, and he’s my boyfriend, but he’s also interested in what you’re saying. He’s invested. He believes you when you say you’re going to heal the Split and force the Shadows out of both worlds. He wants to be here because he wants to be a part of that.”

“And you don’t?” Nikita asks.

It’s more complicated than that.

Given a chance to make his home safe, of course Nikolai wants that. Why wouldn’t he?

But everything else along the way. All the twists and turns and uncertainties… all the confusion that keeps cropping up, and the way the world doesn’t feel real under his feet. “This isn’t a bad world,” he says slowly. “But it isn’t my world. And I just can’t get past that, Nikita. I know my world seemed awkward and strange and restrictive, but it’s also my family, and it’s where I’m comfortable, and you know how you thought Dreaming about my life was a nightmare? And it kept doing this?” Nikolai gestures at the sleet that shows no signs of slowing. “To me, your life is a nightmare. This world is a nightmare. It’s like an apocalypse waiting to happen, and no one here is willing to see that. It’s not my home and I just can’t let go of that right now.”

He exhales roughly. “There are so many of you, and only two of us, and I can’t find my feet. It’s a constant confusing mess, Nikita. I sort of know you and the rest who came with you, but that’s it. And you keep talking about things I don’t know anything about. It’s different. You might as well be speaking another language half the time.”

She doesn’t speak right away, and Nikolai appreciates that. He feels as if he keeps saying the same things, and she keeps saying the same things, and they aren’t getting anywhere. He wants her to listen, to really understand where he’s coming from and stop treating this as if his life is one of their movies or games.

“We need reinforcements,” she says quietly. “I think we’re going to need a lot of reinforcements, both here and in your world, so we can do… whatever it is we need to do in order to force the Shadows out. We have better ability to communicate here, although your world is going to get better now that you’ve got your Technopaths involved. And we need to find a way to communicate between the two worlds, and I think that answer is going to be the Dreamwalker network. But it’s all going to take time to build, Nikolai. And I know you don’t believe me, but I really do swear to you that we’ll get you home after. But please be patient, and we’ll do our best to make things happen fast, but we kind of need to just dig in and get working on it.”

“What do you think the next step is?” He wants her to answer, not Pawel. He sees that Pawel is their leader, but in his mind, Nikita is the other half of him in a way. Not a sister, not a twin, but sort of the same person. Two people, two bodies, twinned across two worlds.

“The networks,” she says softly. “Getting things under control and reaching out to the people we already know might be our allies. Starting to build a foundation that will help us. Plus, we need to figure out what happened with the Shadows in the first place and learn enough to help us figure out how to get rid of them. So we need to be going in two different directions.” She flashes a small, tight grin. “Luckily there just happens to be two of us.”

It’s not going to be that easy. Nikolai knows that, but it feels a little better not to be shouted at or around. Not to be disregarded as just this person who happened to come along for the ride. “I’m willing to do what it takes,” he replies. Just as long as it means they get to go home.

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[workersolidarity]

So...

kinda bothered by all the Red Baiting I see online by the so-called "Left" when it comes to the criticisms of Trump and the GOP

I though this garbage would die out when it became clear after the Mueller Investigations that Trump, nor anyone else in the GOP were Manchurian Candidates secretly working for Russian Government, but just rather your typical, run-of-the-mill Corrupt rich guy.

Clearly I was way off and the Red Baiting bullshit isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

Looking at the first ten responses to a recent Tweet by Trump, I found 6 of them were just Red Baiting Right-Wing Reactionary Propaganda, and the other four were just snark and non-Red Baiting memes.

None of the responses involved the slightest but of critical analysis, not even mixed within the snark and memes.

I immediately found something upon my own critical analysis of the Tweet worth pointing out, as Trump was equating fear with respect and Unity, which he assumes will help him to succeed.

I was quick to point out that fear=respect=unity=success was the same formula previous Fascists like Hitler and Moussillini both used. Which of course didn't end well for them since Hitler committed suicide when his defeat was imminent, and Moussillini was publicly hanged and dismembered.

My point is to show how simple it is to criticize Trump and the GOP in legitimate, non-reactionary ways, and it's just as simple to come up with something more clever and humorous.

But instead, 60% of the people I saw on Twitter, most of whom are Petite Bourgeois Liberals in the media world, but many aren't in that world, but are clearly being influenced by Reactionary Herd Mentality, just copying the Right-Wing commentary and social media snark they're accustomed to hearing on MSNBC and CNN.

This isn't a mistake, it's not accidental that this is the thoughtless direction the Trump/GOP Critic crowd has taken when responding on TV and Social Media.

The fact is that Democrats, having lost the 2016 election by letting Trump get to their Left on Economic issues while simultaneously stoking outrage and Nationalism, have no legitimate path to taking down Trump from a Progressive position. Not that they want to either. They don't seem to want to risk helping a "Socialist" get elected in 2020.

Instead the media crowd can only criticise Trump from the Right. Even when they make a serious attempt at criticizing Trump/GOP policies, they fall flat, sounding unconvincing and forced. All they're left with is snarky Red Baiting memes, innuendo about Manchurian Candidates, sounding just as deranged and conspiracy minded as Republicans.

Liberal media figures are only capable of attacking Trump's Immigration Policies from the Left. But because of affects of decades of Neoliberal Free Market Fundamentalism, and successful Fascist Propaganda blaming the poverty inducing results of these policies on Hispanic and Islamic Immigrant Communities, the masses have become highly skeptical of Immigration Policies mostly tailored specifically to keep deflationary pressures on wages domestically. You can't really blame people for seeing through this facade and then falling for the Nationalist Propaganda of the GOP.

So once you realize this, it becomes clear that the Liberal critics are left with two choices. Either they move Left into Social Democratic territory and attempt a more honest if unconvincing line of attack against the Right, or they can dive headlong down a rabbit-hole of continued conspiracies and Reactionary attacks from Trump's Right, continuing to defend the Free Market dogmatism and Corporate Free Trade Policies of the last half-century.

Of course we all know the Neoliberal Paradigm is highly unpopular with most people and become more unpopular by the day, and so they've instead gone whole-hog on the Red Baiting and Conspiracy theories.

Now we seem to have large sections of the White Working Class convinced by the Nationalist Propaganda out of sensation of frustration and a realization of false choice Bourgeois Democracy offers them.

Without any kind of United Socialist Movement in the US, or even a coherent Center-Left Social Democratic outlet for the people's frustrations, this has left them susceptible to calls of Nationalism, Racism, and Xenophobia coming from the GOP Right, as well as the Red Baiting and Conspiracy theories coming from Democrats and the Liberal media ecosystem. Of course this led us to the Trump Era, and inevitably leaves us open to a far more competent, dangerous Fascism in the future.

The only option we have is work harder and faster than ever before to educate Workers and Organize ourselves into a coherent Revolutionary Movement based on the Principles of Marxism-Leninism.

The descent into madness isn't going to get better on its own. The two-Party dichotomy of Bourgeois Liberals and Bourgeois Fascists leave us with a Political System that will see the Fascist gain control 9 times out of 10.

Under the twin threats of Fascism and Climate Disaster, we have no choice but to stop fighting amongst ourselves for scraps of media attention and instead build up a serious, Militant, Vanguard Party capable of defending the Working Class, raising the consciousness of the Proletariat, and challenging Bourgeois Rule.

Failure isn't an option anymore. There are countless Marxist Leninist Organizations out there doing fantastic work. Some are small and unknown, others have a reputation with the Labor Movement, and still others have done great work on analyzing the History of Revisionism and have been working on strategies for years on how to combat it.

From the Freedom Road Socialist Organization (FRSO), Party For Socialism and Liberation (PSL), the Progressive Labor Party (PLP), the American Labor Party (ALP), all the way down to working groups within the Marxist Center, as well as local Organizations like the one I joined the New Orleans Worker's Group.

Of course there are even more I haven't mentioned but that's my point. All these groups and more are working Independently and separate without any common Goals, Strategies, Tactics or even basic coalitions or basic communication channels.

That's Not a Winning Strategy!

This is too important a time in History, just as importantly it's too great an opportunity to miss just because of individual egos and ideas of turf.

We must begin conversations across Organizations to begin the work and process of consolidating our various organizations into a Vanguard Party of the Proletariat. Fuck the name or where it's headquarters are. It's more important that we do the work of fighting for the Workers and Uniting the Proletariat under a common Marxist-Leninist Movement! We have the greatest opportunity to build a Socialist Movement capable of challenging Capitalist right here in the Imperialist core! People are rediscovering Socialism and we're allowing the Revisionists, Anarchists and Social Democrats of the DSA define Socialism in the 21st Century!

We cannot allow these Right Opportunists to define our Movement for us just so they can hand it over to the Democratic Party betraying the Working Class again as they always inevitably do!

This is our moment, and we have little choice but to seize on it by the very nature of the external forces acting on Imperialist Society.

This is the first time in nearly a Century when the Socialist Movement is growing instead of shrinking. To fail the Workers now would be an unforgivable mistake. All Marxist Leninists have more in common worth fighting for than differences that can be worked out better through inter-Party Dialectics.

The Bolsheviks didn't begin by rejecting everyone they disagreed with. Instead they built up a Socialist Movement within the RSDP and alongside the Socialist Revolutionaries and even the Liberal Cadets until the Left had become a force in Russian Politics. They didn't begin by splitting with the Mensheviks and fighting the SRs and Cadets.

Once they had sufficient strength, then they broke with the Mensheviks. Then they were capable of proving themselves the legitimate Party of the Proletariat through their constant work Organizing, fighting Tsarism and Capitalism, and by showing through their actions why they were the true representatives of the Russian masses and not the Opportunists, the Liberals and the Anarchists.

And it wasn't until after they became the Venguard Party leading the October Revolution to victory that they could afford truly battling the Reactionary Bourgeois Capitalist pretenders during the Civil War.

When the dust had finally settled, they finally had the strength to consolidate their power, and it wasn't until all this was completed that the Bolsheviks now had the strength to purge the Opportunists and Revisionists within their own ranks.

We cannot expect to start a Socialist Movement by rejecting people before we've even begun. We have to educate first, argue internally second, and only when that process has failed does it make sense to reject a member from a Vanguard Party.

Yes, we also cannot afford to allow Social Democrats to corrupt the meaning of Socialism and confuse the Workers. That's obviously unacceptable and cannot be allowed in the Party. But a bit of Pragmatism and restraint within an organization of dedicated Marxist-Leninists would be wise.

As long as a Comrade or Cadre doesn't violate the rules and principles of Democratic Centralism post-debate, as long they don't actively contribute to disunity, then some level of dissent isn't just acceptable, it's preferable. We have to be a Movement capable of self-reflection, self-criticism, and accepting outside criticism and reflecting on that. Lenin and Stalin understood these points of pragmatic reflection very well. They were constantly critical of one another and the Party and yet always fought to preserve unity within. Nothing says these two principles are mutually exclusive and in fact it's brought up repeatedly in the writings of all the most historic figures within the Movement.

So I'm trying to make an appeal to all the disparate Parties and Organizations currently working Independently towards the same goal without a common line, a common strategy or even basic communication.

We all know it makes no sense and yet we've done nothing to bridge the gaps in decades.

Well, within our current time and place, with a revival of Socialist interest, it's incumbent upon Revolutionaries to immediately begin the hard work of unifying Marxist Leninists Organizations into a Vanguard of the Proletariat.

We have no choice! Our actions as Communists today, may very well shape the History of tommorow, and the survival of people across the world, at a time when the Imperialists have made it undeniably clear their willing to destroy the entire planet to continue their rule, may come down to our ability to Organize ourselves.

Just something to keep in mind as my Comrades consider their contributions to the Movement.

[completeoveranalysis]

TRC Translation Notes Volume 17 (Chapters 125 - 132)

More lovely notes from the even lovelier @giniroangou!

Highlights include: more coherent wish conversations, lifespan clarifications, Kamui being even worse than before, it’s true, sweet lines from sweet people, Nick finally understanding why Sakura had to go into the Acid desert alone, clothing choices explained, touching moments all around, and Good Morning Kurogane Redux! 

Chapter 125

p.5 - Yuuko says that if she were to save Fai herself, the price would be “too heavy.” This is why Kurogane looks so murderous - it sounds like she’s telling them she won’t do it. This also makes Subaru’s wish a few pages later feel less presumptuous. He’s not cutting in on the Tsubasa family; their turn is already over.

p.7 - As in the previous volume, this should be “Immediately after we came to this world” rather than “Soon after,” but I love the hilarity it’s caused.

p.12 - Subaru’s point is that the events that unfolded may have been inevitable, but they wouldn’t have happened within the reservoir if it weren’t for his presence there. It still doesn’t quite make sense, since it wasn’t his fault he got sucked in by the feathers in the first place, but it’s slightly more coherent than the translated version.

p.19 - It’s not that Fai must not receive vampire blood alone, but that if we were to receive just vampire blood he would end up drinking the blood of various people.

There’s also a subtle difference in wording about the wishes here that I feel changes the nuance slightly. Yuuko says: “Kurogane, keeping Fai from dying is your wish. Fai doesn’t want that.”

Chapter 126

p.30 - The sounds Fai is making in this scene are represented by a small tsu in Japanese (ッ), which indicates either a pause in speech or a glottal stop. To me, it gives the impression that Fai’s vocal chords are under pressure but there’s no real sound coming out, so it’s like silent/suppressed screaming. It’s up to interpretation, but if he is making any noise here it isn’t anything coherent enough to be the start of a given word.

p.32 - I would interpret Satsuki’s line as an apology for not being able to heal Fai earlier.

p.35 - Yuuko says that due to Fai’s enormous magical powers, he already had a long lifespan. For her line about his age vs Kurogane’s, “multiple times” could be an alternative translation to “many times.” In Japanese she says “nanbai mo,” which I’d say could be as few as four times (though it does have the potential to be much greater than that.)

As a side note, there is a fan translated version of this scene where Yuuko says that Kurogane’s lifespan will increase along with Fai’s. A large portion of the fandom was led to believe this and there are still people who are unaware of the proper translation, so if you see anything along those lines popping up in meta or fanfic, that’s where it comes from. It is based on a mistranslation, though.

p.36 - In the original text, Kurogane says that he saw the trust Mokona had in Yuuko when Mokona asked for her help. Since he trusts Mokona, he went along with the deal. (Just replace Mokona’s name with “that thing” lol.)

p.41 - Kamui’s “It was nothing” is ruder and more dismissive in Japanese. He says “...betsu ni,” which I think could best be represented in English as “...whatever.” It’s a total sulky teenager response.

Mokona is saying that things will be difficult for Fai from now on specifically because he’s a nice person.

p.43 - A little detail that I love: Yuuko refers to Fai as “that child” in this scene. It feels somewhat affectionate, but also gives the sense that Yuuko has been around for a very long time, especially in light of the recent revelation about Fai’s age.

Kurogane is actually setting his priorities here - he says there are still things he wants to ask, but the underground water comes first.

p.44 - Sadly, Subaru is not sharing the blame with Kamui in this scene - he’s still just saying it’s his fault.

Chapter 127

p.58 - Sakura’s first words to Lava Lamp are spoken in polite language vs the casual speech she used with Syaoran, creating an immediate distance between them that colors the silent exchange that follows.

Chapter 128

p.70 - Here, Yuuko is saying that the impurity of the water is its strength; because it hasn’t been sterilized it still has its natural power. (The antidote thing is a mistranslation.)

p.75 - Fuuma’s comment about having no means of communication is specifically in reference to Yuuko: “Since coming to this world I’ve had no way to communicate, so it’s been a while since we last spoke.”

p.76 - Fuuma refers to Subaru as “Subaru-san.” He also says Seishirou is in Subaru’s debt (“osewa ni narimashita”) - it’s a polite expression that may imply kindness, but the focus is more on Subaru doing him a favor/helping him rather than on Subaru’s attitude towards him.

p.84 - Sakura’s actual original line was, “Tell me everything that’s happened up until now,” so though she’s logically asking about everything that’s happened in Acid Tokyo, you can totally interpret this as her asking about all the things that have happened since the start of the manga. Follow your dreams!

p.87 - I’m not sure if this got lost in translation or just didn’t fully sink in, but Sakura is going out alone because that specifically is the price. If someone went with her, it wouldn’t be enough for the deal - the true value of what Sakura’s doing comes from the fact that she is undertaking something dangerous without anyone to help her.

p.89 - Kurogane doesn’t specifically tell Sakura to come back alive, but he does tell her to go and come back (“ittekoi”/行って来い) so the implication is there. Then he says, “We’ll be right here until you return.”

Chapter 129

p.93 - In Fuuma’s original line there was no implication that Sakura’s trip would be easy, just that the compass would confirm the route for her.

p.97 - Fuuma doesn’t say that the Tower will be victorious, but that they’ll have an advantage without Kamui there.

p.103 - Mokona’s speech style made this scene difficult to translate, but she’s not really asking for permission to call Lava Lamp “Syaoran” - she doesn’t actually use his name at all outside of that one question. She’s just confirming that he does indeed have the same name as their Syaoran: “You’re named Syaoran too, aren’t you?” (The official translation really committed to the fact that Mokona never uses personal pronouns, which is pretty cool in theory but unfortunately ends up forcing some of her sentences into very different configurations. As I’ve mentioned before, it’s far easier to get by in Japanese without pronouns than it is in English.)

Chapter 130

Cover page - This chapter title should be “The Crossed Line” (In the sense of someone crossing or stepping over a line.)

p.116 - To highlight how significant this moment is, the original line has quotation marks around Kurogane’s name. It also comes after a pause, so it becomes: “…. Good morning, ‘Kurogane.’”

p.125 - There are some major mistranslations here. There is no implication that Yuuko was lying about Fai’s potential to stop being a vampire. Fai calls her soft for leaving that path open - he sees it as a favor she did for the other members of the group (implied: this isn’t something he wants for himself.) Yuuko then says that it may be more cruel to give them this option than to have Fai unable to return to the way he was before, but that’s up to Fai. (Implied: the choices Fai makes regarding his options are going to determine whether it makes things more painful for his family or not.) Side note: The word that’s been translated as “traveler friends” is actually “Syaoran-kun-tachi” (Syaoran-kun and the others) so it’s not as distant as it sounds, but it’s definitely stepping around Kurogane’s direct role and investment in Fai’s well-being.

p.126 - The word Yuuko uses can be translated as “reply,” but I think “answer” would be more appropriate. She says, “... So that’s your answer?” referring not to Fai’s literal reply to Kurogane, but rather affirming that pushing Kurogane away is his answer to the entire situation he’s in.

p.127 - Fai doesn’t speculate that Kurogane had never been given a nickname - Fai says that he himself had never called anyone by a nickname before.

p.128 - Once again, the word that’s been translated as “unhappy” also means misfortune in a general sense. It’s the same word Himawari uses to talk about her effect on the people around her. Happiness may be the ideal, but I would assume Fai is worried about much more serious things than just that - if the people he cares about are unhappy but otherwise unharmed, that’s still better than a lot of alternatives.

p.129 - What’s been translated as “all the young ones in your group” was originally Yuuko saying “those children.” Given that she referred to even Fai as a child a few chapters ago, it can be assumed she’s including Kurogane in this group. She also describes their relationship as reciprocal: “To you, those children are no longer just a passing existence. And to those children too, you are someone precious. Your pain is their pain as well.”

Chapter 131

p.135 - The translation for Lava Lamp’s reply is accurate here but it might be the tone of Kurogane’s question that makes it feel off. He sees that Lava Lamp is self-conscious about wearing Fei Wang’s symbol and says, “It’s not like you wore that because you wanted to, right?” Though it invites confirmation, I would interpret this more as a reassurance than as an actual question. In starting his response with “though” (or alternatively “but”), Lava Lamp’s agreement is implied. Ie: “[I didn’t want to wear it] But I’m sure it’s not something you want to see.”

p.152 - Sakura says there will be more times when she will have to hurt people directly (not have people hurt themselves.)

p.153 - When Sakura says she wants to return Syaoran’s soul to him, she uses the verb “torimodosu,” one of the same words Syaoran used regarding her feathers. If the official translation were consistent, her line here would be, “I want to give it back.”

Chapter 132

p.157 - Fai uses the verb “ikaseru” (行かせる), which could be translated as either “make her go” or “let her go.” In this context, I would interpret this as Fai asking why they let Sakura go alone, rather than asking why they sent her alone.

None of your thoughts on Fai’s continued use of “Sakura-chan” are wrong, but I would say it’s not the “-chan” itself that indicates he’s laying claim to their relationship, but simply the fact that he hasn’t changed the name he calls her by. I wouldn’t necessarily view Fai’s consistent use of -chan and -kun with Sakura and Syaoran’s names as an inherent sign of familiarity. Note how in Fai’s discussion with Yuuko he distinguishes his nicknames for Kurogane from his more “proper” way of addressing the rest of the group. It’s normal for adults to add these suffixes to the names of children, even ones they don’t know that well, whereas many parents will drop suffixes on the names of their own children as a sign of intimacy. If Fai suddenly started saying “Sakura” instead of “Sakura-chan” it would likely have the opposite effect that saying “Kurogane” did. That being said, if he wanted to establish distance between them he could have switched to “Sakura-hime” or “The Princess” or something along those lines. Thankfully when changes of address do happen, the context usually helps make the meaning behind them fairly intuitive (as in the “Hello Kurogane” scene.) It’s just good to keep in mind that there is no solid rulebook for this stuff - it all varies depending on relative status, relationship history, tone, personality, surrounding events, etc.

p.162 - Kurogane’s original line here was, “Are you planning to go to the Princess?”/“Do you intend to go to the Princess?” so it doesn’t sound quite as harsh as the translated version.

p.165 - Sakura not knowing where to go was merely implied in the Japanese text - she originally just says that there are no more footprints.

p.169 - Kurogane refers to Sakura saying she’d come back as a “promise.” Then he says he’ll wait even if waiting is more painful than going with her.

p.171 - It may not have been clear in the translation, but Lava Lamp deliberately switches the name he uses for Sakura here from “Sakura” to “The Princess.”

p.172 - Lava Lamp differentiates between pain of the body vs pain of the heart (incidentally using the same word for “heart” that is used to describe Syaoran’s heart/soul.) If Fai was injured, the pain in Sakura’s heart would be far worse than any physical pain. This then informs the scene that follows - I assume Sakura knows her physical injuries are worse than Fai’s, but her concern for him encompasses both physical and emotional damage.