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cayenne-twilight · 4 years

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Professor Layton Iceberg Explanation

As I said in the tags of the original, the iceberg I made was a meme consisting of both real theories and satire/parodies/fandom memes. If anyone is interested, I can work on an unironic version that only has real theories.

Buckle in because this post is LONG and heavily saturated with lore and information.

Actual theories

Parallel universe 1960s where the world wars didn’t happen. There’s an unused file in Curious Village that shows the year as 1960 and the time machine from UF is set to 1973, ten years into the future. The series canonically takes place in an undefined time period (hence the technological inaccuracies and fantasy elements), but it’s based off the 60s. There’s more evidence but we don’t have time to go over every little thing. I linked my “no wars” theory below but TL;DR the outdated airplanes and underdeveloped medicine in the Layton series imply that the world wars may never have happened. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632205992162099200/outofcontextdiscord-timegearremix-zonosils-war

The real meaning behind the statue in Future London. In UF, the purpose of the statue is to spark Layton and Luke’s conversation about their friendship. Luke is stressing out about moving overseas and sees himself and the professor in the story behind the statue, but in the bigger picture, Clive must have been the one to commission it. Some theorize that the little boy is Clive and the man is either his father or the professor. One idea I’ve seen is that Clive wishes he could be Luke for real, while another is that he wishes he died ten years ago, and another is that he’s literally terminally ill explaining why he doesn’t care about consequence. Personally, I think “the boy succumbed to his illness” refers to his mental illness seeing as he wanted the professor to save him from his madness as he saved him all those years ago.

True location of Monte D’Or. there are no deserts on the British isles to my knowledge, so it makes the most sense for Monte D’Or to be in Southwest USA where English is the default language, they have a desert, and there exists a city famous for flashy hotels, casinos, and entertainment. What makes it odd is that nobody ever mentions overseas travel, and all the major characters are from England.

Loosha’s origins are not explicitly explained if I remember correctly, but the implication was that her prehistoric (supposedly) species was sealed away along with the garden, allowing them to survive all the way to the time of LS until Loosha was the only one left. The garden provided a good habitat and protection from predators, and it’s logical that they’d slowly die out anyways, but there’s no explanation of any specific factors that led to Loosha being the last.

Beasley is not a bee I wrote a post about this one as well, but TL;DR Beasly lacks several defining bee traits whilst having several human ones. He is not human, yet, by definition, not a bee. It’s possible that he is the result of Dimitri’s testing, but whatever his untold story is, he remains an enigma of nature. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632381715250282496/theory-beasly-isnt-a-bee

Subject 2’s identity is currently unknown. There is a subject one (parrot) and subject 3 (rabbit) so there has to be a second. For a long time, people suspected Beasly to be him seeing as he’s a bit of an amalgamation and definitely not a regular bee (see above). After the release of LMJ, though, people began to suspect Sherl, the intelligent hound who could speak to certain people but not others. That being said, it’s possible for one to be subject 4. Sherl’s memory of a bright flash matches up with subject 3’s memory of being electrocuted. They never explain why the animals were being experimented on, but it was probably Dimitri making sure the conditions of his machine were safe for humans before reliving the incident from ten years ago.

Lady Violet died from the plague from DB. There’s no evidence for this or anything, it’s just an idea. People say she died from the flu but I don’t remember them saying that in the game, at least the US version. Extending off my “no war” theory: it’s theorized that the Spanish Flu was spread by the travlelling soldiers, so if that’s true, it’s possible for the epidemic to have been averted for some decades. Maybe the Spanish Flu reached England later than in real life. The hole in this is that DB’s plague must’ve been close in time to 1918 while Violet’s death was much later, so it would’ve had to stick around.

Bill Hawks is working with Targent and Arthur Cantabella. There was a force in the shadows buying the time machine technology from Bill. Someone with a ton of money who helped him cover up a freak accident and get away with it completely, a feat that involved shady means like violence by hired thugs. Some theorize that it was Targent, seeking power over time in exchange for a little mafia magic. The Labarynthia project was sponsored by the UK government, so as the PM, Bill must’ve known about it. He probably supported dubiously ethical, high stakes (witch pun) psychological experiments like Cantabella’s and helped him stay in the shadows.

All the NPCs in St. Mystere and Folsense are dead. I make fun of this type of theory later, but they’re admittedly captivating. I’m pretty sure the canon in CV is that the villagers are Bruno and Augustus’s OCs that they made robots of and built a town around, but it’s more interesting to think that the village was there before, and the townspeople died of a plague and were replaced like Lady Violet. In Folsense, there really was a plague and they never explain the NPCs there. They’re either real people who appear way younger than they are due to hallucinations (even the ones who already look old ?), or they don’t exist at all, which is pretty spooky. This part of the story is a gaping plot hole. In a similar vein to CV, the edgy yet plausible theory is that they used to live in Folsense but died of the plague and now live on as hallucinations.

Hershel seeing everything as a puzzle is a coping mechanism for all his trauma. This was a joke but I thought about it for more than five seconds and it makes way too much sense.

Plot holes and unexplained questions that we like to overthink because it’s fun

The downfall of the Azran was vaguely explained in canon by people being so greedy that it lead to the civilization collapsing. It’s not a stretch to imagine that happening, but it would’ve been more interesting with a little more detail.

Layton and Luke are programmed to routinely forget how to walk. I didn’t know whether to list this in the joke section or not, but it’s odd that the characters actively participate in the walking tutorial (as opposed to showing a little memo to the player) as if they didn’t know how to before, especially when they go through this several times a year.

The truth behind Pavel. He’s simply a joke character who teleports, is a polyglot (sort of, at least he wants us to think he is) and is mega confused all the time. He’s a fun character to make crack theories about because of his cryptic nature that even he doesn’t seem to understand.

Miracle Mask deleted scenes. The first trailer for MM featured animations that were not in the final game. One was the Randall falling scene, except in a slightly different style than the one we know. Others were completely foreign, like Layton and Luke pacing across a theatre stage as if Layton’s about to expose someone with a dramatic point. Cut content and “could’ve beens” are always curious to think about.

Evan Barde: secret mastermind. Arianna and Tony’s dad is a mysterious character who died under mysterious circumstances. I think the canon is that his death was a genuine accident, but concept art of him making a creepy evil face suggests that maybe he originally had a larger role in the first drafts of LS than the finished game.

The secret to how Paul and Des pull off their disguises is unclear and will remain unclear. There is no plausible explanation for their shape shifting. Unless Paul is just a little dude wearing a human suit like that one Wizard of Oz species and Des is the best quick-changer ever and hides his naturally feminine legs under his cloak.

Alfendi’s mom. When LBMR came out people scrambled to piece together who Hershel had a kid with, but there’s no way alfendi is his biological son. This happened with Kat as well and her biological parents turned out to be brand new characters, so I’m sure Al will get an adoption backstory if his arc continues, be his parents old major characters or nameless, faceless NPCs.

Granny Riddleton and Stachenscarfen are omnipotent deities. Idk which section this fits best under, but these two characters have some serious power. At first introduction, they’re implied to be robots, but they appear everywhere in later games. They follow the Professor wherever he goes and assist him on his adventures, GR collecting puzzles and housing them by some odd magic, and Stachen teaches you how to walk. They both introduce and supervise the gameplay. By extension, I guess this idea could apply to Albus as well in the prequels. GR and Stachen even had the power to appear in LMJ, something no major character could do. I consider them akin to the velvet room attendants from the Persona games.

Clive’s kill count is a vague subject in the game for the sake of keeping it PG. I don’t know if anyone’s ever mathematically estimated the damage he caused, and I sure don’t want to try, but the game appears to push the idea that he didn’t kill anyone at all, saying they stopped him in the nick of time and things like that, even though we watch him raze the city. If they ever want to bring him back post-time skip, I can see them twisting it so that the mobile fortress cutscene wasn’t a linear sequence of events, but instead a compilation of scenes over the course of hours so that London neighborhoods around him could be evacuated and have it make sense. Knowing Level-5, it’s more likely that they wouldn’t think this deep and do something more lazy, though.

Memes and references

Post-time skip Flora is real references the famous L is real theory from Super Mario 64. Like Luigi in SM64, Flora was also a highly anticipated character who didn’t appear in a new game, in this case LMJ or LMDA. In the end, Luigi did become real in the DS port so hopefully Flora is real will be realized as well.

Hershel can’t read is a veteran fandom meme referring to how in the first few games, especially Curious Village, Layton asks Luke to read every document out loud for him. Perhaps this was an exercise to improve Luke’s reading skills and independent thinking, or perhaps he was just too lazy or preoccupied to do it himself, but this grew into the joke that our genius Professor was actually illiterate this whole time.

Layton’s smash invitation is hidden in PLvsAA. It’s no secret that the fandom would kill a man to get the Professor into the smash brothers franchise. In PLvsAA one of the puzzle artworks features a goat eating a familiar white envelope with a red stamp, sparking the joke that either Layton or Wright got the invitation their respective fans desired, but it got lost along the way.

The science board is the mysteriously vague organization Don Paolo got kicked out of for the crime of being evil. It’s the epitome of liberal arts majors and art school graduates trying to bs their way around not knowing any science and failing miserably. “He was very good at all the sciences, but then the CEO of science told him to stop because he was using the power of science for evil science”. They do this again when “Dr. Stahngun” describes his time machine what with the soolha coils and whatnot.

Hoogland is death cult initiation is a parody of “Mario 64 is Freemason initiation” which is ridiculous, just like the creepy human sacrifice subplot of AL.

You can see the reflection of someone watching you in Aurora’s eye references the famous, creepy Talking Angela theory. In retrospect it would’ve been funnier if I said Angela instead of Aurora.

Every copy of Professor Layton is personalized references the famous “every copy of Super Mario 64 is personalized”

Clive’s fat ass in HD is a meme that originated from the announcement of UFHD, saying that half of the excited fans wanted to cry again while the other half were simply attracted to Clive. If we want to enter real bottom-section-of-the-iceberg-chart territory then let’s say Clive’s character has some sort of psychological siren properties that draw people to him like a magnet and/or Harry Styles.

Things I pulled out of my ass for shits and giggles

Infinite hint coin hack: I’m sure a tech savvy cheater could hack the game for infinite hint coins, but there’s no easy or interesting way. I don’t know why someone would do that though, considering a lot of the hints suck and there are puzzle guides on the internet.

Cringy, unused Randall villain monologue. This joke is derived from the actual scrapped MM content as well as deleted content being a popular element of iceberg charts, but it’s sadly not real. Would’ve been hilarious, though.

Last Specter Puzzle 031: Light Height tracks and records children’s intelligence level. It doesn’t, but it’s always fun to make fun of arguably THE most ridiculously difficult puzzle in the franchise. (Seriously, do they expect 7+ year olds to know trigonometry???)

Hershel struggles with tea addiction. Hershel from the games drinks tea in moderation, but the manga begs to differ. He has a tea set in the Laytonmobile, and an attempt at teatime while driving causes him to crash.

Folsense is a metaphor for Alzheimer’s. This is inspired by those edgy kids’ show theories where everyone’s in hell or something, but nobody has ever said this.

London Life is reality and the plot of the games is all in Luke’s head. That’s one way to fill every plot hole. How funny would it be if Luke made up crazy characters and stories based off his fellow townspeople Sharkboy and Lavagirl style. “This dude who lives in a castle and asks people to give him all their money for nothing in return is a vampire from 50 years ago involved in a tragic love story”.

Secret ending encoded into Tago’s Head Gymnastics. It’d be crazy if there was, and Dimitri would hound Tago for the secret to time travel. If you didn’t know, the Layton games started as an adaption of Akira Tago’s puzzle series, except they decided to add a story to make it more interesting and marketable.

Daily puzzles datamine your DS. I’m bad with technology but is it even possible to datamine a DS??? Idk, but I think my DS lite from 2008 is safe.

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k7l4d4 · 3 years

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Plane Shift: The Boiling Isles, Brief Character Portfolio

Hello all, today I am going to go into some measure of detail for the characters in this crossover between the Owl House and Dungeons and Dragons 5e. Everybody clap your hands!!

Now, to give a little heads up, the way this portfolio is set up is based on the following Format:

Character Name

Defining Quote/Motto

Alignment Inclinations

Favored Classes/Known Classes

Brief Profile

Okay, now that the format is listed, time to get into the nitty gritty!

Luz Noceda

“Limits? What are those!”

Chaotic Good/Neutral Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Order of Scribes. Secondary Class: Artificer, Subclass: Battle Smith. Tertiary Classes: Paladin, Rogue, and Bard.

The young daughter of the famed Plane Warden and Cleric, Camila Noceda, Luz has always had her head in the clouds, longing for adventure and friendship. Upon entering the Adventurer’s Academy, she proceeded to rock the very foundation of Plana and adventuring by choosing not one, not two, but FIVE classes to train in! She would’ve tried them all, but was talked out of it when they professors made it clear it would be physically impossible for her to take them all, and that the number she had selected would push her to greatest of limits. Luz lives life without limits or regret, and while her extremely impulsive nature has resulted in a rather poor social life, she is greatly beloved among the street dwellers and lower ranks of local organizations and groups of her home.

Amity Blight

“Perfection is impossible. That’s why we seek it.”

Lawful Good/Neutral Good

Primary Class: Warlock, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

The youngest child of the affluent Blight Family, recently displaced from her home dimension, Amity holds herself to a strict standard of decorum. Her methodical nature, dedication to study, and respect for authority has made her a divisive figure within the Adventurer’s Academy, as while her new instructors find her dedication admirable, they also worry it will disallow her from living a healthy and happy life. Amity regularly runs afoul of Luz, but the human girl’s friendly nature, genuine endearment, and appreciation for magic and learning has served as a bonding bridge between the two. Hints of something deeper within her heart grow clearer all the while.

Willow Park

“Nature is a blessing to us all. We have a duty to care for it, and each other.”

Neutral Good/Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Druid, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Barbarian.

The only child of the Park family, Willow is a quiet, gentle child all around, but within her lurks a frightening power over nature itself that constantly threatens to break free if not for her ironclad self-control, and kind nature. Once friends with Amity Blight, circumstances forced a rift between them, and she holds that pain as a torch within her heart, always wary of letting it burn her down to nothing but unwilling to let go. Willow’s incredible connection with Plants has made her a rare talent among the Druid classes, and she is constantly called to demonstrate her power before her new peers, much to her delight.

Augustus “Gus” Porter

“So much to learn! So much to experience!”

Neutral Good/Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

A young prodigy who skipped several grades in his home dimension, Gus is still an outstanding figure when it comes to both technical skill and application of magic. Excitable, kind if somewhat insensitive on occasion, and with a fierce need to prove himself, Gus often finds himself in difficult situations, both socially and dangerously, but he never allows it to affect his optimism. He’s rapidly built a bond with Luz over their shared passion and energy, not to mention his excitement over befriending “an actual real-life human!”

Boscha Triplet

“I saved the day! Why? Because I’m a Star of Course!”

Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Monk, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

An athletic star with an incredible ego, Boscha is by all accounts an unpleasant individual, yet since coming to Plana, she’s gradually shown signs of a more vulnerable personality, one she vehemently denies and buries within herself, much to the chagrin of others. While she initially chose Monk as a joke, thinking it of a blow-off course or something similar, the relentless physical training, and the brutally humiliating smackdown dealt on her first day have served to motivate her to continue and succeed in the Class she chose, if only out of pure spite. The philosophical aspects of Monk training seem to go over her head, yet her friends and foes alike have noted her occasionally seem to verge on saying something mean or crude, only to stop herself and stare off in contemplation.

Skara Levine

“Just go with the rhythm. Everything will work out, right?”

Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Bard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Sorcerer.

A young girl who lived at the top, Skara had many halmarks of being a potential problem child, often being easily lead and influenced by those deemed her friends, Skara is typically very sweet and outgoing, but for all her social butterfly moments, they are undercut by her poor interpersonal skills, frequently stumbling onto sensitive topics without any inclination she understood why she shouldn’t bring them up. She is a paradox, being both kind and cruel, nice and mean, in equal measures, the parallel nature of her behavior often befuddles those around her. She’s recently begun stating that she hears things suddenly when no one is around.

Emira Blight

“Don’t worry, I can handle this on my own.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Rogue, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Fighter.

The oldest daughter of the Blight family, Emira is a mischievous girl with a fondness for mayhem. Nonetheless, she cares for her family and friends, even if her methods occasionally leave much to be desired. Of the Blight Children, Emira is the most independent, often resentful of any perceived restrictions, but calm enough to find workarounds rather than lash out. She frequently professes that looks forward to the day she can live her own life, and enjoys teasing her sister along with her brother.

Edric Blight

“We got this, we just got to stick together.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Rogue, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

The lone son of the Blight family, Edric is Emira’s twin, and is in many ways both her equal and her mirror. While sharing her sense of mischief and love of tricks, Edric is far more flighty and whimsical, often hyper-fixating on animals and whatever shiny thing catches his eye, often projecting a childish air about him. He is the most insecure of the Blight siblings, though he hides it well, and dreads the idea of being alone, particularly from his twin.

Viney Arkswood

“Animals are our friends. They have just as much capacity for good as we do.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Ranger, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Druid.

One of three students sentenced to the Detention Track for their mixing of magical disciplines, Viney has a caring heart and a love of people and animals that manifested in a rather strange way, in that she attempted, and technically succeeded, in training her pet griffin to be a nursing assistant. Viney is genuinely unsure if she wishes to return, with the lone benefit in her mind being to see her parents again.

Jerbo Underslack

“I might be nervous, but that doesn’t make me incompetent.”

Chaotic Good/Chaotic Neutral

Primary Class: Cleric, Subclass: Nature Domain. Secondary Class: Druid.

One of the three Detention Track students, Jerbo’s love of plants and his fondness for the idea of loyal aides combined in his creation of plant monsters that trashed the gardens of his school. Jerbo is the most suspicious and leery of his friends, often being slow to trust and even slower to act, he nonetheless is a kind soul, and used his admittance into the Adventurer’s Academy to try and kind some new meaning in his life.

Barcus Howsberry

“Your soul glimmers with the joy of a newfound toy in the arms of a lonely child.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Artificer.

Last and oddest of the three Detention Track students, Barcus’ unusual body and strange speech make him truly bizarre, and his cryptic demeanor doesn’t help. Barcus enjoys both the art of Potions and Prediction, and frequently seeks to join the two. Upon arrival, and confirmation that yes he is a sapient being, Barcus was checked by Camila, and was determined to have a hereditary curse bound to his being, and when offered to have it removed, his comfort with his form initially made him refuse, only to be told that the speech impediment and oddness of his form would destroy any chance of him being able to integrate into society, causing him to compromise and have the curse suppressed instead.

Camila Noceda

“To bring goodness and love in this world means I can rest easy, knowing I left it in the hands of those I love.”

Lawful Good

Primary Class: Cleric, Subclass: Life Domain. Secondary Class: None.

Mother of Luz Noceda, Camila is the current Plane Warden of Plana, being entrusted with guarding the city from extraplanar threats and to help guide and aid those lost between realms. Camila is a loving soul, but the strain of her job has worn on her over the years, with the sole reprieve being her precious daughter. Camila often adopts a motherly role for the displaced children now in her care, offering both advice when needed, and discipline as necessary. Camila also frequently aids and offers advice to the adults now sharing her living space, hoping to help them adjust to their situation.

Edalyn Clawthorne

“I’m the most powerful witch in the Isles, but it never meant a thing until I found someone to use that power for.”

Chaotic Good

Primary Class: Sorcerer, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Wizard.

Fiercest Wild Witch to grace the Boiling Isles since Belos’ ascension, Eda marches to the beat of her own drum, no exceptions, but she still holds a beautiful heart for those she cares for, and people in general, no matter how much she denies it. Eda was genuinely shocked to learn that Camila could, and did, heal her curse, effectively if not easily, and feels a deep sense of obligation towards the woman a a result, not to mention her all around soft spot for Camila’s daughter. Eda genuinely has no desire to return to the Isles at this point, beyond maybe a chance to reconcile with her mother and retrieve Hooty and all her stuff.

Lilith Clawthorne

“I am far from perfect, and have made many mistakes. This is the least I can do.”

Lawful Good/Lawful Neutral

Primary Class: Paladin, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Wizard.

Lilith Clawthorne, elder sister to Eda, means well, but is both painfully naive and far too trusting for one her age, as well as disturbingly childish and immature. For all that though, Lilith holds a good heart and thrives in a structured and ordered environment and system. When she received the knowledge that Eda’s curse had been cured, Lilith was nearly left catatonic, as the curing of Eda rendered all her efforts meaningless and her life without true purpose. When Eda bluntly stated that even with her curse cured she will NEVER join a coven, Lilith forced herself to accept it, no matter how much it hurt. Since that day, Lilith has attempted to find a new direction in life, and to help others as best she can.

Odalia Blight

“Like it or not, one’s word is their bond.”

Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Bard.

Matriarch of the Blight family, and a near-Karen level individual, Odalia is both incredibly goal-oriented and driven by a desire to succeed. Domineering and controlling, Odalia exerts a highly unhealthy and toxic level of influence over her childrens’ lives, though she does truly love them. Odalia enjoys having the upper hand, and will do anything to allow her children and family to not only survive but thrive, and is very much fond of disproportionate retribution against her enemies.

Alador Blight

“This could prove interesting.”

Lawful Neutral/Lawful Evil

Primary Class: Artificer, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: Rogue.

Patriarch of the Blight family, and all around bizarre individual, Alador cares for little in his life aside from his inventions, his wife, and his children, in that order. Often dazed and easily distracted, Alador is highly curious and constantly seeks new inspiration for his devices and creations, no matter how dangerous the circumstances. He cares little for his wife’s antics and schemes, but in no way does he find them unacceptable, he often acts as a stabilizing influence upon her, and is perfectly fine with calling her out on her behavior when she genuinely goes too far.

Hieronymus Bump

“Dedication and Focus are important, but true passion and joy for what you do makes all the difference.”

Neutral Good/Lawful Good

Primary Class: Wizard, Subclass: Undetermined. Secondary Class: None.

Principal to the famed, some would say infamous, Hexside School of Magic and Demonics, Principal Bump loves to teach and help others learn, and is perfectly willing to play the system to ensure he can do so. While he genuinely loves all his students and wishes them to succeed, he is willing to admit he is old-fashioned to a certain extent and can have trouble keeping his views on a topic unbiased, and can occasionally act in unethical ways if it means finding a solution to a problem, though he does not enjoy such measures. He aids Camila in searching for a way to return home for him and his fellows, and often acts as a reasonable authority figure for the students who came with them.

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robbyrobinson · 3 years

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Follies at the Coven Day Parade (REVIEW)

This was a really good episode. So, Luz tries to make a video for her mother to make her reconsider letting her stay in the demon realm. We learn a few things like how Hooty practically clawed his way out of an H.P. Lovecraft novel by ripping his skin off like you would with clothes...resulting in a freakish owl-worm skeleton devoid of eyes. We get to see Boscha again (sad; I kind of assumed she would have more of a role here) this time threatening to burn Luz's face when she used a light glyph. And the detention hall is rebuilt and just as horrifying when we last left it.

Then there is the idea going around of the Isles' residents contemplating what Belos looked like under that mask which we, as the audience, already know. Hence why I felt that they could have kept it a secret until we got to this episode so it would be more shocking.

Lumity was on point in this episode with Amity going out of her way to try to learn Spanish and cutely calling Luz her little sweet potato. Not to mention Luz kissing Amity on the cheek, oh yes. I was initially afraid that the first dark moment of season 2B would have been Amity watching the video she saw on Luz's phone (which she does not know how to pronounce the word). It is a cute scene in itself: while she truly loves Luz, Amity was still feeling insecure about it and failing to do right by Luz. But, subverting my expectations, she does not watch the video after all.

I also like the heart-to-heart Amity had with Willow making it feel like old times with her braiding her hair. Also, love that we actually see Willow working out with dumbbells so that should hush a few naysayers who criticized the design of the character for seemingly appearing "chubby." But hope we have more development from Willow later on since season 3 only has 4 episodes to wrap things up.

And we are reunited with our "favorite" demonic Gremlin abomination Kikimora who, despite nearly having Eda petrified; almost ended the Golden Guard; and gave Amity some trouble at the Eclipse Lake, Luz decides to help her out once she sees the little hellspawn be torn about either returning to her family for a reunion or attending the Coven Day Parade which could result in the Emperor KILLING her. Clearly, Luz was psychologically projecting her situation on Earth with this paperweight so she decides to "help her" by staging a fake kidnapping of Kikimora and Raine (after fully becoming compelled to ship Eda with her ex).

The first part of the plan involving Hooty and King actually works but we get some issues regarding the coven head of the Plant Coven Terra Snapdragon or, I would like to call her, my new source of nightmare fuel. We soon learn the horrible fate of Raine Whispers and if we needed any more of a reason to hate Kikimora. They had essentially become brainwashed which is kept in check with a mind-controlling tea brewed by Terra. Which leads to...

Just my god. The scenes with Eda and Raine just tore my heart out. I had feared that something like that would happen, but Raine had not only been brainwashed but their memories were also tampered with. So instead of being a rebel against the Emperor, they are a loyal follower. Just heartbreaking.

Of course, that little roadkill backstabs Luz despite the girl helping her with her little issues essentially saying "Screw my mom, I deserve this promotion!" But this climaxes in my favorite part of the episode: Luz and Amity battling it out by combining their spells to get that imp a fight. But my one solace is that Terra cryptically tells her that the "promotion" she got ensured that she would live.

Most pressingly, we get heavy: the Day of Unity is fast-approaching, so much, in fact, it was a month away and would happen during a solar eclipse. Oh no....

#follies at the coven day parade #season 2b #toh #owl house #the owl house #owl house season 2b #reviews #thoughts #reviews and thoughts #disney

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theouterdark · 4 years

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Tag: WIP List

Thanks for the tag, @zmlorenz. I haven’t given an update in a while, so I feel like I owe y’all something.

Rules: Share a list of all the stories you’re currently working on, regardless of whether or not you have introduced them to writeblr.

I have quite a few projects. I’m going to group them by series and then medium. Works marked with an asterisk are tentatively titled.

Blake Livingston Mysteries (Series)

Coldwater Sound

Status: Drafting (2nd Draft) | Word Count: 81K | Genre: Historical Fiction, Mystery, Horror

An island. A vast estate. A haunted family. An untried investigator. The sound swallows the causeway behind Blake Livingston as she arrives on Coldwater Isle. There, a drowning causes a noble family grief, confusion, and fear. Blake will have to endure it all if she ever wishes to depart.

The Devil from the Outer Dark

Status: Drafting (2nd Draft) | Word Count: 70.5K | Genre: Historical Fiction, Mystery, Horror

A painter. A locksmith. Unrequited love. An unknown darkness. Horrors unfold in the south of France in the wake of a terrible accident. Blake Livingston travels to the town of Céret, eager to venture down a new path that closes in on her before she can find the ground beneath her feet.

Gates of Sleep

Status: Drafting (1st Draft) | Word Count: 1.2K | Genre: Historical Fiction, Mystery, Horror

A comatose client. Fantastical dreams. A howling man. London particulars. The fiancé of a victim guides Blake Livingston through a world she is only beginning to understand. She must descend the steps of deeper slumber to solve a crime that occurs before her very eyes, yet that she cannot see.

Other Blake Livingston Mysteries in Progress

The Gloaming

And Soon They Shall Wake

Islands Disappear

Beyond the Real

Cracks Always There

Linger

Through the Eyes of Madness

Spinoff Works

Deadbulbs*

Space Pan (Series, Collaboration)

Space Pan: Volume 1*

Status: Backburner | Word Count: 289K | Genre: Epic Space Fantasy/Opera

Various perspectives converge through time and space...with a cooking utensil. A bicycle courier from NYC. A devout space marine. An alcoholic reporter with an obscene tongue. A weary test subject, ready for retirement. A fifteen-year-old space pirate. A douchebag with a goatee.

Other Space Pan Works in Progress

Volume 2, 3, 4, and 5* and beyond?

The Inverted World*

The Marked Child*

The World Mirror* (Series)

Status: Ideation Phase | Genre: Epic Fantasy

I’m still worldbuilding this thing. There’s magic, multiple POV characters. Political conflicts. Climate change. It’s a whole thing. I haven’t decided on the structure yet. There may be a duology of novellas proceeding a series. There may not, but here’s a taste:

Sound split a wood both dark and light. Silence swept a wood both black and white. I found her there. I remember the sound of all the flies buzzing.

Standalone Fiction

Topiary Black

Status: Outlining | Word Count: 4K | Genre: Cyberpunk Thriller

A cryptic post on a deep-web forum leads an agoraphobic computer specialist into a web of intrigue, crime, and terror. Before long, she’s put on the shortlist for a mysterious game referred to as Topiary Black, the nature of which begins to unravel her understanding of the world as she knows it.

The Call of the World or: A Godless Man in Purgatory

Status: Serial Release (Drafting Part 5) | Genre: Weird Fiction

Somewhere, there is an island. On it, there is a man. And he cannot leave.

Deerfield Run

Status: Ideation Phase | Genre: Dystopian Sci-Fi

No one wanders into the barrens where once we grew corn and wheat, and the suburban sprawl stretched from one horizon to the next. Excepting the runners. No sensible souls cross the cordons, anyhow. There’s a quiet out there. You can hear it in the steady weaving of trumpet vines up the siding of a hundred empty houses. In the patter of windswept leaves across deserted baseball diamonds, bursting with wild grass and sunken with cottontail warrens. It’s the quiet of the steady progression of nature, reclaiming order from chaos. It’s the sound of humanity in retrograde.

And—there’s something else. The runners say it’s old. They say it’s been sleeping, alone out there, before all the clapboards and eaves of our derelict homes went to rot. Before the trees so kindly fell before the axes of the men who built them. Before any of them sprouted, they say. When night falls, and the antediluvian dark smothers the barrens, they say you can hear it in the quiet of Cascadia. The hum. The stirring of a primordial mind beginning to wake.

Hunters of Salt Station

Status: Ideation Phase | Genre: Historical Fiction, Western

A western-style piece that takes place in Canada.

Compilations, Short Stories, Podcasts, and Screenplays

Somnambulant Directives: Dreams from the Outer Dark (an experimental dream journal)

“The God Machine” (speculative fiction about the discovery of an advanced AI)

“The Shore Remains” (based on Tarriance in Clepsydra by @doubleviewfinder)

Precursors* (podcast - Mystery/Horror/Fiction/Epistolary)

Rot* (Feature Screenplay - Lynchian Horror/Weird Cinema)

Beating to Windward* (Feature Screenplay - Comedy)

You Have Until Dawn* (Feature Screenplay - Western/Action/Comedy)

Going Home* (Feature Screenplay - Drama)

I think that’s everything. So. /rant.

No pressure to participate. If anyone sees this and wants to give us an update, go for it.

Tagging: @dotr-rose-love, @byjillianmaria, @midnightstreetwanderings, @sassypandacandy, @kwriteswords, and @phantomswriting.

#tag game #tag games #p:tb #p:sp #p:cws #p:tdftod #p:gos #the call of the world: or a godless man in purgatory #the call of the world #writeblr #wip #wips #My writing #updates #update

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thatonealise · 3 years

Text

On the Wild.

In the beginning, there was nothing. Then a single creative spark made something out of nothing, borrowing the best of many worlds, and before long came the Wild. First a whole world, conventional in rules and mundane in contents, it had at some mysterious and indistinct point suffered a calamity so profound it shattered the world into teeny-tiny pieces, and tossed them left and right, up and down, across time and space. Now, it is a world divided; split into a thousand island and one, and maybe even more, where creatures of all kinds make a do, yourself among them.

Enter the Wild. Befriend it, respect its law, and it will in return be kind and favourable to all your ventures. To go against the Wild, and disrespect the law, is to play a game of chess with powers great and unpredictable. Or so say the soothsayers and prophets and far-seers, and other outspoken folk. But the problem still stands: The Wild allures adventurers and explorers from anywhere and of every disposition. They board the airships and aim to cross the gaping chasms between the isles in search for parts unknown, and in so doing challenge the Wild to a battle of luck.

Why do we hear the call of the Wild? Why it beckons us, when it is the Wild that employs mysterious ways to consume much-too-curious travellers? Perhaps you will be the first to find out. Your airship, *The Unyielding*, awaits only the order to embark. Until it does, however, I’d advise any aspiring explorer, even so eager as yourself, to educate themselves on the Wild matters.

Matter 1: The Cosmology

A world without rules is a world much too arbitrary. The Wild, thank goodness, rests on a foundation solid in structure and clear in law (though not devoid of Lovecraftian instability, something we will touch on in due time). Binding all that exists within the Wild is an omnipresent gas -- the zephyr. Scentless and weightless, zephyr is what our earthly person would call the air, save for a few un-oxygenic properties it has that the air we breathe on Earth does not.

Zephyr is safe to breathe in reasonable quantities, which themselves are relative to the species in question. Some may breathe more of it than others, but what stays true for all is that, sooner or later (most often sooner), the creature gobbling up too much zephyr will experience what is called the Wild-headedness. The foul gas will cloud their judgement, and warp their mind over the course of days so much as to drive them bonkers. Indeed, it is not uncommon to see explorers return disturbed, whispering to themselves some cryptic nonsense, and it is then said of them that they’re Wild-touched, and as one would presume, no Wild-touched traveller has to date ever recovered from the mind-twisting touch.

But, there are lands safe from the zephyr; pieces of land large enough to have developed an “atmosphere,” and ousted the lion’s share of that cosmic poison. Such lands are quick to nurture prosperous civilisations as more and more nomads are drawn to zephyrless refuge. It is as such unfortunate that few floatlands may brag about their atmosphere; in fact one is twice as likely to encounter a land engulfed in the zephyrous miasma. At times even, unbeknownst to the unsuspecting traveller, what might strike them as an airful land, is in truth a land with an atmosphere too thin to banish all of zephyr, and so there it flies unrestricted, sucking in quiet at the unaware guest’s sanity, until they too find themselves forever Wild-touched.

Zephyr also appears to attract, or even conjure, especially horrid weather. Whereas upon the floatlands it tends to be stable of mood -- one day mildly temperate and on another temperately harsh -- Mother Nature likes to throw a temper tantrum whenever her children attempt to sail the zephyrous space. Thunders strike aplenty from within the clouds, and wherever they can reach; powerful currents toss the feeble airships caught within them around like feathers, and the dreaded whirlwinds (although rare) may send even the strongest of vessels flying leagues away from where they were headed.

This area of the Wild, by far the most abundant, and sandwiched between land and other celestial bodies, came to be known as the Betwixt. One can not leave for a different isle without also crossing the Betwixt along the way. The act itself earned a colloquialism, “to fly betwixt.” Whenever one flies betwixt, they embark on a journey across this chasm to a neighbouring isle, taking on a tremendous risk to their life and sanity.

If we were to project the Wild on to a map; to look at the world from a bird’s perspective, we would see a clear pattern emerge to the way celestial bodies are situated. Between them are the poisonous clouds, always there and slow to madden (but sure to do so), that the Wild folks termed Betwixt:

Notice how zephyrous clouds have engulfed the smaller lands, whereas the bigger catch remains predominantly unscathed.

The Betwixt may be your best friend, or the worst enemy. It is never clear what your relationship is to be whenever you take off into the Wild, but the Betwixt is kind enough to make it apparent when comes the right moment, either with a smooth sail to your destination, or a spontaneous whirlwind until the last moment hidden inside a zephyrous nebula. On that note: pirates, marauders, and lawbreakers may find the thick shroud of a nebula, rich in zephyr, to be a wonderful hideout few orderlies would have the courage to investigate.

Zephyred isles often provide a secluded base of operations for many mages, mancers of various schools, and physicians dabbling in unorthodox fields of study. Remote, fraught with traitorous weather and poisonous amounts of zephyr, they are often left well alone, and probably for good reasons, too.

To call upon the Betwixt to deliver you from misfortune, or challenge it to a battle of luck whilst flying, is a decision you will have to make as a player. The Betwixt is as much a tool in your arsenal as it is space for you to traverse. Still, I’d advise all sailors to keep their wits about them, never you may know when your favour with the Betwixt will run out.

2nd Matter: The Semantics

People of the Wild have never known the fluctuous oceans and salted seas, as there no longer exists land big enough to hold them. This fact of life ensured that languages and cultures of the Wild never developed words to describe outspread bodies of water, the size of oceans and seas, and neither did they arrive at the words derived in part or in full from their relation to the high seas and azure mains, be they islands or archipelagos or other.

The vocabulary we earthlings turn to talking about islands and archipelagos makes little sense to wildlings. They would understand what the “land“ of an island means, but the rest would leave them befuddled. Islands and archipelagos, in particular, are terms one has to rule out for a floating world for etymological reasons. Both words, if you were to trace them all the way back to their forefathers in PIE, happen to be portmanteaus of Indo-European for “river” (proposedly) -- that which is swift -- and Indo-European for “land.“ Therefore "island” describes a piece of land rested on a body of water, which would in theory be a possible but unlikely semantic development in an environment washed at most by small rivers and lakes. Many (if not most) of Wild-born peoples would simply never come across an island anywhere in their homeland, and thus never coin the relevant term; land surrounded by water would stay the stuff of contemporary science fiction.

Since the concept of islands and the relevant word have never been coined, peoples transcending the boundaries of their homeland do not think of the land they discover flying betwixt as islands. Anything but! Instead, they would size up the newfound land (wink-wink Canadians) and term it according to scale:

Lands comparable to or greater than their own, vast and bountiful, would be judged as Greatlands.

Lands smaller, only a little or downright minute, would be recorded as Minorlands.

Most peoples distinguish between great- and minor-lands. While these are not the words they would speak in their native tongues, translated into English they best convey the semantic and conceptual process that went into and evolved the words they use to describe the lands encountered on travels across the Betwixt. To them, it would not make sense to classify the lands as islands, for “island“ as a word implies land upon water -- literally speaking -- something wildlings wouldn’t think possible.

This same line of thinking I try to apply to all the other terms native to our world yet unfounded in the Wild, and supplant them with terms both clear to us and grounded in the semantic development one would expect from a floating world, and “floating” cultures. The choice of words they make reflects the world around them, and the traits unique to its cosmology. I have to stress, though, that I’m by no means a wise-headed scholar of all humanitarian and applied disciplines alike; I’m just a hobbyist, and the neologisms I invent for the Wild are altogether speculative, and nothing more.

3rd Matter: The Floating Lands

Second in number to zephyrous clouds are the floatlands, stretching as far as the eye can see, maybe even till the very edge of the observable world. Strip the Wild of the lands, and you would render it somewhat of a desolace, sparsely dotted with an occasional nebula, shining star, or the dreaded whirlwind, stashed away someplace on the outskirts to catch oblivious explorers off guard. It is upon these pieces of land torn away from long lost planets (or the great supercontinent, or the Primordial Star, depending on what you take to be the authentic Creation Myth, for there are plenty), that the Wild’s vast majority of earth-like features unfold.

Greatlands, true to their name, happen to be the greatest in extent. They stand as the most diverse in nature and features, owing to their scale; it is not out of character for a greatland to offer a dozen different habitats for the inquisitive traveller to discover. They hoard flora and fauna that would be a curiosity to stumble upon travelling a minorland, and the magnificent mountain ranges are but an ordinary fact of life, originating from the time that there were not great lands, but one too many minorlands drifting too close to one another.

The clash, in time, erected mountains recognised in the modern age as the peaky landmarks of a great many greatlands. Rivers and lakes wash them, and many species one is to encounter throughout the Wild claim descent from one such land or the other, cementing the popular opinion among wildling scholars of greatlands as the undisputed cradle of civilisation.

Minorlands, by contrast, are the smallest of lands, and as such very homogeneous in nature and terrain. Many a time they host temperate uplands, whether defined by scorching dunes or grassy hills or bone-chilling piles of snow, and seldom have another biome. Guesting adventurers are forced to walk the same plain time and again, hoping for a path somewhere that is not a desert with no end or an ever-stretching meadow.

Yet, minorlands are famed as the best places of seclusion: farmsteads have since time immemorial bonded with these flattened blobs of dirt and thickets, their predictable weather and absence of unwarranted surprises be praised; shady sorts, too, find the safety of a remote minorland to their liking, and so do polities on the rise, erecting watchtowers upon them to spot unwanted intruders from afar. Rural and tame, predictably temperate and never at all hiding dangerous surprises, they for certain hold a slew of advantages over their great towering counterparts.

Chainlands are less so a shape or form of a land in the Wild, and more so a cluster of the two varieties aforementioned. Ages ago, the first peoples would without question have entitled them minor- and great-lands alike, but the passage of time led them to invent and construct bridges and passes to connect these lands together, in an effort to make travel much less of a burden.

Of stone, of wood, or spectral essence (born of powerful spells), bridges to a chainland are as veins to a human -- cut them down, and the chainland will be sure to suffer a fatal blow to the economy and infrastructure. This reliance on bridge-making, and bridge-keeping, had implored the Wild folk to derive a neologism to describe this network of land and bridge. The Chainlands, the lands chained one to another.

Greatlands among chainlands are few and far between, but when they are, they only ever bind the neighbouring minorlands to drift around them, like moons round a planet in our world. The pull at times is so strong that the bound minorlands break apart, forming together a ring of shredded land, themselves at times entitled the shredlands.

Minorlands, on the other hand, stand unbeaten as the most usual finds in any given chainland, and more often than not the only land there is to be seen. When it is so, and there is no greatland to project authority upon the minorlands, they tend to revolve around each other, their pull so weak that the revolution appears paused to all but the most perceptive and patient of eyes.

The rarest of all is a chainland wherein two greatlands do battle. Under that circumstance, the two colossi fight for dominance over the chainland, and in due time (lasting millennia, and longer still) the pull they exert upon one another will tear them to pieces that the future wildlings will take for minorlands. It is believed all chainlands had in the forgotten days been greatlands dueling to death, and the minorlands as a phenomenon had only emerged from the rubble the duel had left. This is however in the view of many a contradiction to the theory of minorlands as the forefathers of greatlands. Sweet, one more thing to argue about...

4th Matter: The Phenomena

Rarer even than two greatlands locked in an ageless stalemate are the naturally occurring phenomena a keen explorer is sure to come upon at some point in their chasm-crossing career. They range in scale, and use, and animosity to the beings caught in their vicinity, but all are united in the danger they pose to every living thing, sentient or otherwise. They toss, and poison, and twist the minds of their unlucky victims, and beware they who dare venture someplace never charted.

Luckily for the Wild folk, all but one known phenomena are stationary; it would take a great deal of law-breaking and space-bending power to set them in motion -- more still to make a weapon out of them -- and the very idea has become the subject of Deluge Myths among many Wild-born faiths and traditions.

Note that the list I offer down below is incomplete; it would take me too much time, too many letters, and even more brainpower to scribble all of the wild ideas I’ve come to cooking up a host of obstacles for the Player to overcome on their journey across the Betwixt. I will instead list the ones I’ve thought about the longest, ordered least to most interesting, and leave the rest for another time:

Nebulas

Native to the far corners of the Betwixt, miles upon miles away from the closest floatland, nebulae take shape when the zephyrous currents, flowing of their own accord through the Betwixt, or given a violent push from a whirlwind, come to a halt in one place, and condense into clouds. The clouds then clash and thicken, and before long turn so dense one would struggle to make out the loosest detail even ten metres ahead, and not one propeller in the Wild would have the horsepower to blow the clouds away.

Naturally, it is as dangerous to sentient life (thanks in no small part to copious amounts of zephyr) as it is useful the mortals seeking refuge or a place to hide. The big problem for them is therefore to puzzle out a way to breathe, but also maintain their clarity of mind. Devices and gear exist to protect the daring pilots, but even they give in under so much stress. Oversaturated air notwithstanding, nebulae have been known to act as naturally fortified hideouts for criminal elements; whole syndicates were fabled to raise floating fortresses amid the nebula, and sometimes they would discover by pure chance “castaway“ minorlands inside.

Few have come back to tell the tale, and so it is to this day a wonder to many; one that raises a plethora of questions, most notably the question of what else could possibly be hiding in the nebula’s heart?

Currents

Driven now by cosmic forces and then by a raging whirlwind, zephyrous currents serve to experienced pilots as motorways serve seasoned drivers here on Earth -- they send even the heaviest merchantmen flying like a lightweight schooner, at the expected cost of abnormal levels of the gas in the air. Currents and lanes are cognate, and the words are used interchangeably to refer to the same phenomenon.

While impossible to influence, to slant or pick up the pace, almost like the current of a river, they always run their course like they did since the beginning of all things. Only whirlwinds may redirect some portion of a current away into the Wild, and the lost current soon stops deep in the Wild and turns to a nebula.

Even then, the main current will get to keep the direction it is flowing, making them a tempting choice of many traders and colonists, who by force of circumstance have to man ships so heavy that the cost of travel is immense. The current step in to help, and take some of the financial edge off.

Currents may every now and again branch out, and the individual branches may converge into another current at the very tip, forming networks vital to the circulation of trade and commerce and people throughout the Wild; about as essential as bridges are to a chainland. Maps charting the currents and the branches are worth their weight in gold, and it is only natural that many explorers make a living mapping the currents they chance upon in their travels.

Whirlwinds

The fear; the nightmare of every sailor seasoned and amateur alike, are the dreaded whirlwinds. Itself a smidgen tear (or hole, a better word) in the fabric of reality, a whirlwind bends the space and time around it with a pull a quintillion times that of the largest greatland conceivable; so strong it stretches all matter too close around the dark epicentre into a bright spiral of heated zephyr, and the chunks of land and other fallen material.

There’s a constant rotation of matter happening within the whirlwind’s ring, as old matter eventually reaches the point of no-return -- the whirlwind’s lightless and lifeless centre -- and new matter takes its place. What happens to the old from that point onwards is a subject shrouded in mystery, with only a handful of scholarly works, all pure speculation, as not one Wild person has ever managed to fly close to the whirlwind and stay whole, let alone fly so close as to observe the matter being absorbed into the black core.

Legend has it, and so does science, that should a whirlwind draw too close to a greatland, it will eat it whole, bones and all, and leave not one trace behind. Thankfully, there have never been cases observed and recorded of such calamities taking place, and gods help us that they do not befall us tomorrow.

Testament to the whirlwinds’ power is their ability to draw from the current a new one, and in so doing lay foundations for new currents for the network, or even the new nebulae. They are not, as such, entirely destructive when examined under creationist light.

There are moony captains out in the Wild who may, equipped the right things, ride on the very edge of a whirlwind’s ring to gain speed one would never reach in the strongest current. Nevertheless, I’d advise you, young captain, never to consider a means of travel with a potential so devastating.

Stars

They go by many names; of their own making and christened so by their mortal worshippers from the floating lands. They prefer to name their kin Celestials, but the noble intention this word carries could not be further from their nature. Aye, the Stars of the Wild are in every way as sentient as the Wild peoples, and just as numerous, but rarely if ever benevolent. Quite the polar opposite.

Stars are power incarnate; their blinding light may scorch and turn the lesser life to smoke and ash, but it may also plant the seeds of life upon a lifeless greatland, should the Star be in the mood to curb the sunlight. The taste of this godlike privilege has driven many of them arrogant of character; reluctant to hear the plights of land-dwelling “insects” they warm, whether by choice or circumstance, and eager instead to bind them to their will.

Lands orbiting a Star, while far more bountiful than the lands lit only by the bleak natural light of the Wild, bask in the Star’s life-giving rays, and enjoy a life of everlasting overindulgence, with a sinister catch. Not so much a catch even, as a figurative leash that the Star has put them on, holding entire civilisations hostage forced to appease it, and many Stars are infamously whimsical.

All too often Star-lit lands resort to Star-worshipping zealotry, too small both in stature and in will to rise against their blinding overlord. Some did, though, and gallivanting bards sing of their ashes gliding through the Wild along the currents, the last traces of a civilisation wiped out in the flash of light...

To approach a Star is, too, an experience thrice as maddening and sickening as spending a minute too long in a nebula. The closer you drift towards them, the louder their diabolical whispers grow in your head, incessant and urging you to turn right around, or perish from your own madness. Spend long enough near a Star, and upon your unlikely return to the mainland, people will speak of you as as the Stargazer; the Star-touched. Needless to say it is an ailment every bit as chronic as the Wild-headedness.

Given this way of things, little is known to scholars from outside the Star-lit lands of the Stars’ origins, or the properties they possess besides the incomprehensible language they speak, and their obvious lust for power. It is only known of their kind that some of it is not as malevolent; the Stars aligned to do good have only been seen once or twice in known history, and few endured the pressure from their less-ethical peers so long as to live into our age. Regardless, maybe the fate will bring you together, young captain, and then you would be the one to teach me of the things you’d learnt from the meeting.

Finita La Commedia

That is all you need to know, for now, young captain, and I hope this minute handbook taught you a concept or two. Now-now, “The Unyielding” is ready, and so are you. Bewildering adventures await deep within the Wild; distant shores, bizarre creatures, and life-threatening phenomena itching to be discovered. Take notes of the things encountered and events witnessed, and maybe your findings will fetch a pretty penny. Don’t you dare approach the Stars, though, I wouldn’t wish upon my apprentice the Star’s pestilent touch. Come back to us safe and sound, friend, and pardon my sentimentality.

We all bid you a very fond farewell.

#worldbuilding #devlog #gamedev

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stylesnews · 5 years

Link

The Columbia Records marketing team behind the elaborate Eroda campaign tells all.

Eroda: No Island Quite Like It.

That's the slogan for the perpetually cloudy, frown-shaped fishing isle just off the coast of England whose name looks a lot like the title of a song on Harry Styles' upcoming Fine Line album, "Adore You" spelled backwards. And, if you haven't figured it out now that the elaborate, Dave Meyers-directed visual for the latest single from the singer's sophomore album is out, all those mysterious come-ons you've been seeing to visit the land that time (and maps) forgot was, indeed, an elaborate, calculated ruse to get Stylers pumped for the album's Dec. 13 release.

"The campaign was many months in the making and essentially this is the world that Harry and Dave Meyers built in the brilliant video... they built this incredible, dreamy world with all these different characters and stories and super-strong storytelling, a lot of emotion and interesting messages," Manos Xanthogeorgis, svp of Digital Marketing & Media at Columbia Records tells Billboard. "And then our job was to build this online and build this story and create anticipation for what was to come.”

After the fantasical video about a boy with million-watt teeth who teaches the glum imaginary island how to smile again via his friendship with a magical fish was filmed in August, the Columbia marketing team began the hard part: figuring out how to build a detailed digital world that would amp Stylers up for the big reveal. "When you have a video and a piece of art at such a level, it's an incredible challenge for the rest of the team to build a campaign at that same level of artistry and creativity," says Xanthogeorgis.

Luckily, Styles and Meyers had created a rich world with dozens of locations and characters that Xanthogeorgis and his team spent hours studying, looking for clues they could use in the stealth campaign by putting themselves in the shoes of Stylers (who see clues everywhere). There was a firm, detailed plan in place before the effort officially went live on Nov. 18 with the reveal of the innocuous-looking Eroda homepage, but, as always, Stylers had their own ideas.

As much time as the marketing team put into sprinkling crumbs across the internet, Columbia director of Digital Marketing John Salcedo says they spent almost as many hours watching and listening to how fans were reacting and revealing tidbits, working in real time and pivoting the treasure hunt based on what the amateur detectives dug up. "When they found [something] we adjusted and/or leaned on it to make sure that they could further go down the rabbit hole," says Salcedo.

The "real-time marketing" meant that the plan shifted every day, with the team working around-the-clock to read comments, dig into chat rooms, Reddit and elaborate Twitter threads filled with clues they'd planted and some they hadn't in order to see where the audience was going so they could toss seeds in the right places. "This whole campaign was around mystery and sometimes mystery is more powerful than knowldege," says Xanthogeorgis, noting that digital native fans are so used to finding any information they want very quickly online, that creating a world where answers are hard to come by was a delicious twist.

What was even more fun was seeing all the other niche groups that dove into the maw, including ARG heads, who were certain that it was a stealth campaign for some new killer digital game, or Black Mirror fans, who were convinced that Eroda was part of a new season of the hit Netflix future shock show. Even Dungeons & Dragons diehards thought Eroda might be a new fantasy world. The beauty was that Eroda was so vague that all those theories could potentially be true, which is why Xanthogeorgis and Salcedo purposely didn't do anything to dissuade rogue theories.

At one point Xanthogeorgis, who is Greek, says that even he questioned if Eroda was real after a theory posited that it was at the center of the world and definitely connected to Greek mythology. "It freaked me out how well they knew Greek mythology... it was super amusing and cool sitting on reddit and reading all these theories," he says, adding that other theories suggested Eroda was somehow stuck in time like the island in Lost.

"We wanted to keep the tone cryptic [like] we don't really know how to use social," says Salcedo of mimicking the kind of small town/island travel agency that might not necessarily know how to best answer your question, down to a purposely busted merch link. Some bunk clues included the 2004 copyright footing on the Eroda home page, meant to throw off the scent of deep-diggers who posted X-Files-like videos breaking down all the clues they'd found. And if they're being honest, Harry's fans are so dedicated that Salcedo says they somehow found the hidden first test tweet in the campaign sent in October, weeks before the official launch on Nov. 18. "This fan base is brilliant," he says. "They literally already had a hunch and figured it out 36 hours in! They had every answer ready to go."

"The most difficult part was to keep it on-brand, the mystery and the tone very, very specific," says Xanthogeorgis, who noted that real-time marketing can sometimes lead to the kind of impulsive decision-making that might have tipped the team's hand if they weren't careful. "Everything we tweeted had its purpose and there was a lot of thought behind it."

Keeping in mind, of course, that some of the clues made no sense at all in an effort to encourage Stylers to poke around every corner. "Beautiful pictures and beautiful narration of nothing," Xanthogeorgis laughed about the pretty, but intentionally vapid Eroda Instagram feed and trying-to-look official travel ad. Salcedo's proudest moment was creating and planting real-life Eroda travel brochures around New York and in Barnes & Nobles bookstores that made the whole project "larger than life."

The results speak for themselves. In the lead-up to Friday's reveal of the "Adore You" video, there were dozens of bootleg merch items available, from t-shirts and posters to rugs, stickers and shower curtains, as well as the ultimate tribute: an Urban Dictionary entry. For Xanthogeorgis, that kind of spontaneous activity showcases the power of a fictional brand that didn't exist two weeks ago, but has suddenly spawned its own virtual world of spin-off items and activity.

With "everyone" on the Columbia marketing team on deck for the campaign -- as well as Styles and his management heavily involved -- Xanthogeorgis says the hard work paid off with more than four million impressions on Twitter when the effort launched the weekend before Thanksgiving -- and "hundreds of millions" to date -- as well as a No. 1 world trending hashtag almost all day on Thursday (Dec. 5) in the lead-up to the song and video's debut.

Thursday also brought a Facebook post encouraging fans to pack their bags for the long-awaited voyage to Eroda. "They're incredibly smart, they're brilliant the way they pieced it all together," says Xanthogeorgis, who hoped fans would have their OMG moment when they finally got confirmation that it was indeed a Harry subterfuge on Friday morning once all those clues that made no sense finally came into view.

"In this day and age when there is so much out there getting people to pay attention to one thing is really satifsying," says Xanthogeorgis.

#harry styles #dec19 #adoreyou #article #billboard #eroda

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thatweirdocryptid · 8 months

Note

Sun says hi!

How are you doing today?

DHDJBFSJDNSJDJ

I am doing great too!

Doing a little project about The Cryptic Isles! (Ray's home)

#cryptid talks #cryptid rants #The Cryptic Isles

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thestylesindependent · 5 years

Text

Inside Eroda, the fictional Harry Styles island that’s baffled the internet

Full Text from The Telegraph 4/12/2019

It all started on November 20. A Twitter account opened in October released its first post: “The Isle of Eroda’s rich history is embedded in daily life as the ruins of many structures from the past remain standing across the land. #VisitEroda”

It looked like a new marketing campaign for a little-visited, off-beat beauty spot. But a quick search would show it didn’t actually exist. Yet, Eroda had a website. Advertisements for the place were popping up on Facebook and Google. People interested in all manner of nerdy subcultures were foxed – it had the whiff of a clever marketing campaign about it, but what was it for?

Within hours, an Eroda subreddit had been created to discuss it. People dived deep into web hosting details, and only became more baffled as they seemed legitimate: “it ain't no kid doing a school project”. Was it a scam, a game, an elaborate prank? Some were convinced it was the beginning of a new Cloverfield film, World of Warcraft, a new Channel 4 series or even a means of human trafficking.

Meanwhile, scores of “Harries”, the sub-group of Directioners dedicated to Harry Styles, were piecing bits of evidence together. The pop star was due to release Adore You, the second single off his forthcoming sophomore album. “Adore” backwards was “Eroda”, and the video, released on November 23, looked like it had been shot in St Abbs, the Berwickshire fishing village where Styles had been spotted shooting in August. As Eroda claimed more of the internet, Harries – some of the most forensic fans in the world – were sent into a flurry of investigation.

The goliath churn of a pop star marketing campaign is fairly familiar by now: cryptic social media teaser, excitable release date news, lyric video, full video, rinse, repeat.

Styles, who will release sophomore album Fine Line on December 13 and Adore You on Friday, satisfied many speculating fans on Monday with a near-three-minute-long trailer for the single, along with an illustration of the star standing in the ocean, surrounded by fish.

To those who had been studying Eroda for the past 10 days it was the confirmation they had been hankering for: Eroda was a Harry Styles project, and it confirmed what they had always known – that he is an artist beyond the normal realms of pop frippery (by contrast, former bandmate Louis Tomlinson spent the same afternoon releasing a video in which he sings in a bunker wearing a Stone Island parka).

Styles’ trailer introduced Eroda, showing it to be an island in the middle of the Irish Sea “shaped unmistakably like a frown, it is home to an all-but-forgotten fishing village that has had perpetual cloud cover for as long as anyone can remember”. Scenes appear of a typical coastal village, with crashing waves and brave little houses facing them. It gets increasingly weird: we learn that it is bad luck to “mention a pig in a fisherman’s pub” and to “whistle in the wind, in case you turn a gust into a gale”; the island mustn’t be left on odd-numbered days.

The inhabitants of Eroda’s village always frown, calling it “resting fish face”. Until, that is, a beaming baby appears amidst the gloom. Deemed “peculiar” (a word that pops up a lot), the boy – who grows up to become Harry Style – was outcast, leading him to deal with his angst by screaming into jars. “He had lost his smile, and without it, the world grew darker, the wind colder, and the ocean more violent” the pan-European narrator explains. “Loneliness is an ocean full of travellers trying to find their place in the world”, she continues, as Harry finds himself bonding with a stubborn fish, before the film ends “to be continued…”

So far, so intriguing. But delve a little deeper into Eroda and you may find yourself wanting to visit. The island’s website – beautiful island views and a template dating back to the late Noughties – looks remarkably similar to those for any other charming coastal holiday destination, say Bute or Oban. “No Land Quite Like It”, reads Eroda’s strapline, before offering a familiar-enough menu: Accommodations, Attractions, Guide, Home and About Eroda. The video is similarly convincing: “Make memories for your senses at VisitEroda.com”, a dulcet-voiced woman encourages over shots of crabmeat and speedboats.

It didn’t take long for the Harries to take over the Eroda subreddit, moderators becoming increasingly rigid in ruling nuggets of unrelated Eroda flotsam irrelevant to the cause of discovery (such as the user who wanted to discuss Eroda, but without any intervention from the Harries). Tumblr users were similarly invested: “What do the ominous references to Him portend? What are they serving at those town dinners? You think it’s a cute little coastal AU [alternative universe] but upon closer examination it’s full-on Wicker Man meets Hotel California meets Nightvale in the afterlife (which is what most of those places are anyway so sure why not),” posted 1D Discourse of the Day.

The whole thing is littered with wordplay. Eroda, for one, is Adore backwards (Harry’s next single is called Adore You). But, as Directioners have pointed out, the copy throughout the website nods to forthcoming Styles songs: The Fisherman’s Pub is located on the corner of Cherry Street and Golden Way (Cherry is one new song, Golden is another); the album will be released on Friday, 13 December and Eroda recommends avoiding a departure on an odd-numbered day. Eroda’s fishermen wear a single gold earring for good fortune – a look historically sported by Styles.

Directioners went further still: the hosting for VisitEroda.com and Styles’ website, doyouknowwhoyouare.com, were owned by the same company, MarkMonitor.inc. Social media pixels linked pages about Styles with Eroda. Fans became suspicious over Visit Eroda adverts appearing not on their social channels or YouTube, but, of all places, on Wikipedia. “I'M FROM FRICKING PORTUGAL,” a baffled Reddit user posted. “NOTHING EVER HAPPENS HERE. WHY IS THIS HERE”.

Eroda had analog presence, too. A4 pamphlets – the kind of thing one could make on MS Publisher circa 1998 – appeared in the freesheet boxes on the pavements of Manhattan. At a promo event in Paris, Harry was asked about Eroda by a fan. He remained silent, but those who were there claim he “made a face”.

By November 29, more evidence arrived. A short film “advert”, which used footage from the trailer released on Monday, was screened by a new Harry Styles fan account from “Eroda”. They said the film appeared in a cinema in Kinlochbervie, on Scotland’s northern coast; the Eroda account then started to tweet about cinema screening times. Eagle-eyed fans were swift to post screengrabs, showing similar island formations in the background of both the Eroda advert and that featuring Styles. The two were linked.

Kinlochbervie was, fittingly, a bit of a red herring: the footage shown in both the advert and the video trailer was actually taken in St Abbs, a picturesque fishing village in Berwickshire that’s no stranger to a rolling camera – it was “twinned” with New Asgard after being used as a location for Thor’s new home in Avengers Endgame.

Styles was there in August, shooting, it appears, a few things for the forthcoming album campaign. He and his crew used Angela Morris’s cottage, in St Abbs’ Sea View Terrace, as a green room during the three days of filming in the village, after Morris had responded to a note being popped through the door from a filming company. “One Thursday I was just coming home from work and there was Harry walking into the house,” she tells me. “All of the costumes were in the living room, make-up was going on in the kitchen.

“I asked if I could wait in the garden before my husband and I went out for the evening, so I just sat there when Harry came out,” Morris said. “I think he was having a coffee, and he sat down and chatted, asked me about bits and pieces about the village. I was talking to him about his Gucci clothes and we had a bit of a laugh. I wasn’t too starstruck, really, and I think he appreciated that.” Later on in the shoot, Styles invited Morris and her husband to share a glass of champagne with him and the crew.

While the shoot interrupted the sleepy pace of life on St Abbs for a few days – Morris says that visitor numbers had already been boosted by Avengers Endgame but small crowds of teenage girls began to crop up after word spread of Harry’s location – most villagers, she reckons, are pleased to see the place put on the map: “Most people I saw were embracing it and interested to see what was going on.”

A German artist named Mario Klingemann was, however, more incensed when his holiday collided with the shoot: “I didn't know who Harry Styles was until today when I learned that he's the guy who blocked off the entire St Abbs harbour and prevented us from enjoying our fresh crab rolls," he posted on Twitter, aggrieved.

But Morris found out about Eroda much like everybody else – through Facebook. “It’s really odd,” she assess. “Lovely footage of beautiful St Abbs, though.”

Long-lens pap shots from that shoot certainly seem to match up with what we’ve seen of Eroda so far. Styles gangles around in Seventies suits, befitting the aesthetic of his trailer. The smoking gun, though, is the presence of a young woman with hair that brings to mind a Dr Seuss illustration, or the hat Princess Beatrice wore at the Cambridges’ wedding. VisitEroda’s “about” page explains: “The primary occupation in Eroda is fishing, however, the island’s art scene has recently started to develop. In particular, Erodean hairstyles have become a rather bold expression of self amongst the island’s youth”. Clearly, these are scenes of Eroda that are being filmed.

There’s an unmistakably ominous air to Eroda, and some believe the video for Adore You will see some misfortune befall Styles – there were reports of a (fake) gunshot being filmed in St Abbs while he was there.

But what happens next is arguably less intriguing than what we’ve been given with Eroda so far. We are well-used to being nudged and prodded by pop stars ahead of a new release. Major albums aren’t so much brought out as “dropped” or “leaked”, arriving online in the middle of the night before their fans disseminate them through the internet. Fans, rather than critics, are given early listens – and under tight NDAs. Artists will clear their channels to mark a new direction, only to give us elaborate photoshoots and contrived poetry to create a “concept”.

Eroda is undeniably a “concept” – themes of loneliness, peculiarity, conformity and happiness have been woven into the fictional island from the off. But it’s been artfully done; look deep enough into the Reddit forums and you’ll see non-Styles fans begrudgingly accepting that this is the work of a former boy band frontman, rather than that of a somehow more “serious” game creator, filmmaker or even musician. Furthermore, it’s fun – and that’s all too rare in a pop world where things have become obsessed with authenticity, and a rogue comment can result in “cancellation”. One Directioner popped up on a thread only to add, “As someone who works in marketing/promotion... This is fucking genius. Harry Styles' team is tops”, and it’s difficult to disagree.

After a decade in which stars have had to up their social media presence to survive, tweaking and teasing their listenership in ever-increasing desperation to retain shrinking attention spans, Styles is closing out the 2010s with the greatest album campaign we’ve seen so far. As an artistic statement, it suggests the 2020s will be his to claim.

#harry styles #eroda #press #the telegraph #dec2019 #long post

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lo-55 · 4 years

Text

Shattered Chains or Fate Ch. 6

Isle of Towers, Glass, and Stone

The answers might lie within.

Great. Now the problem is, how does he find those answers at all? How does he go ‘within’ when most of the time he’s going ‘outside’ of his body. Projecting his soul was one thing. He’d done it a dozen times, if not more. Going inside of it? Or his mind? Or whatever within the cryptic asshole of a mage had suggested, was a totally different matter.

“Fucking everyone’s so damn cryptic all the time,” Ichigo scowled, pacing around the house. The cat was still there, watching him with her tail twitching back and forth.

Ichigo still doesn’t know who she’s working for.

There’s about three mage families in the country that are prominent. Tohsaka’s work with gems, the Matou are mostly fallen, and he doesn’t know anything about the other one. Ichigo should probably be more concerned, but he’s got bigger things to worry about right now.

Mainly, figuring out how to find his answers on the inside.

Inside.

Ichigo kept walking in circles, trying to figure it out. Over and over, he walked around and around. In a spiral.

Finally he sat hard on the floor and leaned back.

Jeanne would pray. But she was guided by a god, and an Agent of Counterforce (or some approximation of it). Sanzang followed the voice of buddha/her future self. And Ichigo…

Ichigo has an ever cryptic sage telling him to look inside himself for answers, like something out of a bad movie. Hell, his life at this point might as well be just that. Who else gets into these kinds of situations constantly?

Just him, that’s who.

Ichigo tilts his head back. He’s spent time outside his body. How will he get inside it?

“A backwards… Rayshift?”

Is that even possible? It’s the best idea he has. Ichigo closes his eyes and thinks of Rashifting. The first time it had happened, he had been on the verge of death. Mash had been all but a corpse at his side. Fire had licked across them and CHALDEAS had glowed bloody above their heads. It had vanished, the red turned blue and bright and the fire clearing for a few brief seconds between Chaldea and Fuyuki.

Ichigo breathes, focusing on that.

On the blue, the soft light and the feeling of being weightless. On the knowledge that someone, even if it wasn’t Roman anymore, was out there looking after the integrity of his soul. He breathed in, tasting the air, tasting no ash.

Ichigo breathed out.

He thought of the feeling of Rukia’s gloved hand pushing him out with a rough pop. He thought of the feeling of Kon, sliding into his limbs and chest and head until he was squeezed with no room and no place to go but out.

Ichigo felt the swirl of the shift, the gravity, the whirlpool of energy.

The swirl to the halo of the past. Out, out, out.

Ichigo breathed in and pulled the whirlpool with him. He inverted the spiral of blue and white and light and gravity and twisted it not out of himself but in .

It was the feeling of falling. It was the feeling of flying. It was a pull that he didn’t quite understand, the tug of his instinct dragging him out of danger.

It was the feeling of cement under his feet. It was the feeling of glass against his cheek.

It was a pale blue sky, with smokey puffs of rain clouds floating high above him.

“The fact that you are not more afraid of this man really only leads credibility to my idea that you are insane . He’s at least ten times stronger than all of your companions.”

Ichigo glances sideways, and Kyo. He leans against the wall, watching Karna with something like respect, or maybe admiration in his gaze. Ichigo can understand. Even from as far away as they are, he can feel the heat radiating off of the son of the sun god. It blooms against his skin, but doesn’t scorch him. Not yet, in any case.

It feels strange. This Karna is not the Karna that Ichigo had met and fought against and within his dream of Trifas. They were the same, at their core, but this one didn’t know him. This one wasn’t his friend. This one hadn’t fought a vampire and a near endless supply of false Servants with him.

Instead, this one was here to stop him from going to Edison. To stop him from forcibly beating sense into the insane american presi-king.

It would have been intimidating, but even now Ichigo can tell that Karna doesn’t actually want to kill them.

Like all of those heroes born in the Age of Gods, Karna is insanely powerful. Before him Ichigo is little more than an ant to be stepped on. This Hero of Charity is a legend in every sense, and his reputation is earned. The spikes on his collar speak of danger and death. The spear in his hands pulses with the power and radiates heat like pavement on a summer day.

Karna is the child of a god, and they are, in the end, little more than human.

Kyo isn’t. He’s strong, Ichigo knows that too. He’s at least as strong as some Servants, and Ichigo is certain he’s stronger than he’s letting them think he is. Not only is he strong, he’s smart, and good as playing at being harmless. Even if Ichigo is the only one who can see him regularly, he won’t drop the fake smile on his lips.

How annoying.

“You should withdraw at once!” Nightingale calls to their foe. Ichigo has no intention of letting him stay an enemy, but for now he can’t do anything. They have to beat him first, and then beat Edison over the head.

“Perhaps you’re right. I am infected by an illness called ‘loyalty’. Figuring that out so fast, is it because you’re a nurse?” his head cocks just so.

Nightingale huffs. “No. You’re just easy to understand.”

Ichigo watches Karna deflate, looking upset. “Oh no, we ruined his mystery,” Ichgo couldn’t help teasing.

Mash looked equally put off. “He seems somewhat depressed…”

“Thank you for pointing that out. But no matter. He asked for my help first, and that is all I need to know. The king of inventions knelt before a worthless man like me and asked my help. Besides,” A smile, as warm as his magic, spread across Karna’s face. “He reminds me of a friend. And I am only human, don’t forget.”

“‘Only human’ says the demigod,” Ichigo mutters to Kyo, who snorts elegantly. “We should get this over with.”

“You can’t hope to win,” Kyo argues, but he’s clearly getting used to ichigo’s stubborn nature.

“Fucking watch us.”

Ichigo draws up, prepared to fight-

And Karna turns and walks back down the hallway, called away by Edison.

“Huh. So it’s going to be a trap?” Ichigo muses.

“ ‘ow can is be a trap, if ya know i’s gonna happen?” Cu asks, propping his elbow on Ichigo’s shoulder and leaning on his master. Ichigo scowls at him and shoves him off, but it’s more playful than anything else.

“If it is a trap, it’s wiser for you not to spring it,” Kyo ads.

“Okay, fine. You’re invisible. Go in there and see what we’re up against.” Ichigo points towards the high door to the throne room, at the end of the hall. Kyo just gives him a look.

“Do I look like a servant?” Kyo arches a brow at him regally, and Ichigo shoots him a baleful glare. “Fine. But I expect you to do something for me, in return.”

“Oh joy,” Ichigo rolls his eyes as Kyo walks through the walls, towards the presi-kings throne room. Now he owed a dead man a debt. Just once in his life couldn't one of these people be cooperative? He’d kill to have Chad here with him, even if it was just as emotional support in all this madness.

“Poor master,” Mash mourns. “You look rather mad when you stand there talking at thin air.”

“Hmm?” Medusa cocks her head. “I don’t know, the longer I’m attached to him, the more I think I see faint shadows about where he’s talking at. But that could be my imagination…:

“It could make sense,” Ichigo admitted, “I have poison resistance thanks to Mash. Maybe you guys get to see dead people.”

“Master,” she says slowly, “ We are dead people.”

Ichigo scowls. “Don’t be a smart ass.”

“It’s better than a dumb ass.”

He jumps when Kyo’s voice comes from behind him, smooth and full of amusement. Ichigo turns to scowl at him, but the man is unphased.

“It does seem like it will be a straightforward confrontation. My, you must all be terrible at assassinations.”

Ichigo smacks his arm when Robin winces, missing the fact that Robin must have been able to hear the jibe at his failure. With a frown at Kyo, he leads the way to battle.

* *

He’s laying on a building. Sideways on a building, if he wants to be picky about it.

Ichigo sits up, slowly, looking down at the streets. It’s not the weirdest thing to ever happen. But still weird. Below him looks like a small Karakura town, and outwards are other skyscrapers, and towers of stone and glass. He can recognize turrets of castles that crash haphazardly into pillars of a familiar roman theatre. A flag with a fleur de lis floats in the distance, small atop a dusty building of the Old West. Between some wind long mountain roads that hitch into the metal and stone unnaturally. He can’t see the street, it’s flooded with water and dark shapes move beneath the surface.

Ichigo stands, slowly, trying to focus on staying attached to the building he’s on. He doesn’t dare jump. He might die.

He might actually be dead for all he knows. Did he just accidentally kill himself? This doesn’t look like any afterlife he’s ever heard of…

It was certainly not Kur. Ichigo hopes he hasn’t died. He has promises he needs to keep, and dying would be a conflict of interests right now.

All around him are remnants of places he’s known, of his home and the lands he’s seen. The sky scrapers reach high into the sky, like the fingers of some great giant trying to grasp the clouds themselves.

Ichigo turns his face to the sky. There’s no sun, and far off in the horizon storm clouds brew in dark, angry shades of grey.

“Okay. This is not great,” he says at last. “Where am I?”

Something ruffles the back of his neck, like wind only the air is still and he spins around on his heel, until he sees something dark and flicking behind him. A person. A man, in a black coak that billows around his ankles. It’s edged in red.

“Hey, old man!” Ichigo spins to face him fully. “Who are you?”

“Who am I? I am _____”

Ichigo stares. He couldn’t hear him. He heard every word but his name. Why? What cut it off? There’s no wind, no sound, nothing that would do that.

Even though the strangers face is largely impassive, Ichigo can still see the slightest slanting of his eyes. His disappointment.

“I see. How sad, even now you can’t hear my voice. You, who knows me better than anyone else.”

“What are you talking about?” Ichigo crosses his arms over his chest as the man walks down the pole he’d been standing on and onto the side of the building in front of Ichigo. The distance between them feels like a chasm. “I’ve never met you before.”

Snow flutters around them, small flakes that stick to nothing. It’s just a playful flurry, flickering cold across his skin before it disappears again.

“You’ve known me all your life, even if you don’t know it. And I have known you. I know why you’re here. You’re looking to become another Shinigami, aren’t you?”

Ichigo pauses, but nods in the end. Who is this man? How does he know this? He does feel familiar. More familiar than Chad. More familiar than Mash, even. Why…?

“The old man in the hat said it’s possible, but I have to die. And I can’t do that. I have a promise to keep, so I have to stay alive and save Rukia before I fulfill it. And to do that, I need power I don’t have. Rukia lent me hers, but that’s gone now. There’s no one else anymore.”

No Rukia. No Mash. No Medusa, or Cu. No Romani.

Just him.

“I have no one else to rely on. I have to stand on my own two feet. I have to fight with my own two hands.”

“That’s not true.”

The man walks towards him slow, his heels clicking on the glass of the building.

“Rukia’s power may be gone, but Urahara Kisuke was no wrong when he declared that you have your own Shinigami powers. And you do not fight alone, Ichigo. I fight with you. I always have.”

There’s a vicious vow somewhere in his level voice. A yearning that Ichigo almost misses.

“I don’t understand. Who are you?” Ichigo shakes his head, trying to make sense of everything that’s happening.

The man looks at him, and opens his mouth to repeat his name.

“I am _____”

* * *

They’re the only ones awake.

Ichigo is used to late nights. Sleep is hard to come by these days, and he usually only gets it when he’s too tired to even think, or when Mash’s solid shield lays beside him. The others are doing better than he is. They’re heroes and legends and myths. They have stronger hearts than he does.

Ichigo walks quietly, not so far from the camp that he’ll get himself killed, but far enough that his movements won’t disturb his friends. Medusa is on watch at the perimeter, and she tosses him a somewhat concerned look, but doesn’t try to interrupt him when he sits beside Kyo.

He’s got questions. About a million of them about the afterlife, but he doesn’t really have time for all of them at one time.

And one top of questions about the afterlife, he has just as many about Kyo himself. He’s a mystery. He’s not a heroic spirit. And really, he has no reason to be following Ichigo around besides the fact that Ichigo has forcefully dragged him along.

Not that Kyo couldn’t get away if he wanted to. Ichigo is no fool. Everyone here could kill him with a napkin.

Kyo doesn’t acknowledge him when he sits beside him. Instead he keeps his eyes on the sky. On the stars haloed by the light in the sky. Even with it, there’s a thousand stars in the sky that Ichigo would never be able to see in Karakura. There’s too much light, even in a small city to be able to see this many stars.

The whole milky way stretched across the sky, a painted band of blue and white and pink towards the edge of the horizon.

“Is it the same?” he finds himself asking. Kyo makes a sound of question in the back of his throat, so he elaborates. “The sky. Is it the same where you’ve come from?”

“Seireitei,” Kyo says the words slowly. “The stars are the same, but that’s about it.”

“How do you mean? Isn’t it supposed to be a paradise? Like, Heaven? Elysium? Tian? Valhallah?”

“Are you going to keep listing off afterlifes until I give you a real answer?” Kyo cocks his head, looking somewhat amused.

Ichigo shoots him a crooked grin. “I absolutely will.”

“My, you’re a pest.”

“And you’re rude. Fields of Yula, asphodel, f olkvangr- ”

Kyo claps his hand over ichigo’s mouth to finally shut him up, and Ichigo scowls at him without heat and with smugness.

“Soul Society isn’t exactly like those stories,” Kyo’s smile is somehow soft and bitter and sad at once. Ichigo doesn’t know what to make of it.

“So it’s no paradise,” Ichigo surmises.

Kyo’s brow pinches and his mouth twists. “No. Not quite.”

“Is there some rule saying that you’re not allowed to tell me?”

“No,” Kyo says slowly,” But it is, ill advised. We are taught to tell the souls to pass on that they will find a good place in the next world. A paradise. So they don’t fight us going into a world not so unlike their own. “

“Wow you make death sound inviting,” Ichigo says dryly. He manages to startle a laugh out of Kyo before he sobers again, looking to the stars.

“The closer to the seireitei you get, the better the quality of life. In the first few districts people generally want for nothing, and are elbow to elbow with nobility and their retainers, if they aren’t one of those things already. Most nobles live in Seireitei itself, safe in their walls. But further away…”

“Further away you find the poor, the downtrodden. Poverty is prevalent. Rukongai is separated into districts. Past the fifty ninth districts, most people can’t even afford sandals.It’s violent and bloody out there, and the people who have the most power are the ones least likely to help.”

Kyo’s hands curl and his mouth twists.

Ichigo leans back on his hands. “You should get tips from Robin for overthrowing governments.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Kyo shakes his head, but there’s a light in his eyes that makes Ichigo think that the idea has already crossed his mind at least once. “This is actually my first trip to the human world. I was supposed to arrive in Kyoto, but something went wrong, and now I’m here.”

“It’s probably because Kyoto no longer exists,” Ichigo figures, solemnly, “The only land that exists at this time is here. The United States. Everywhere else has been completely obliterated.”

They had to reverse that. They had to stop this war.

* * * *

They’re caught between a rock and a hard place. Literally.

Ichigo and his Servants, minus Scathach who’s gone ahead of them, are cornered by monsters only Ichigo and Kyo can see and touch.

Kyo is strong. Incredibly strong. He’s already cut down more of the swarm that Ichigo would have ever imagined, and blasted even more with fierce spells of blue and red energy. Yellow chains, and dark crescents. But they just keep coming, and now there’s even stronger ones ripping their way through the sky. They’re smaller and more distinct than the first wave, and as powerful as fifty of them combined.

Even Kyo is struggling against the dozens of them that rip through the sky.

Then it happens.

One of them targets Ichigo and Kyo appears in front of him, striking it down. A second comes screaming in from the side and tears into Kyo’s sword arm.

Blood splatters against Ichigo's cheek.

“Kyo!” Ichigo lunges for him, but Kyo puts up his good hand, stopping him.

“Stay where you are! You’ll only get in the way if you can’t fight. Damn, why are they all here at once?” Kyo grits his teeth and lifts his left arm, shooting off more spells, but without his sword, he’s struggling more to keep up.

Ichigo burns with the feeling of being helpless. He can’t stay there and do nothing.

So he does the only thing he can do.

He shoots forwards, to Kyo’s back, and claps his hand on Kyo’s shoulder. He pours all the spirit energy he possible can into Kyo’s body, until he’s glow with it, blue and white. Kyo looks back at him, stunned.

“Don’t just stand there!” Ichigo barks. “Hit them!”

Kyo nods, once, looking dazed, and lifts his arm at the monsters closing in on them.

“ Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! On the wall of blue flame, inscribe a twin lotus. In the abyss of conflagration, wait at the far heavens.”

Blue swirls in front of him, a ball of raw power that flashes and lashes out at the edges, dragging burn scars into the ground and drawing blood off of Kyo’s arms.

“ Hado seventy three! Soren Sokatsui!”

It tears away from Kyo and Ichigo in a devastating force, ripping through the ground and shredding all the monsters in front of them into nothing more than burnt husks.

Ichigo has time enough to register Kyo looking at him with a new light in his eyes before he falls to the ground, the world going black.

* * * * *

“I see.”

The disappointment is back in the man’s face, and it makes Ichigo’s skin crawl. He doesn’t know why. This is a perfect stranger, he shouldn’t care so much what he thinks about him. But he does. It feels gross, a bur under his skin that he just can’t shake.

“You still cannot hear me. Very well then. Perhaps you will hear my voice once you have unlocked your Shinigami powers.”

“Uh huh. I don’t suppose you have a key for that, do you old man?” Ichigo asks, crossing his arms over his chest. The man cocks his head ever so slightly. His hair waves in time with his coat and he taps the window beneath him with the toe of his shoe.

“This world exists inside of you. Inside of your mind. Inside of your very soul. Somewhere in here, somewhere in all these windows and bricks and everything else you’ve ever made a home for in here, you will find what you seak. You will find your shinigami powers somewhere here. Somewhere within.”

“Just like that man said…”

Ichigo is glad for the opportunity, but he doesn’t want to be the one to tell Merlin he was right. The Mage of Flowers will be even more smug than he already is, and Ichigo does not need that at all.

“Fine. I just have to find it then.”

He had no idea how he would do that. If this was inside of him, what would happen if he broke something? What would a shattered window do to he himself? He could only speculate, and he didn’t like any of the things he thought of. So he’d have to go by it delicately.

Was that possible? The only way into the buildings would be through doors that are now thoroughly covered in water.

Needle in a haystack much?

Ichigo runs his fingers through his hair and tilts his head, closing his eyes in thought.

If he was shinigami powers, where would he hide?

Nowhere in the brackets of mountains. Nor in the theatre, or the tall castle towers. Nowhere that he was a Mage.

That ruled out a lot.

This guy said he’d always been with him. Did that mean he was a shinigami this whole time? Why hadn’t they come to him earlier? During the wars? In Kur?

On the banks of the Karakura river.

Ichigo shook his head and opened his eyes again. The old man was staring at him. Waiting. Watching. It was a little creepy. Ichigo’s hair brushed his shoulders when he turned his head to the side, looking down at the water.

Somehow, he had to find his Shinigami powers.

It had to be somewhere in these blue buildings. Maybe…

Ichigo knelt down, knocking at the window under his feet curiously. It was totally solid. There didn’t seem to be so much as a hinge to open it. But inside, there, something white fluttered around.

“...fuck it.”

Ichigo punched his hand through the glass, ignoring the way the shards bit into his arm, and grabbed it. When he pulled his hand back he found a ribbon in his grasp.

White ribbons. Like the ones Uryu had shown him before.

That's it!

Ichigo jumped back, as high up as he could. He landed on the air, the way he had as a shinigami. This was it. This was how he could find it. He scoured the building, the windows, looking for anything that wasn’t blue and white. Anything. It had to be somewhere.

C’mon. Red, red, red-

Ichigo drops back onto the building, understanding dawning. He makes his way over to the strange man and reaches out, grasping the straight sword he’d been standing on before. He pulls, and in his hand comes away a red ribbon that wraps around his wrist. As he pulls the sword from its sheath it flashes with pale blue light, until he’s holding a massive sword almost as long as his body.

Ichigo grins sharply at the old man, a name blossoming on his lips. They speak as one, voices merging.

“Zangetsu.”

Ichigo swings the sword to the side. It feels effortlessly light despite how large it is. It isn’t the foreign feeling of Rukia's power. This is his, and his alone.

When he looks down, he’s wearing Shinigami clothes again. If Kyo could see him now.

“Congratulations, Ichigo. You are, again, a Shinigami.” His voice is low and even. Ichigo glances at his eyes, half hidden by sunglasses.

“Thanks. Although to be honest…. I was kind of hoping I’d be a Quincy, like my mother.”

He doesn’t miss the startled jerk of Zangetsu’s head.

* * * * * *

#bleach #bleach fanfiction #bleach/fate grand order #Kon bleach #Ichigo Kurosaki #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #well sorta #Merlin Fate/Grand Order #Urahra Kisuke #Zangetsu #fate grand order #mash kyrielight #kyo (SCoF)

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evoldir · 11 months

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Fwd: Postdoc: UYork_UK.AnthropoceneIntrogression

Begin forwarded message: > From: [email protected] > Subject: Postdoc: UYork_UK.AnthropoceneIntrogression > Date: 8 November 2023 at 06:51:27 GMT > To: [email protected] > > > Adaptive introgression in the Anthropocene > > We are looking for a 3 year postdoctoral research associate (PDRA) > to work on a NERC-funded project "Adaptive introgression in the > Anthropocene" led by Kanchon Dasmahapatra at the University of York. > The main aim of the project is to understand the prevalence and > impact of gene flow between native and non-native flowering plant > species in the British Isles making use of newly generated genome > assemblies and large whole genome resequence datasets. > > Human translocation of species and anthropogenic climate change are > resulting in some of the fastest rates of species distribution > changes ever seen, causing many native and non-native species to > be brought together. While the ecological consequences are often > well-documented, the evolutionary impacts of hybridization and gene > flow between native and non-native species are usually less visible. > In this ambitious project we will leverage reference genomes produced > by the Darwin Tree of Life project and combine high-throughput > sequencing with the latest bioinformatic methods to address a major > question of growing importance: What is the extent of gene flow > between native and non-native flowering plant species, and is this > gene flow of adaptive value to native or non-native species? These > data will be used to parameterise models predicting the rate of > gene flow between native and non-native species, and test model > estimates of cryptic gene flow among species pairs that have not > been observed to hybridize. The British flora is intensively studied, > and its well characterised distributions, hybrids and ecology make > it an ideal model system to build predictive models exploring > ecological and genetics factors affecting the rates and effects of > gene flow between native and non-native species. > > The PDRA will be based in York at the Leverhulme Centre for > Anthropocene Biodiversity > (https://ift.tt/OgGNyIf), and be supervised > by Kanchon Dasmahapatra (https://ift.tt/BZ6ibrW). > > Project co-investigators and partners: Alex Twyford and Simon Martin > (University of Edinburgh), Pete Hollingsworth and Markus Ruhsam > (Royal Botanic Garden, Edinburgh), Chris Thomas (University of > York), Mark Blaxter (Wellcome Sanger Institute), Kevin Walker > (Botanical Society of Britain and Ireland). > > Closing date: 4th December 2023. Start Date: 1st February 2024 > (negotiable). > > For informal enquiries email [email protected]. > > To apply click the "Apply now" button at the bottom of the University > of York job advertisement: > https://ift.tt/48OWFq5 > > > Prof Kanchon Dasmahapatra ([email protected]) > Professor of Evolutionary Biology > Director of Postgraduate Research (Biology) > Department of Biology > University of York > York YO10 5DD > Tel: +44 (0)1904 328635 > > > > Kanchon Dasmahapatra

#IFTTT #Email

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razaks-wheel · 4 years

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[Intro story for Favali Nerenim, my new Clockwork Apostle Vestige. She just crawled out of the Clockwork City, was promptly killed, and now has just crawled out of Coldharbour. Fun fact: Seht had no idea she was going to be killed as part of her Prisoner journey, or he definitely would have said something.]

---

As soon as the Prophet's projection was gone, Favali ventured out of the bedroom. There was a lot to process, but first she would like to know where she was and what was going on. A Dunmer woman in heavy armor with an authoritative look stood in the upper hall. She figured that was as good a place as any to start.

"You're the one Holsgar pulled out of the water," the woman said when she saw her approach. "I'm glad you're up."

Favali was relieved to hear her speaking Dunmeris. She knew Cyrodilic well enough, but most of her experience came from the classroom and books. She was much less comfortable with it than with her native language, and her mind was already struggling to let her use language at all.

"Greetings, sera. I'm Favali Nerenim." What else could she add? She didn't know where she was or how exactly she got here, or even what she was supposed to be doing.

"Well met, Favali. I'm Captain Rana. I'm in charge of the troops garrisoned here."

"Pleasure to meet you," Favali said. "And, forgive me, but where is 'here,' exactly?"

"Bleakrock Isle. A little backwater island nestled between Skyrim and Vvardenfell. Nord territory, but we're all part of the Ebonheart Pact these days." She eyed Favali. "You don't look like you're from around here. Are those clockwork arms?"

"Technically, they're just gloves. I haven't had my real arms replaced yet," she said with half a laugh. "But yes, I'm from the Clockwork City. I'm a Clockwork Apostle, actually."

Rana's eyes widened. "By Vivec, I've never met anyone from your order. I didn't even know you could leave Sotha Sil's city."

"It's rare, for sure. I'm actually here on Nirn-Above for a mission. A rather cryptic mission, but you know Sotha Sil." She tried to shrug nonchalantly, as though the nature of her cryptic mission were not weighing on the back of her mind. "Speaking of, I don't suppose there's a shrine to the Three around here? I could use a check-in."

"I bet you could; I can't imagine what you've been through. There's nothing formal on the island, but I have my own makeshift shrine by my bed." She gestured toward the room from which Favali came. "You're more than welcome to use it."

"Thank you very much, serjo." She made a gesture of blessing and returned to the bedroom.

The shrine was indeed what one might consider "makeshift," consisting of a small triptych, a candle, a few knickknacks, and a prayer book. It was mostly oriented toward Vivec, but it would do. She stood before it, took a moment to meditate on her current state, picked up the prayer book and began.

"Blessed are we who serve ALMSIVI." She ran through the general prayer service until she reached the freeform section. "Sotha Sil, Divine Mystery,

"It's been an unknown number of clicks of the gear, but already I feel so far from your guiding light. I was...killed. It feels so strange to say. I was killed, but now I'm alive. Do I have you to thank for my life? Or—forgive me this blasphemy—do I have you to thank for my death?

"Regardless, alive or not, my soul is in Coldharbour. Missing it is like a constant, dull ache. Perhaps I should offer a prayer to the Healing Mother Almalexia to ease the pain. But—forgive my doubt—can anyone relieve the pain of a lost soul?

"My patron, how could you let Molag Bal steal your servant's soul? Have I wronged you? Have I failed in my mission so soon, or was this part of your plan? I know that Mystery is your domain, but I would have appreciated being warned." She closed her eyes and let the tears that had been gathering fall down her cheeks, and then took a breath to focus her thoughts. Some doubt was acceptable in Sotha Sil's eyes, but she had to assume even the Father of Mysteries had his limits. "If you could convey to me a message, a sign, any direction...Please, Lord Seht. I feel so lost, and I've hardly even begun."

She spent a few more moments in silent meditation. When she was as satisfied as she could be, she closed out the prayer service, set the prayer book back on the shrine, and sat down on a nearby bed that did not look like it belonged to anyone, trying to steady her mind as much as possible before returning to Rana. She would have loved to lie back down and fall asleep, maybe waking up at home in the Clockwork City, but she had a mission to accomplish. Maybe someday she would even learn what that mission was.

#favali #razak's ocs #eso #i guess this could technically count as tesoctober's grey prompt #because dunmer

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michelles-garden-of-evil · 4 years

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Episode 29 Review: The Missing Cyanide

{ YouTube: 1 | 2 }

{ Full Synopses/Recaps: Debby Graham | Bryan Gruszka }

{ Screencaps }

Welcome back to the isle of Maljardin, whose lush foliage and majestic château mask a deadly evil, one who has grown deadlier with the acquisition of a bottle of cyanide. SIx episodes ago, Jean Paul Desmond removed the bottle from the medicine poison cabinet in the former laboratory of the late Dr. Menkin, only for Jean Paul’s ancestor Jacques Eloi des Mondes to spirit it away shortly after and hide it the-Devil-knows-where. Now the inhabitants and detained guests of the island search for the bottle before its contents can spell their death.

We open with Alison searching for the vial of cyanide in the aforementioned poison cabinet. (Speaking of which, the fact that Dr. Menkin had a whole cabinet full of bottles labeled “POISON” makes him appear just as suspicious as Jean Paul. What kinds of experiments might he have performed that required the use of poison?) For those of you who love to make fun of YouTube’s automatic captions (I hope it’s not just yours truly), the opening scene is a treat, with a whole 30 seconds of subtitled background music:

The YouTube caption bots have officially gone mad.

She sees Quito and asks him if he has seen the bottle, even drawing a picture of it to make sure he knows which one she’s referring to. He tries to tell her using various gestures, but she doesn’t understand the meaning, and neither Raxl nor Jean Paul is around to interpret. During his first two attempts, he touches his head and then sweeps a hand either outward or upward: “Jacques possessed Jean Paul and swiped it,” perhaps? For his third attempt, he points at himself, then towards the doorway, then makes a “chatterbox” motion with his hand, then points below. I think that means, “I’m going to tell Raxl” (or “I,” “go,” “talk,” “down below”) if only because he goes to fetch her to interpret next.

THE DEVIL JACQUES ELOI DES MONDES, here playing the role of the Greek chorus. Colin Fox doesn’t appear in this episode[1], but he did record a voice-over for Jacques’ portrait in advance. Jacques is also looking especially rosy in this shot--very cute.

Back in the lab, Raxl interprets Quito’s signs, and it turns out I was close with my guess on the meaning of the first combination. According to Raxl, touching the forehead followed by the swiping motion means “the master took it.” Alison asks when he took the bottle, Quito signs some more, and Raxl translates: “Two days ago.” She adds that she doesn’t believe that Jean Paul intentionally took it, but that “I fear that he was under a spell of that accursed Jacques Eloi des Mondes.”

After Alison says that the bottle contained enough cyanide to kill everyone on the island, Raxl makes the Sign of the Great Serpent for the first time, albeit with only one hand instead of both.

This brings up the issue of who killed Dr. Menkin (obviously Jacques) and Erica (true cause of death still unknown), and is reminiscent of the mystery of where the conjure doll and silver pin was hidden. Alison begs her to search everywhere including Jean Paul’s room--which is normally off-limits to her--for the doll and pin, even though that will end her erotic dreams about dashing chevalier Jacques. I suppose we all need to make sacrifices.

In the Great Hall, Raxl tells Quito that she is going to contact the Conjure Woman aka Vangie Abbott. Quito shakes his head and grabs her as though pleading for her not to do it. This is reminiscent of the scene in Episode 13 when Quito freaked out over Raxl’s mention of Vangie’s father, the Conjure Man, and also begged her not to. Kurt Schiegl did an excellent job conveying Quito’s thoughts and feelings without speaking. He could have gone into silent films, if they were still a thing in the sixties.

Quito is undead. Does he even still have a heartbeat?

She descends to the crypt and then waits for Quito to join her before entering the Not-So-Hidden Temple (good, atmospheric scene).

Some favorite shots from the scene.

Meanwhile, Matt finds Alison calling for her in the Great Hall:

OK, Captain Obvious.

She tells him about the cyanide and convinces him to help her find it, but won’t tell him who she believes has it.

Meanwhile, Raxl lays out some Tarot cards in the Not-So-Hidden Temple. “The Tarot is as Evangeline Abbott said. Now with the help of the Great Serpent, I shall summon her.” She begins a ritual, bidding Quito beat the drums as she calls for the Conjure Woman to join her.

We cut back to the Great Hall and learn that Matt now considers Raxl’s beliefs superstition, because she believes in Jacques’ ghost and he does not. He doesn’t believe in witchcraft or possession either. Remember, this is a man who said nineteen episodes ago, “The Tarot is the soul’s way to God. Any path that leads to God should have a minister’s approval.” He’s far from anti-superstition when it comes to the Tarot--and besides, the Bible mentions witchcraft and possession, as Alison points out. But Matt denies that those two things exist and dismisses them as ancient, outdated beliefs. You know that his denial is making Jacques absolutely giddy and that somewhere in Hell (or wherever he goes when he’s not inside Jean Paul’s body) he is sitting on his throne grinning from ear to ear and polishing his ring.

Jacques, upon hearing that Reverend Dawson doesn’t believe in possession.

In the temple, Raxl lays some Tarot cards onto the altar. I have no idea if these cards were deliberately chosen to predict future events on Maljardin or if Cosette Lee just drew ten random cards, but I like writing these Tarot analyses, so I’m going to assume it’s the former. First, a photo of the cards, cropped, lightened, sharpened, flipped to show from Raxl’s perspective, and with the card names marked:

Because both the King of Swords and the Queen of Cups appear twice, these cards must be from two decks combined. (Normally, there is only one of each card in a Tarot deck, but some people choose to use multiple decks when doing readings. That's what I gather from a Googling "using multiple decks in tarot," anyway.)

Using the meanings given to certain cards in previous episodes and the established interpretations on Tarot.com and The Tarot Guide for the others, here is my brief card-by-card interpretation:

Strikingly, two of these cards, the Ace of Swords and the World, have very positive meanings. The Ace of Swords can be about force (in the sense meaning power, not the sense of being forced to do things) or it can foretell a new beginning or the start of a new project, according to The Tarot Guide. The World denotes success and the fulfillment of dreams; some interpretations such as that on Tarot.com consider it to always be a positive card, even when reversed (although The Tarot Guide argues in favor of a negative interpretation of The World RX). The Tarot Guide says that the Four of Coins/Pentacles can mean "possessiveness,” but I'm thinking that it, if this spread of cards was intentional, Ian Martin may have meant for it to mean "possession" instead. I included both Elizabeth and Holly as posible Queens of Cups in my interpretation, because, although I am inclined to believe Raxl’s and Vangie’s interpretation of the Queen of Cups over Matt’s, either one may be correct.

When examined together, these cards suggest a “new beginning” for Jean Paul, Elizabeth and/or Holly, and Dan. Jacques will either possess them or have them become possessed, and this scheme of his will be a success. We know that Jacques foreshadows Elizabeth’s eventual possession (in his original outline for the plot) as early as Episode 12, and we also know from Episodes 6 and 19, respectively, that Dan and Holly both had counterparts on 17th century Maljardin. If Martin had been allowed to stick to his original outline, would Dan have ended up being possessed by d’Anton and Holly by the blonde girl in her dream? Was that his original intention?

But I digress. The Tarot is less significant to this scene than the fact that Raxl is trying to summon Vangie again to the island. Quito pounds on the ritual drum, Raxl prays in a trance while kneeling before the altar. Unbeknownst to them, the Reverend Matt Dawson sneaks into the temple to search for both the cyanide and Erica’s notes.

Raxl and Quito in the Temple of the Serpent.

Raxl: “COME, CONJURE WOMAN, TAKE YOUR PLACE ON THE ALTAR OF THE GREAT SERPENT...CONJURE WOMAN, TAKE WHAT STRENGTH IS LEFT FROM THE SOUL OF YOUR FATHER AND USE IT! USE HIS STRENGTH! USE HIM!”

Matt discovers that he’s not strong enough to force the door open and so gives up. “What doors are closed to me I suppose I have no right to open,” he tells Alison cryptically as the “sad Jean Paul” music plays in the background. (That’s what I call the cue at least, because it mostly plays during sad Jean Paul scenes.)

Raxl: “COME, CONJURE WOMAN!”

Vangie: “When I die, it will be here on Maljardin. Why did you call me?”

Vangie protests that “[she] must be brought [to Maljardin] some other way” instead of summoning, which is pretty pointless, because Raxl’s ability to summon her to Maljardin eliminates the need for an invite from Jean Paul or Jacques (or, in Holly’s case, skill with sneaking onto ships). She ends this episode with a cryptic line that could refer to one of several female characters on this show: “When the master of the house is no longer the master of his soul, the house needs a mistress."

Overall, a good but not very eventful episode--but then, at this point, you can’t really do much unless Jean Paul and Jacques are around to stir things up. They’re not the only interesting characters--I would be more than happy to watch this, too, if it were The Raxl Show--but Jean Paul and Jacques are the catalysts, the “movers and shakers” if you will. Fortunately, the handsome devil and his 20th-century descendant will be back next episode

Coming up next: Vangie tries to convince Jean Paul to bring her to Maljardin by boat and we try to determine if the Lost Episode summary for Episode 30 was truly for a lost episode.

{ <- Previous: Episode 28 || Next: Episode 30 -> }

Notes

[1] Steve (leafshimmer) sent me an article recently with behind-the-scenes information on the show, including the reason why Fox is absent from roughly one episode per week:

Last year [i. e. 1968], Fox broke his neck while taping the Stratford Festival company's Three Musketeers for CBC. Although he doesn't have to wear a neck brace all the time, he still suffers pain. "Most of the early problems were cleared up, but it's much too exhausting doing this--working 12 hours a day," he said. "My doctor has given me a letter which insists I get one working day off a week. I have less than 48 hours off, with rehearsals every night, including Sunday."

(Source: Sid Adilman, “TV’s Colin Fox and his Strange Paradise,” Toronto Telegram (Nov. 29 1969).)

#strange paradise #soap opera #ian martin #week 6 #episode 29 #review #analysis #foxless episodes #the not so hidden voodoo temple #scenery chewing #sign of the great serpent #sp and religion #speculation on ian martin's original story #tarot #youtube automatic captions

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