#The Phantom Speaks review

[spryfilm]

Blu-ray review: “The Phantom Speaks” (1945)

“The Phantom Speaks” (1945) Horror Running Time: 69 minutes Written by: John K. Butler Directed by: John English Featuring: Richard Arlen, Stanley Ridges, Lynne Roberts, Tom Powers, Charlotte Wynters and Jonathan Hale Critical Commentary “The Phantom Speaks” is a cinematic masterpiece that continues to captivate audiences with its enigmatic storytelling and timeless allure. Released in…

[tarmac-rat]

Sir does this look like a Wendys to you

[blossomingbooks]

Taylor Swift eras as books

Whether you're a fan or not, you definitely know about Taylor Swift's massive The Eras Tour, a show conceived to homage each "era" — that is, each album — from the artist's discography.

With that in mind (and because I am, in fact, a Swiftie), I thought it would be fun (that is, I couldn't resist) to connect each of those "eras" to a book that I've reviewed here on the blog.

After much deliberation and trying to think of the albums conceptually, lyrically and aesthetically, here are the conclusions that I came to:

1. "Taylor Swift" — Anne of Green Gables

For her self-titled and debut album, I tried to think of the most naïve narratives I had read, and so I naturally gravitated towards children's literature. From all that I've read in that genre, Anne Shirley seemed to me like the most fitting character for this album. After all, Swift's debut work is not only permeated by her inexperience and innocence, but also showcases some of the most intense emotions one feels, unfiltered, in one's youth. The song "Picture To Burn" could easily have been written during one of Anne's most raging fits, while "A Place in this World" perfectly describes L.M. Montgomery's orphan:

"I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh, but life goes on Oh, I'm just a girl trying to find a place in this world"

2. "Fearless" — Romeo and Juliet

Taylor Swift's sophomore album was an easy one to compare to a work of literature: romantic, brave and hopeful, it instantly transports one to the setting of a love story. And that is, of course, the title of one of the main singles of the "Fearless" era. In the well-known hit "Love Story", Swift directly references one of the most famous romances in the history of literature: that of Romeo and Juliet, the titular characters in William Shakespeare's most famous play.

"Little did I know that you were Romeo, you were throwing pebbles And my daddy said, 'Stay away from Juliet'"

3. "Speak Now" — Little Women

Swift's third album is her declaration of independence as a songwriter. Completely self-written, the lyrics are imbued with an intimate, confessional tone about the highs and lows of coming of age. Through this train of thought, it made sense to me to relate it to Louisa May Alcott's most famous novel, Little Women. The story of the four March sisters spans 10 years of their coming-of-age, much of it through the perspective of Jo (a very autobiographical character), the one who wants to become a writer and who eventually writes about their lives. "Never Grow Up" is a song that reminds me of this story:

"Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home Remember the footsteps, remember the words said"

4. "Red" — The Scarlet Letter

"Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly"

These lyrics from the album's titular song are a perfect summary for the affair between Hester Prynne and Reverend Arthur Dimmesdale in Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. Apart from the obvious color parallelism, Swift's fourth album "Red" also deals with an intense and destructive romance. The story of the adultery committed by a married woman with a minister, which is considered sinful by the Puritan society which they inhabit, is very much "Sad Beautiful Tragic":

"And you've got your demons, and darling, they all look like me (...) What a sad, beautiful, tragic love affair"

5. "1989" — The Age of Innocence

Swift's fifth album brought a paradigm change for her music — just like Edith Wharton brought a paradigm change with this novel by being the first woman to ever win the Pulitzer Prize in Fiction. 1989 is where Swift starts to address the repercussions of fame, which recalls the social performance and pressures of New York aristocracy in the Gilded Age. That's the setting for this novel, in which Newland Archer starts falling in love with Ellen Olenska, his wife's cousin. Seen by society as a "'Slut!'", Ellen is a very progressive free-spirit and their affair is very similar to the lyrics in "I Know Places":

"You stand with your hand on my waistline It's a scene and we're out here in plain sight I can hear them whisper as we pass by (...) Baby, I know places we won't be found"

6. "reputation" — The Phantom of the Opera

The rollout of Swift's sixth album was the most dramatic of her career. After a hiatus prompted by media scrutiny and celebrity feuds, she mysteriously blanked out all of her social media and created suspense by posting videos of snakes. The aggressive sounds and overall themes of rage and revenge in this album recall none other than "The Phantom" of the Opera himself, whose reputation precedes him. In Gaston Leroux's famous novel, the mystery of the Opera ghost keeps everyone on their toes, including singer Christine Daaé, who is haunted and kidnapped by the titular character.

"Knew he was a killer first time that I saw him Wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom Holdin' him for ransom"

7. "Lover" — Emma

In this Jane Austen novel, matchmaker Emma Woodhouse plays cupid for everyone around her but wants no romance for herself. Described as high-spirited and “an imaginist”, her lively personality matches the bubbly and dreamy aesthetic of Swift's seventh studio album. Containing some of her funniest lyrics, Lover is very fitting for this 19th century comedy of manners. Emma's ultimate self-discovery, about her feelings for long-time family friend Mr. Knightley, turns her into the one thing she never expected to be: a lover.

"I've been the archer I've been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?"

8. "folklore" — Circe

Reading this book was a wild experience, because so many parts of this Greek mythology figure's story kept reminding me of folklore lyrics. It got to the point of me creating a Circe playlist with 12 tracks from the album, arranged in the order of where they fit in the narrative. It starts with her parents, Helios (personification of the sun) and the naiad Perse, and it spans thousands of years, including Circe's exile (!) to an isolated island (which in turn feels a lot like "the lakes"). Later, I couldn't help but listen to "august" and "cardigan" through the lens of her relationship with Odysseus. But it's "my tears ricochet" that resonates most perfectly with her plotline:

"We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too (...) I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves"

9. "evermore" — To the Lighthouse

This Virginia Woolf novel is as melancholic and introspective as Swift's most wintery album. In the first part of the narrative, I couldn't help but think that Mrs. Ramsay would find some catharsis in the lyrics of "tolerate it"; while, parallelly, unmarried young painter Lily Briscoe does her portrait. In the final part of the narrative, on the other hand, "happiness" would echo in my mind, for reasons I won't spoil.

"I sit and watch you readin' with your head low (...) I sit and watch you I notice everything you do or don't do (...) Use my best colors for your portrait"

10. "Midnights" — Madame Bovary

This was the hardest album for me to choose a book for, probably because I find it to not be as thematically cohesive as the others. However, Gustave Flaubert's anti-heroine quite literally fits Swift's lead single for Midnights: Emma Bovary's actions are heavily scrutinized by her judging provincial neighbors. Moreover, the "antihero" trope was popularized by Romanticism, a movement embodied by the protagonist herself in this Realist critique.

"It's me, hi. I'm the problem, it's me At tea time, everybody agrees I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero"

11. "The Tortured Poets Department" — The Yellow Wallpaper

Ironically, for Swift's longest album I chose the shortest book of this list. That's because Charlotte Perkins Gilman's short story perfectly encapsules the trope of the madwoman, which is the starting point of this album. The music video for its lead single, "Fortnight", portrays Swift in a mental facility, while in the album's prologue she mentions a "temporary insanity" and a "manic phase". The Tortured Poets Department also has some of her saddest, most heart-wrenching music; fittingly, the protagonist in "The Yellow Wallpaper" starts the narrative with a nervous depression that slowly turns into madness:

"You don't get to tell me about sad (...) You don't get to tell me you feel bad Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke Then we could all just laugh until I cry So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream 'Who's afraid of little old me?'"

[astatia-ghast]

Pspspspsps

@jackdaw-sprite bait

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x dc AU: the watchtower gives out very strictly limited passes for visitors. They don’t need the world knowing that their HQ is in space after all, but sometimes family needed to visit.

Batman was the one to install the day pass system back when Dick was Robin- he needed the excuse to send Dick home to Alfred after a certain amount of time has passed and it just stuck. Unless you were a full time member, day passes were the best you got. Engineers and other supportive staff that weren’t members weren’t afforded day passes however- but Jazz is determined to be the one exception.

Jazz Fenton has been a psychologist for the JL for a year now (she just had a very productive performance review, thank you very much) and it’s been killing her to not tell Danny her office is in space. They do weekly dinners that he portals in for, and he knows that she takes a Zeta tube to work, but he’s technically not allowed to know that her office is a satellite. So, she sets a meeting with the man who started the system in the first place.

Batman is hard to read for most but she’s been his therapist for a while now, and she can tell he’s at least considering her request. Dinah couldn’t speak more kindly on Jazz and she’s been an asset to the JL in many ways since she was hired. Jazz’ arguments aren’t preposterous either- she’s submitted all of his identification papers, his background check, his job description and all of his friends names. She assured him that Danny will be able to keep a secret but when pressed she doesn’t reveal if he has any of his own.

Turns out, months of back and forth and negotiations were going be basically worthless- the second Danny got his little wrist band day pass, made it up via the zeta tube and got presented the view of Earth from the observation deck: he immediately transformed. Like zero caution, just went ghost and hyper fixated on the stars.

“You could have mentioned your Brother being Phantom. He’s been an ally to us for a while.” Batman grumbles in the way that only his family and she can tell through his deadpan.

“Yeah, I just thought that would’ve been a second visit conversation.”

[ouiouimochi]

We should kiss

pairing/s: jiro kirisaki x reader

genre/s: romance, comedy(?), plot of convenience

wc: 800 ish words

warning/s: wonky phone format, no beta we die like zenji sigh, plot holes but you pretend you don't see it, medical shit I say here may or may not be true— but pls do not immediately believe it, PC never catches a break, itty bitty minor spoilers up until episode 9, characters may be ooc

note/s: ngl if yuri sees this, he'd call me a quack and make a point that studying in the med field as I am now just proves how much of a quack I am— 🦆

sigh I should be reviewing but then inspiration struck me

⁠ *✧⁠˖✦ـــــــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـــــــــــــــــــــ✦⁠˖✧*

You stood there absolutely confused as Yuri continued yapping about… something. What the actual fuck was he actually saying? The teal-haired male kept droning on while using fancy scientific and medical jargons.

You just nodded every now and then to show you were listening, but you were just doing it out of courtesy if you were being honest. You understood a few but couldn't piece together what he was trying to say.

All you could make of his blabbering was “saliva”, “immunity”, and “Jiro”.

Speaking of which, the other male cut in— you were unsure if it was for your sake or it was just his nature to do so, but you were grateful nonetheless. Until you visibly grew even more perplexed at the stoic male’s words.

“He means to say that we should kiss.” Jiro’s garnet eyes gauged your expression as a barely noticeable smirk crept itself up on his lips. Whether he meant to rouse certain reactions from you or not, you were sure he was snickering behind that deadpanned countenance.

Yuri makes a very disgruntled noise, “That's oversimplifying things, but as concise as always— nevermind that, I've hypothesized this would greatly improve Jiro's overall health.”

You weighed your options, however the Captain of Mortkranken was not yet done as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Consider the debt you owe us paid when you participate.” His use of ‘when’ instead of ‘if’ solidified the case that you didn't have a choice in the matter at all.

It didn't help that a phantom presence made itself known to you.

“My dear, a loveliest lady such as yourself shouldn't be forced like this even if he's my little brother…” Zenji’s voice dripped with concern, but it made the decision to decline even harder since you kind of felt bad.

You sighed and shook your head, briefly making eye contact with the ghost to reassure him before meeting the eyes of the Mortkranken ghouls.

“Fine.”

Jiro calmly approached you and immediately rested a hand on your lower back. Before you know it, you were eye level with his tired and attractive face. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait, now?—” You last heard a dramatic gasp from Zenji, getting cut off as the tall, usually apathetic purple-haired man just casually locked his lips with yours.

Time slowed as his tongue slipped in to take advantage of your shock— you were just too stunned to kiss back even if you wanted to. You were just screaming on the inside at what was happening.

“Jiro! Jiro!! What on earth are you doing?!?!” Yuri's flustered response echoed loudly in the room, basically screeching at the taller ghoul.

“Is it not optimal to immediately test out a hypothesis when created?” Jiro voiced out logically after pulling away from the kiss, still holding you closely as his eyes looked at his captain’s before locking with yours. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

Your mind was swirling, your whole face basically heating up in embarrassment. You did not expect him to do that at all— in front of an audience well he didn't know zenji was there no less.

Jiro had the gall to laugh, allowing his normally unbothered personality to crack as he enjoys making fun of you as if it became his favorite pastime now. He licked his lips.

“Y-you heathen! Get a room and don't include me in the hypothesis testing!!!” The teal-haired ghoul expressed his distaste of the blatant display of intimacy right in front of his face.

Yuri turns away to pinch the bridge of his nose as he clicks his pen, pointing it at you still in Jiro’s arms— you didn't know why he was still holding you. Any longer, you feared you might grow comfortable.

“You, out. We have reports to record.”

And such you find yourself absentmindedly walking back to your dorm. Your fingers ghosting your lips, remembering the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft. The way he held you wasn't uncomfortable either. And his tongue—

You shook your head to rid yourself of the thoughts.

‘It’s just another experiment.’

Too bad you actually enjoyed it.

⁠*✧⁠˖✦ـــــــــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـــــــــــــــــــــ✦⁠˖✧⁠*

sigh

taglist: @ryescapades (hi wifey even if u dunno this fandom *cri*), @minasfwoopyponytail , @akiakabane18 , @rottenzombrainz , + anyone else who wants to be added

[ghostchems]

phantom of the paradise - papa emeritus iv x reader

you go to a special screening of “phantom of the paradise” and end up being taken with the strange man who introduces the film

a/n: listen. i love awkward copia, i really do. but i also love seductive, mysterious, otherworldly copia and that is what this is. there’s just uh kissin’ here. also maybe this is me trying to get Ghost fans to watch this movie bc there’s so much ghost dna in it MAN. 3.7k words ao3 link.

Going to the movies alone never bothered you. In fact, over the years it's become one of your favorite pastimes. You can see whatever you want without worrying about finding a companion. Your taste is… well, it's your taste. Not everyone appreciates experimental '70s films or rock operas, which is exactly what you have planned for today. You've managed to snag a ticket to a rare showing of Brian De Palma's "Phantom of the Paradise" at your local independent theater. You first came across the film a few months ago, watching it nestled on your couch. From the moment it started, you knew it was something special.

You find a seat in the theater's center, perfectly positioned for the screen. Settling in, you cross your legs and place a notebook on your lap. Your pen taps rhythmically as you await the film's start, ready to jot down thoughts for your future Letterboxd review. The theater gradually fills, buzzing with excitement for this cult film on the big screen. You sigh deeply, relaxing into the plush seat. This feels like a well-deserved treat after a long work week, a chance to escape the real world for an hour and a half of drug-fueled musical numbers.

The lights start to dim and the chatter subsides. A man walks out on the stage, immediately capturing the theater’s attention. His appearance is nothing short of ghostly. His face is painted like a skeleton, with stark white bone-like features contrasting against the dark hollows of his eyes and cheeks. What's most striking, however, are his eyes - one a piercing white, the other an eerie green. He's dressed in a stylishly tattered suit jacket paired with a vibrant blue cravat at his neck. You glance down at your notepad and write:

Spooky ghost man.

He approaches the small podium and adjusts the microphone awkwardly. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak with a hint of an Italian accent, his captivating tone immediately drawing in the audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, 'Phantom of the Paradise' isn't just a film to me." He pauses, his mismatched eyes scanning the crowd. "It taught me about the power of music, the price of ambition, and the beauty of the bizarre. It inspired me to embrace my own uniqueness." His words hang in the air for a moment before he concludes, "I hope it moves you as deeply as it moved me. Enjoy the show." His lips quirk into a barely perceptible grin as he taps his notecard against the podium. There’s scattered applause.

The lights dim further, signaling the film's start, yet your gaze remains transfixed on the ghost man, his stark white skull paint a beacon in the darkness. As you attempt to redirect your focus to the screen, a flicker of movement in your peripheral vision catches your attention. The ghost man has silently glided into your row, settling a few seats away. Throughout the film, his presence lingers beside you, more aware of him than you would like to admit. His reactions prove oddly charming—a soft chuckle punctuating comedic moments, a subtle lean forward during tense scenes. What captivates you most is his quiet humming along to select musical numbers, his voice a barely perceptible whisper that, surprisingly, enhances rather than detracts from your enjoyment.

His enthusiasm is palpable, and you can't help but feel intrigued. As "The Hell of It" plays during the end credits, his soft singing drifts to your ears. The haunting melody lingers in the air as you find yourself unconsciously tapping your foot to the rhythm. When the lights slowly come up, you turn to catch a glimpse of the mysterious ghost man, only to find his seat empty. Blinking in surprise, you shift your gaze to your notebook. You realize there are more notes about the him than the movie itself.

Gathering your belongings, you linger in your seat for a moment, still processing the film and the man’s lingering presence beside you. You make your way to the lobby, your eyes scanning the crowd, searching for him. But he's nowhere to be seen. Without thinking, you’re already stepping out onto the street, the cool afternoon air hitting your face. You pause, unsure of what you're looking for or why. That's when you spot him—a flash of white and tattered elegance disappearing into an alley behind the theater. Without thinking, you follow, your footsteps quickening as you approach the narrow passage.

You round the corner, you catch sight of him walking away, unhurried and almost graceful. You hesitate, torn between calling out to him and silently observing this strange, captivating figure as he moves further into the shadows. Suddenly, he stops in his tracks. Without turning around, he speaks, amusement in his voice. "Are you following me, friend?" There's no accusation in his tone, just a gentle question. He slowly turns to face you, his mismatched eyes twinkling with an odd sort of understanding. "I suppose the film wasn't quite enough for you either, hm?" He chuckles softly, seemingly at ease with the situation.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I... I really liked your introduction," you stammer, feeling a bit foolish. "I'm sorry for following you. I don't usually do this kind of thing."

The ghost man's painted lips curl into a smile. "No need to apologize, tesoro. I tend to have this effect on people. Though, not typically from my film introductions." He takes a step closer, his eyes studying you with curiosity.

"Thank you," you say, offering a small smile. "I thought your introduction was really nice. It added something personal." You hesitate for a moment before continuing. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but... your appearance. Are you like dressed as a character from something?”

The ghost man's smile widens. "Ah, always the question, isn't it?" he says, running a hand through his graying brown hair hair. "This is… eh, me in a way. It’s a long story." He chuckles softly, the sound echoing in the alley. His expression shifts, a hint of shyness creeping into his demeanor. "Perhaps... perhaps it would be easier if I showed you," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Would you like to see?"

"How could you show me?" you ask, curiosity and caution in your voice.

His ghost man's eyes brighten. "There's something not far from here that will explain better than my words ever could," he says, gesturing down the alley. "It's just around the corner."

A part of you suspects this could be a trap. You're reminded of the film—how Leach's initial trust in Swan led to his downfall. Yet, despite the warning bells in your head, you find yourself nodding. "Alright," you say, surprising yourself. "I'll come with you."

The ghost man's painted face softens. "Thank you for trusting me," he says quietly, a hint of warmth in his voice. "This way, per favore." He turns and begins to walk deeper into the alley, his movements slow and deliberate. Your eyes fall to his pants, tattered just like his coat and tight. You trail behind him, notebook still in hand as a sense of unease begins to creep over you. The dimly lit alley seems to go on forever. Where could he be taking you? Why not just explain himself?

After a few minutes of walking, you find yourself standing before a small chapel tucked away a few blocks from downtown. There's something unsettling about its appearance—the weathered stone seems to absorb the dim streetlight, and the windows are dark and opaque. Your gaze falls to a few lone gravestones in the yard. The ghost man gestures towards the entrance.

"After you," he whispers, his voice barely audible. You swallow a breath before pushing open the heavy wooden door. The interior is dimly lit, black flickering candles casting long shadows across the walls. As your eyes adjust to the darkness, you gasp. Directly across from you stands a large stained glass window, its center dominated by a portrait of the ghost man himself. The inscription reads 'Papa Emeritus IV'. The window depicts him in all his skeletal glory, a coy look on his face, a barely perceptible smiles. The craftsmanship is exquisite and with vibrant colors, namely the bright blue robe adorned with intricate yellow and black designs that cloaked him. You turn to Papa, questions forming on your lips, but he's already moving towards the window, his eyes fixed on his own image.

He reaches out, his gloved fingers tracing the outline of his own face in the glass. "This is who I am," he says, his voice echoing in the empty chapel. Papa's finger traces further down to the script on the window: Avē, avē Antichriste! Avē Satana! A shiver runs down your spine as you recognize the Latin phrase. It reminds you of "The Omen." As you absorb the stained glass and the chapel's eerie ambiance, you're struck by how much Papa resembles the Phantom—not of the Paradise, but of the Opera. You can't help but draw parallels between the two figures, especially given that he's all but lured you to his secret lair.

Lost in your thoughts and the mesmerizing stained glass, you fail to notice Papa's approach. You feel his presence behind you — a chill runs down your spine as you feel his breath on your neck. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Papa's voice is soft, almost wistful.

You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Your heart races as you feel Papa's gloved hands gently come to rest on your shoulders. The touch is light, almost comforting, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. The stained glass before you seems to shimmer in the candlelight, Papa's painted face both mesmerizing and unsettling. You remain frozen, unable to speak, as Papa's fingers give your shoulders a gentle squeeze.

His touch lingers for a moment before he steps back, allowing you to breathe again. "Tell me," Papa's voice is low, almost hypnotic, "what do you think of my little sanctuary?"

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "It's... nice," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. "Like something out of a dream...” Or a nightmare, you think to yourself. You turn to face Papa, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "Why did you bring me here?"

Papa's lips curl into a warm smile. "To show you a glimpse of my world," he replies, his voice a low, melodious purr. "As I mentioned, I have an effect on certain people—those with open minds who might be receptive to an offer, perhaps... or simply to satisfy their curiosity."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued yet cautious, the theme of this encounter. "An offer? What kind of offer?" Your jaw clenches as you recall the film, half-expecting Papa to produce a contract like Swan did with Leach.

Papa's grin widens, revealing a hint of perfectly white teeth. "Ah, curious, aren't we? Well, cara, I represent a rather... unique congregation. We're always looking to expand our flock, so to speak."

"Congregation?"

"Yes," Papa nods and a gust of air makes the candles in the room flicker. "I'm part of what you might call the Satanic church. But, eh, not to worry," he adds quickly, noticing your expression, "it’s not what you think. We're about celebrating individuality, embracing the unconventional, and most importantly... music."

You blink, struggling to process this information. "Music?" The connection suddenly clicks. "That explains why you sponsored the film."

"Oh yes," Papa says, his voice taking on a passionate tone. "Music is at the heart of what we do. It's how we express ourselves, how we connect with each other and the world around us. We have a band of ghouls and I am the bandleader — eh, but that is not my only job. It is my favorite part, though. Other than sponsoring cult films, of course.”

You hesitate, your eyes darting around the small chapel. There's an undeniable allure to Papa's words and presence, but a nagging voice in your head warns you this could be a trick. Yet, something about his sincerity and the passion in his voice when he speaks of music resonates with you.

"I... I'm not sure," you say, your voice wavering slightly. "All I had planned for today was to see a movie… not this."

Papa's expression softens. "I saw you in the theater. Your passion for the film, your openness to the unconventional. I, eh, thought you might be someone who could appreciate what we offer. Someone who might want to... explore a bit further." His words strike a chord within you, resonating with a part of yourself you didn't know existed. Your heart flutters, excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins. As if sensing your stress, Papa reaches out, his gloved hand gently cupping your face. His thumb brushes along your jaw, the touch electrifying and soothing.

"There's no need to decide right now," Papa murmurs, his mismatched eyes locked with yours. "But perhaps... a taste of what we offer?" His painted lips curl into a soft, inviting smile.

Your heart races, feeling trapped. Is this really happening? You know the smart thing would be to leave, to get far away from here and forget this ever happened. But, you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his piercing white eye.

"I... I think I'd like that," you whisper, your voice barely audible in the hushed chapel. A burning curiosity has taken hold of you, one you can't shake. Papa's otherworldly aura envelops you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. His hand drifts from your cheek to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. With his other hand, he takes your notebook—the last barrier between you—and tosses it over his shoulder.

Your breath catches in your throat as Papa leans in, his painted face drawing closer. As his lips meet yours, time seems to slow. The kiss is unlike anything you've ever experienced—soft yet electrifying, tender yet passionate. The gentle pressure of his lips sends waves of heat through your body, each one more intense than the last. You find yourself leaning into him, your hands instinctively reaching for his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his tattered coat. Papa's arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer until you're pressed against him. The scent of incense, candlewax, and a hint of brimstone envelops you, making your head spin.

His lips move against yours with increasing fervor, and you feel yourself getting lost in the sensuality of the moment. The kiss deepens, and you taste a hint of something sweet on his tongue. It's intoxicating, addictive, and you find yourself wanting more. His gloved hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue explores your mouth with skilled precision. Your knees weaken, and you cling to him for support, your fingers digging into the fabric of his coat. The kiss seems to last for an eternity, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with desire. When Papa finally pulls away, you gasp for air, your chest heaving. Your lips feel swollen and sensitive, tingling with the lingering effects of his touch.

His appearance is noticeably more disheveled now, his painted face slightly smudged and his tattered coat askew. His mismatched eyes gleam with a wild intensity, and his chest rises and falls rapidly, mirroring your own breathlessness. It's clear that the kiss affected him just as profoundly as it did you. His gloved hands still rest on your waist, his grip firm yet gentle.

"My, my," he purrs, his voice husky and low. "You are full of surprises, aren't you?" A sly smile plays on his lips as he regards you with a mixture of admiration and desire. The candles in the chapel seem to flicker more intensely, casting dancing shadows across his painted features. “May I kiss you again?” When he asks so politely, how can you say no?

"Yes," you breathe, barely audible even to yourself. "Please."

Papa's eyes flash with desire as he swiftly lifts you, his surprising strength catching you off guard. He sets you down on the altar, the cold stone a stark contrast to your heated skin. His lips crash against yours once more, hungry and demanding. His gloved hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You arch into his touch, lost in his enveloping presence. He draws your lower lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth along it, eliciting a gasp from you.

He plants a few kisses to the corner of your mouth, then drifts to your jaw and further down. His lips trace a tantalizing path along your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine. As he reaches the sensitive spot just below your ear, you feel his hot breath against your skin, causing goosebumps. Papa's kisses become more insistent as he moves down your neck with soft, feather-light touches and more passionate, open-mouthed kisses. Your breath hitches as he finds a particularly sensitive spot at the base of your neck and you can feel his lips curl into a smile against your skin.

You can't help but wonder if you've crossed a line you can't come back from — but do you really care at the moment?

Papa lifts his head to meet your gaze, his face paint now thoroughly smeared. You wonder if any has transferred onto you. He leans in, his strong nose brushing along your cheek as he presses his forehead against yours. Suddenly, the candles flicker out, plunging you both into darkness—save for the ethereal glow of the stained glass window. He rests hands resting on either side of you and his chest heaves with each breath. His ghostly eyes, glazed with desire, lock onto yours as he watches you catch your breath. "Will you consider joining my flock?" he asks, his voice husky.

You struggle to catch your breath, your mind still hazy from the intensity. "I... I'll think about it," you manage to say between gasps, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his offer hangs in the air.

Papa's lips curl into a grin, his eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "Take all the time you need, tesoro," he purrs. "When you're ready… I'll find you." He leans in, his painted face mere inches from yours. His gaze searches your face, a flicker of softness in its depths. With careful gentleness, he presses his lips to yours. This kiss is vastly different from his other kisses — tender, almost romantic. As he pulls away, you feel a pang of loss. Papa's smile returns as he takes a step back, his gaze never leaving yours. "Until we meet again," he murmurs.

You watch as he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing in the small chapel, growing fainter until they fade entirely. Left alone on the edge of the altar, you're surrounded by flickering candles and the lingering scent of incense. A part of you considers calling out, asking him to stay, but something holds you back. In the end, you let him go. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Your legs feel shaky as you slide off the altar, adjusting your clothes with trembling hands. The cool air of the chapel hits your flushed skin, bringing you back to reality. Eye scan the dimly lit space, searching for your notebook. You spot it on a nearby pew, right where you must have dropped it earlier. Opening the notebook to a fresh page, you fumble for your pen. Your hand is still unsteady as you begin to scribble down the man’s name and the Latin on the stained glass, a reminder of the otherworldly encounter you just had.

With one last glance around the empty chapel, you clutch your notebook to your chest and make your way towards the exit. The outside world feels startlingly normal after what you've just experienced. Your feet hit the ground with renewed purpose as you head back to your apartment.

Your mind wanders as you walk home. You can't help but wonder if Papa's offer is similar to Swan's - a large contract signed in blood that would bind you to him until death. Perhaps you’re being dramatic. He seemed to model himself after the phantom, but you're not so sure of his intentions. There's something more sinister about Papa that sets him apart. The way he moved, the intensity of his gaze, the power of his touch - it all hints at something beyond human. You shiver, remembering the electrifying sensation of his kiss, the intoxicating taste on his tongue. Part of you is terrified, but another part is thrilled by his allure.

You approach your apartment but you find yourself glancing over your shoulder, half-expecting to see Papa's striking figure materialize from the shadows. The memory of his touch lingers on your skin, and you can still taste the sweetness of his kiss on your lips. You unlock your door with trembling hands and quickly close it once inside, leaning against it with a slow exhale. Your eyes fall on your laptop, and a sudden urge overtakes you. You rush to it, opening a new browser window. Your fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before you type: "Papa Emeritus IV”.

There he is, Papa Emeritus IV, in all his ghoulish glory. The images match perfectly with the man you encountered in the chapel - the skull-like face paint, and his haunting white eye. You scroll through countless photos, some showing him in the tattered suit you saw today, others in the more elaborate robes depicted in the stained glass window. Your heart races as you dig deeper. The Satanic church he mentioned? It's real, though perhaps not in the traditional sense you might have imagined. It's more of a theatrical rock band called Ghost, with Papa as the frontman. Their music videos and live performances are a spectacle of occult imagery and rock opera grandeur, reminiscent of the very film you just watched.

Everything Papa told you checks out. The band of ghouls, his role as the bandleader, the emphasis on individuality and unconventional expression - it's all there, laid out in interviews, fan forums, and official band statements. You even find mentions of their penchant for sponsoring cult film screenings, just like the one you attended. As you lean back in your chair, a mix of emotions washes over you. Relief at him telling you the truth, confusion at his theatrics. Your fingers unconsciously trace your lips, remembering the electrifying kiss.

You can't help but wonder: what would joining his "flock" truly entail?

[astatia-ghast]

I’ve always enjoyed the ghost speak AU and have read a few fics like this before, but what I really like about your version is that it’s implied that ghost speak sounds terrifying. That raises a question, too: is the class terrified because they know what ghost speak sounds like and know that’s what Danny and Tucker are speaking, or does ghost speak just sound terrifying?

Either way, this was a great read! It’d be wonderful if you had more to add to this story!

when he's really tired, danny sometimes slips up and starts talking in ghost speak. the only ones who can understand him when he gets like this are tucker, sam, and jazz (because they're Liminal). of course, none of them realize this until danny slips up in public

Tucker hated English. The whole language was a confusing, contradictory mess. Honestly, the world would be a much better place if everyone just stopped talking and writing and only communicated using Timerio, preferably with several screens between them.

The blank word document stared back at him, mockingly. The sounds of his classmates typing away at their own projects – typing, normally his favorite sound in the world, how dare the project turn it against him! – filled the room. The clock in the corner of his screen told him they had twenty more minutes left in class; twenty more minutes until lunch, where he could at least enlist Sam’s help.

He wished she shared this period with him and Danny, but she was taking AP Lit this year. Tucker glanced over at his other best friend. His best friend, who was staring off into space, not even bothering to pretend to be focusing on the assignment.

Glancing up to make sure Mr. Lancer wasn’t looking, he risked asking, “Hey Danny, what are the odds of a ghost attack happening in the next thirty-five seconds or so?”

Danny barely moved, but Tucker watched him squint, like he was trying to read something far off and blurry.

“Pretty unlikely. Unless we’re still counting blob ghosts as threats.”

Somewhere in the background, the sound of typing stopped.

Tucker hummed, “yeah, that’s about what I figured.” That was ghosts for you, never there when you needed them, never gone when you didn’t. “What if you, ya know,” Tucker raised his eyebrows repeatedly, staring intently at his best friend.

“no.”

“Aw, come on!”

Danny rolled his eyes, leaning back into his chair. “Dude, if I attacked the school just to get out of the last quarter of English, I’d never hear the end of it from Sam and Jazz.”

Tucker opened his mouth, about to present the very reasonable argument that what Sam and Jazz didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, when he felt someone tap his shoulder. Turning around in his seat, he met the wide, terrified eyes of Star. She was glancing between Tucker and Danny, face pale.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but uh…” Her voice trailed off, and in the pause Tucker was suddenly aware of how quiet the room had become.

Glancing around, he saw that everyone – including Lancer – was staring at him and Danny with varying levels of confusion and fear. Tucker considered himself to be pretty smart in most areas, maybe even a genius when it came to tech. But it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d missed something important.

Danny, the absolute dick, had slumped forward onto his desk. He was out cold. Dead to the world, and definitely not available for backup.

Kwan cleared his throat, and Tucker saw that his face was ashen.

“What are you two fucking talking about?”

[purrlockswatson]

Susan Kay's Phantom, WHY?

Lord save me from Erik and Christine's child. I'll never recover from all the times the existence of that child hurt me - not in a good way.

The last 80 pages really turned the grasshopper for me. Kay built a beautiful opera house, then sent a flaming, gunpowder-loaded chandelier through the roof. I enjoyed the first three-quarters of the book. It took incredible storytelling and research to build up that sprawling history only hinted at in the closing of original novel, and I love how the story made a spectacular Frankenstein Phantom from many adaptations.

But then came Christine.

Kay's afterword makes it worse for me. She states she doubts that A) Raoul would doubt Christine's love for him, and B) whether pity is a strong enough motivation for Christine to go back to Erik in spite of her fear. Ergo: Raoul was right when he suspected Christine loves Erik.

Well, I can clear up both of those points - A) Raoul is an insecure, jealous boy; B) aside from pitying Erik, Christine thought she could pacify him by going back, making pity AND fear her motivations, which she explains in Apollo's Lyre.

But Phantom's loyalty to the original is beside the point. What disturbed me about this explanation is that Kay meant it to be a love story. But there is no love.

I have already harped on to two friends about Phantom of the Opera and sexuality (thanks to @blackforrestpunk and @blackghostm2o for putting up with me). I think I can write an essay on the subject. After all, vampire fiction is my area of expertise.

⚠️Warning: Heavier subjects discussed below. I don't usually post content like this, so I thought i should give a heads up.⚠️

Leroux's Erik was never sexually attracted to Christine. All his fantasies he concerning her were purely romantic, even domestic ('a wife to keep amused on weekdays and take out on Sundays') whereas in Webber's adaptation, seduction is a recurrent theme in the Phantom's songs. There is nothing wrong with adding this extra layer to Chrsitine and Erik's relationship, as long as it doesn't overshadow their artistic bind through music.

But in Kay's Phantom, towards the ending, Erik's music becomes purely a sexual euphemism. It's a hypnotic drug that he uses to control Christine, and of course, there is that scene where he describes himself assaulting her by playing Don Juan Triumphant.

That is deeply misguided. Erik's music was his one connection to the purest, truest part of humanity. He was treated like a monster and often lives like one, yet he could express and evoke feelings that no most people could never, through his song.

And there is the child.

Erik thinks that Christine looks exactly like his mother. He speaks of her as his daughter. He is, self admittedly, old enough to be her father. And they still have a son together. There is no context, no possible way, that this is romantic. Horrible things can happen in a book. But it needs to be clear that it is horrible. Not so with this abominable ending. It was written as a romance, the bittersweet parting of starcrossed lovers. If Kay set out to write a love story for Erik and Christine, she did not do it: there is no evidence whatsoever in the text I read that Christine and Erik love one another. Erik lusts after her; Christine is drawn to his dark broody mystery. That is not love; it's Twilight.

I will reread this book for the sake of the brilliant child Erik, who I see myself in, and for Nadir and my feline lady Ayesha, but I will never be reading past Erik's delightful meetings with his old friend. As far as I'm concerned, he lived in his damp cellar in peace, with a large salary, to the end of his days.

More rants, I mean, very dignified and reasonable reviews of POTO adaptations here.

[yuurei20]

I've noticed Epel keeps adding 'kana' to the end of his sentences. What does it mean?

Hello hello! Thank you so, so much for this question, I have always wanted to mention this.

“Kana” can be a multitude of things in English, such as “probably,” “I guess,” “I think,” “I wonder,” etc. A basic explanation would be, “a word used to express uncertainty,” but like most things when it comes to language, that is not the only thing it does.

A quick review of Epel: from his first day at NRC he has been under order from Vil to “speak more politely,” as he tends to use informal speech with his senpai.

As you point out, Epel often adds “kana” to what he is saying, and that is because one of the things that it can do is ‘soften’ something that you’re saying in order to make it sound less direct, and thus more polite.

Examples: Epel telling Kalim that his assumption is wrong, telling Vil that he disagrees with him, saying that his Phantom Bride look is weird, etc., these are all sentences that he is awkwardly gentling via “kana,” often after several ellipses or a comma, as though it is not a part of his normal speech pattern.

This gets into cultural differences: When Ace assumes that Epel is dedicated to a certain brand of apple juice, for example, an English-speaking Epel could probably respond, “That’s not actually the case!,” without sounding rude. But that could be interpreted as a little brusque in Japanese.

In order to soften the expression Epel adds “kana” at the end, which sounds more like, “That might not be the case,” “I’m not sure that is exactly what is going on,” etc., in English.

Even though he knows for 100% certainty that he is not actually dedicated to a certain brand of juice, he is still using “kana” in order to not sound too straightforward.

(screenshot from maggiesensei.com)

(This can and does cause issues when moving in between languages: a Japanese learner who only knows that “kana” means “I think” might not add it onto sentences where they are certain about something, and thus risk annoying their Japanese-speaking colleagues, for example. In contrast, an English learner may say “I think” too often, leading their English-speaking colleagues to wonder why they don’t seem to actually know anything. It’s all part of the joy of language and culture!)

While there are several words in Japanese that can be used to soften your phrasing, Epel seems to have latched onto “kana” in particular, possibly because it is an easy word to add on to the last part of what might otherwise be a rude sentence in an attempt to avoid a reprimand from Vil. 

Other times Epel will belatedly add “desu” onto his sentences, also in a bid to sound more polite than he is used to speaking. 

If you are a language learner I would not recommend using Epel as an example of when to use “kana,” as he will sometimes shoehorn it into places in an unnatural way (as a part of his character).

EN is doing its best to recreate Epel’s “kana” by including things like “kind of,” “not sure” and “maybe” in his dialogue, but as sounding uncertain doesn’t necessarily mean you sound polite in English, this may not be having the same effect. And I have no idea how they would go about recreating this habit of Epel’s in a way that can properly portray what is happening in English—it might just be one of those things that gets lost in translation :<

Bonus: The Japanese language has four different alphabets (kanji, katakana, hiragana, romaji), and katakana is the alphabet used for foreign loanwords. 

Whereas other characters who use honorifics have “-kun” and “-san” written in hiragana in their dialogue, Epel’s dialogue uses katakana. This is possibly meant to symbolize how using honorifics in these situations is foreign to him, and he is not used to it.

(When he does shift into using honorifics in hiragana, it is only when he is talking to people from his own village: people he is used to!)

[omamorens]

a while back you said something akin to “inkblade college au.. (head full of thoughts)” !! would you be so kind as to open your head and share them? i am begging you on my knees…. spare inkbkade college au.. pls…

dear anon you dont have any idea of the floodgates im about to open but!!! im imagining two main routes for this college au. bear with me with this long answer!!

the ‘met-again at college’ au:

In this version of the events, the Rat Grinders probably broke off to do their own individual thing after finishing junior year and their redemption quests.

Oisin would probably distance himself away from Elmville but still pursue wizarding school elsewhere. Probably at the Bastion City University.

This time, he does it correctly with no cheating.

Though if he was being honestly, still having access to the full benefits from the school of conjuration was probably an unfair advantage.

So he always pushed himself to do harder, to excel beyond expectations. He’s a chronic over-worker and just wants to do things right for once.

Oisin never gets into another adventuring party again and instead studies to be some type of wizard scientist, developing new spells and technology probably.

Adaine, by this time, is already a world-renowned adventurer and top divination wizard of their age, in her own right.

She’s already established somewhat of a mark to history at the young age of 24? 25? probably younger, honestly.

Oisin hears about her from time to time— they do occupy the same wizarding circles and its kind of hard to avoid mention of the Elven Oracle.

But she was a famous figure now, literally beyond reach from a lowly college student like himself.

Imagine his surprise when he sees her walk into his class one day, but not as a student, no.

Adaine was a guest speaker and was about to discuss to them the very interesting topic of the Cosmology of Extraplanar Realms and Studies of Divinities

Oisin blanked out most of it.

Too starstruck from seeing Adaine again and oh… his chest was hurting again, phantom-pains from the shatterstar that never really left his mind.

Or is it?

Before he knew it, the session has ended. He thinks it ended too soon but the topic was actually discussed for two hours.

But his professor has an announcement to make? He stayed back to hear it out.

“Miss Abernant will be conducting research in the university for some time, and she has graciously granted the Wizard Department the opportunity for a student to take up an internship role for the duration of her team’s stay. Interested students may submit a form to me and the decision will be passed to Miss Abernant’s team after careful deliberation. That is all, thank you.”

Oisin has spaced out again, reeling from the thought that their paths would probably cross even more now that she’ll be at BCU indefinitely.

“Mr. Hakinvar? Oisin Hakinvar?” his professor called for him, and he addresses her, snapping out of his thoughts.

“Ms. Abernant, this is the top student of the Wizarding course, Oisin Hakinvar. I would speak highly into considering him for the role…”

Oisin has drowned out the noise again, because Adaine was staring at him, a twinge of familiarity setting in on her features. And of annoyance.

“Oh, I know of him.” she says tersely, “Top student, you say? No unfair advantages to speak of?”

Oisin’s brow twitched at that, answering the question himself, “None at all. I’ll make sure to send in my form for the internship role.”

Because he was prideful more than anything, and the subtle mocking comment made at him was baseless.

Adaine doesn’t know him, not the way that he is right now. Not after he’s pushed himself over and over to prove that he is worthy to be here.

“Very well! I’m sure Miss Abernant will be pleased to review your form.”

“Trust me, I am very good on both paper and practical application.”

Adaine shouldn’t even care for him at all, but she was curious. After Oisin and his adventuring party disappeared off Elmville, she always wondered what they were up to. Maybe more evil plots? Maybe they died somewhere off Spyre? Who knows.

Now she does, and the kindling of curiosity was highly-flammable, the worst of all motivators she could have.

And yet.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” she says to him, like a challenge. Oisin was set on meeting her to it.

This AU is definitely tagged as “Enemies-to-Lovers”, constant bickering and challenging looks, academic rivalry too because thats always nice. Maybe a bit of mystery because I do love the allure of putting them in a dark academia setting.

the ‘they got close during senior year and went to college together’ au:

This one is definitely sweeter and idyllic.

If you’ve ever heard of Sabrina Carpenter’s new song “Please, please, please” this is the general theme; its what Adaine would feel like.

Because in this AU, Adaine finally gives Oisin the chance to date her during college.

They’re always together anyway; with both being wizards pursuing academe, their schools of study interact in much more ways than anticipated.

Lots of cute dates in between classes too!!

Going to the newest cafe to try out their menu.

Amusement park dates!! Museum dates!!!

Bastion City is filled with things to do.

And even when they don’t, just studying together was already a date.

Oisin would always have some part of his body in contact with her.

Maybe his tail wrapped around her calf under the table, his free hand on her knee when they read together side by side, or just letting her lean on to him if she gets too tired to sit upright.

Adaine, on the other hand, was a little more paranoid of their relationship.

Was she just lying in wait for Oisin to fuck up? Hopefully not, but the chances are never zero. And she hates thinking of that, because at some level, she does trust and love Oisin, wholeheartedly.

But the past has always been haunting her in some way or another.

And it’s hard to relax when danger has been everything you knew your whole life.

But Oisin was soft with her, caring and understanding, frankly a little possessive and obsessive, but it was just the healthy amount that makes her want to drag him to bed every night and assure him that she is all his.

And Oisin proves to her that he is all hers.

Just imagine. Domestic Inkblade. never thought i would live to see the day that both words are in the same sentence.

Lots of late night cuddles, of assurances, of future plans togethers.

Unending conversations of “i love you” said in the most unconventional ways.

AND OF COURSE this is college. you cant expect me to think of college au without having Adaine live up to her “Party Wizard” title!!!

Adaine definitely lets loose at parties. She has her friends with her, a loving boyfriend, and her life has never been better.

But god she has the worst alcohol tolerance known to mankind.

Oisin is definitely watching over her, excusing himself from drinking too much just incase Adaine goes wild again.

And oh she does.

Thank god Oisin is there to [i will not elaborate what happens here, but god is it in my head; just guess].

And then she wakes up with a raging headache and Oisin is more than happy to care for her (making her hangover food, massaging her sore spots).

Like I said, domestic. Fluff and comfort and so much healing. LIKE SOOO MUCH. this is the answer to the “we could’ve had it all” tag because in this AU, they have it all.

Good for them… good for them!!

Will I write this? Not anytime soon but God would I kill to read it. Someone… anyone… save me inkblade college au save me…

[cardinalcanis]

CODEX: The Viridian Phantoms

Summary: I did a thing. Been wanting to write about the custom space marine chapter that has been eating my brain the last few days. The Viridian Phantoms, my loyalist Mortarion successor chapter. They have been SO much fun to write and will totally do more things with them in the future. They are my first ever custom chapter so I would LOVE LOVE LOVE your reviews and opinions about them.

TW: People WAY too comfortable with death.

Word count: 3314

"Can I make my own fanart/OCs/head cannons/fics about/with the Viridian Phantoms?" First of all I will die <3, second of all, of course! As long as you credit me as the og creator of them I have no issue with it!

Tag squad (let me know if you wish to be tagged on stuff): @druidwolf21 @wolf-feathers12 @artemisareia @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @adhd-fandom-hyperfocus

@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @kit-williams @egrets-not-regrets @jaghatai-khock @horuslupercal @moodymisty

@sinistermojo @beckyninja @justallll @ms--lobotomy @pluvio-tea @lemon-russ

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

General information: 

“We are Death, so Humanity may live.”

-Chapter name: Viridian Phantoms. 

-Other nicknames and given monikers (at least the nice ones): Angels of Krieg, The Bone Collectors, Krieger Kites, Jumping Tanks, Climbing Banshees. 

-Loyalty: Loyalist. 

-Homeworld: Krieg. 

-Symbol: A ghostly skull wreathed in chains.

-Colors: Light viridian green accented with black and silver.

Origin: 

“Father, see your children, battle-worn and pale,

Holy Chains and hooks prepared, 

Father, see your children, dead but not failed, 

By their blood may the corruption be cleansed.” 

After the events of Baal and the Plague Wars Belisarius Cawl saw the necessity of having more resistant troops. Capable of weathering extreme conditions, facing bio-monstrosities and gargantuan enemies, and being Immune to plagues and other chaos or mortal-made maladies. 

The Viridian Phantoms were born from Cawl’s experiments, using a modified strand of Mortarion’s gene-seed to create warriors who could endure almost everything. They stand as an act of defiance to Roboute Guilliman’s will in the face of what he considers advancements in the name of the Imperium’s survival, magnificent discoveries that honor the Omnissiah.  Making them only female was the loophole he found to make their existence possible, even though kept in secret for many years.  Recruited and trained on Krieg for their innate resilience and loyalty, these Marines are honed to become the embodiment of human perseverance. 

They possess their gene father’s legendary resistance combined with an aspect of Mortarion not exploited by the previous Death Guard; his untapped psyker potential. The Viridian Phantoms are unyielding assaulters, designed to weather any blow; be it a plague, environment non compatible with life, or physical force. Their combat style is defined by their heavy armor, equipped with hooks and chains, allowing them to latch onto massive foes, scale them, and pull them down into submission so they can be butchered. Despite their heavily reinforced armor, their biomantic prowess allows them bursts of agility, enabling them to jump over large enemies and strike from unexpected angles. Even other Astartes speak about a sense of uneasiness seeing what in all senses is a terminator-like unit swinging in the air and climbing light as a feather. This makes them formidable in melee, where they wield chainswords and scythes with deadly precision. Learning from the Thousand Sons’ mistakes, they do not over rely on their psyker powers, biomancy is meant as another tool in their arsenal. Their uncanny resistance aided by biomantic regenerative capabilities make them the perfect unmovable wall for humanity. 

Made behind the primarch’s back: 

“Father, we are ready, take us if you must.”

Cawl’s unprecedented authority within the Mechanicus and his status as the architect of the Primaris project provided him with enough leeway to conduct this experiment. His known… quirks and disregard for strict Imperial protocol helped him fly under the radar. His projects are already known for secrecy, but even with the trust on his skill and status he couldn’t afford for Guilliman discovering the Phantoms before they were ready. 

The choice of  Krieg didn't only rest on its hardy loyal woman but also for its isolation, secrecy of what truly goes in their underground hives and lack of general scrutiny from the Imperium. Krieg’s conditions allow for secretive experimentation; the people of  Krieg, known for their discipline and loyalty never questioned nor revealed Cawl’s activities, they were ordered not to anyways. It is said that long lines are made to this day for parents to proudly offer their daughters for testing, even though they didn’t know what it was about, the Emperor was looking for female children so they served accordingly. 

Cawl carefully controlled who knew about the Phantoms’ existence and purpose, involving only trusted Mechanicus personnel and Kriegsmen who were at a need to know bases of their assignment and sworn to secrecy. Any record-keeping or tracking was obfuscated through a complex mix of bureaucracy and Mechanicus’ religious beliefs, already only revealing the biggest secrets to the worthy in the  Omnissiah’ eyes. 

The Phantoms were obviously kept isolated from other Astartes chapters and Imperial forces to avoid detection. In their deployments, the Phantoms engaged enemies with minimal support, focusing on missions that required little to no backup. Training and conditioning was completed in Mechanicus-controlled facilities under Cawl’s lock and key, keeping them away from inquisitive eyes. He implemented protocols restricting their interaction with other Imperial personnel, ensuring their knowledge and exposure remained minimal.

The Phantoms’ early deployments were limited  remote or particularly hazardous battlefields far from populated areas or Imperial forces, where only the toughest units were expected to survive. These are regions affected by warp taint, plague, or xenos threats, where the survival of any unit would be notable but not easily verified. 

Cawl specifically chose high-mortality missions where the Phantoms could demonstrate their resilience. By deploying the Phantoms to zones where no ordinary Astartes force could feasibly operate, Cawl ensured they’d operate in isolated conditions, where successful missions were difficult to track or verify independently.

Later on he made use of trusted Rogue Traders and Mechanicus explorator missions to test the Viridian Phantoms in the fringes of the Imperium. 

Reports and data on the Phantoms were  filed under vague terms or ambiguous classifications, described in ways that did not reveal their true origin or makeup. Listed as specialized Krieg regiments or other “experimental” Mechanicus units when deployed. These reports kept them concealed, making it appear as if they were simply part of a contingent of the Death Korps or other Mechanicus-approved forces rather than a unique chapter of Astartes.

Physical appearance, chapter culture and personality: 

“Through pain and flame, we fall

And if you can stay, sister, then we'll show you the way

To return from the ashes we call.”

Moration’s gene seed gives the Viridian Phantoms a formidable yet eerie appearance that sets them apart from other chapters. Considered some if not the tallest Primaris Marines, they are built like a block of muscle, needing great upper body strength to hold their full armored weight while hanging mid air. Their skin turns a pale white or slightly grayish hue with visible veins. Their hair typically ranges in shades of white, silver, or light gray. They tend to keep their hair very long and extensively braided. Their eyes are described as a ‘pale gaze’ and ‘lifeless’ or with an almost glassy appearance, people claim that the Phantoms' gaze is ‘detached’ looking through them rather than at them. The intensity of their gaze is increased by how little they tend to blink unnerving those unaccustomed to their manner. All of these add up into giving them their phantom-like appearance they are named after.

They barely speak, when they do, it is done with precision and brevity. There is no room for flowery language or embellishment; they say what needs to be said and nothing more. Their speaking cadence tends to be emotionless and unenthusiastic, not due to lack of emotion but their little interaction with non Phantoms. As very sensible biomancers, they are constantly in touch with the inner processes inside those around them, including emotional responses. Spoken and gestured communication is just a poor mockery of the higher level subtle, unspoken connections they share. This makes them seem distant or even cold to those who rely more on direct communication, this lack of visible emotion could create misunderstandings or discomfort.

The Phantoms struggle hard to connect with outsiders, as they find typical methods of bonding cumbersome or shallow compared to the natural closeness they share among themselves. When interacting with other chapters, they struggle to adapt to more conventional forms of camaraderie, finding it challenging to communicate complex intentions in ways others understand and at the same time making them highly aware of the moods or intents of others. Knowing of the fear, frustration, anger and paranoia they cause first hand; but without the skills to properly address other's concerns. 

This sensitivity fosters deep bonds between the Phantoms, allowing them to anticipate and understand each other in ways that most Astartes can’t. It creates a near-unbreakable trust, as they’re constantly aware of each other's emotional state, intentions, and even physical condition, reinforcing the idea of sisterhood beyond the individual. The electrical discharge in one sister’s muscles ordering to lift a bolter is sensed by the others, copying the same movements, making them capable of reacting to their environment like a well coordinated flock of birds. This gives them an almost meditative focus in battle. Their awareness of their sisters’ movements allows them to coordinate without spoken commands, making them seem eerily calm and united.

Krieg’s women to the core, their loyalty to the Emperor and their battalion is absolute. They see themselves as living tools of the Imperium, willing to sacrifice anything, including their lives, without hesitation. This unwavering dedication makes them reliable but can come across as suicidal, looking for death in death’s sake. Each Phantom believes their existence is expendable if it means the mission succeeds or the forces of humanity are protected. 

The Viridian Phantoms also hold a profound respect for their fallen allies, whether they are their own sisters, other Astartes, or even mortal guardsmen and civilians. They view these fallen as martyrs of the Emperor’s cause. As a tribute, unless the remains are corrupted by Chaos, Phantoms often collect small pieces of armor, bones, cloth, strands of hair, or even rubble from the battlefield and fashion them into beads and charms. These adornments are extensively braided into their hair or hung across their weapons and armor, serving as personal memorials and tokens of respect. Teeth, in particular, are a favored keepsake known among the Phantoms as "flesh pearls," close second to hair which they braid with their own.  

With so much of their time spent among the Mechanicus it is of no surprise that one of the most significant aspects of their culture is the ceremonial tending to their gear and weapons. Each battle-sister sees her armor and weapons as an extension of herself, considering them "bound" to her flesh and spirit. Outside of battle, Phantoms often spend hours in silent preparation, maintaining and blessing their chains, hooks, and weapons in a ritual that reinforces their connection. It has been reported that this strong belief on their gear as part of their flesh has ended into several occurrences where their biomantic powers also restore cracked ceramite or instances where guns keep shooting when it is obvious that the magazine must have been emptied. 

This meticulous care for their gear makes the Phantoms selective about who is allowed to handle it. They permit only trusted Mechanicus priests or highly skilled serfs with whom they have overseen working many times to assist in maintaining their equipment. These chosen few would be expected to respect the Phantoms' many rituals and understand the reverence the Phantoms have for their weapons and armor. These selected few granted the honor of working with the Phantoms' gear have to undergo bonding rites, long meditations and purification rituals to align with each specific Phantom that has chosen them to tend to this sacred part of themselves to the highest of standards. 

The Phantoms’ secret rites, meditations and mantras help them both handle their oversensitivity to all life around them and reinforce their religious adoration for death and sacrifice.  The Phantoms hold pre-battle rituals where they recite personal death vows. These vows are spoken in low, emotionless tones, acknowledging their acceptance of death and pledging to die honorably if it serves the Imperium. Followed by their well known Death Hymns which they sing in ritual and even during battle, Viridian Phantom Death Hymns are the only instance of them raising their voices and carrying emotionally charged statements. They most are directed to a figure they ‘Father’, if it refers to either The Emperor, Mortarion or both is unknown. These chants carry an ominous, almost haunting quality, blending grim acceptance, defiance, and reverence for their purpose. The chants are rhythmic, echoing through the battlefield and unnerving allies and enemies alike with their strange, almost theatrical longing for death. They possess sections where the volume crescendos to shouts or quiets to an eerie whisper, transitioning between powerful declarations and subdued, haunting verses.

Currently, the Viridian Phantoms have no official Chapter Master due to their uncertain experimental state. Leadership has fallen by the battle sisters consensus upon Revenant (Captain) Lena Arendt, a figure respected for her exceptional combat skill and biomantic abilities. She is often referred to as the ‘Ceramite Fae’, due to even amongst other Phantoms her seamless grace mid air while fully armored creates the illusion of effortless flight. A fatal flaw her and many phantoms inherit from Mortarion is how much of a hard time they have at asking for help from non Phantoms, maybe not much out of their gene seed but their desire to prove their chapter is worthy to exist.

Gear and unconventional battle tactics: 

“We are the scythe that reaps the corruption, 

We are the chain that bounds the monstrosity to a kneel, 

We are the knife that carves the names of the fallen onto our enemies, 

We are the Emperor’s unbroken might, 

We are his bleeding sacrifice so we could still have a light, 

We are to fall so the many may rise, 

We are the Viridian Phantoms, 

And we are Death, so Humanity may live.”

As mentioned, The Phantoms hold close reverence to their gear and decorate them extensively with allies’ remains, one of the most memorable are their oracles (librarians) and gravekeepers’ (chaplains) complex teeth veils. Their armor is modeled on the reinforced Mark X, heavily modified for maximum durability. The plating is reinforced to withstand corrosive environments, disease, and warp-tainted toxins, often appearing thicker and more robust than standard armor. It is painted in a ghostly viridian green with black accents on the trim and silver detailing. Their helmets’ visors emit a ghostly pale green glow, most of them are inscribed with small runes or faint biomantic symbols.

Each Phantom carries many sets of chains and hooks designed for their signature combat style. These chains are attached to their gauntlets or armor and can be used to latch onto large enemies, structures, or terrain. The chains have runic symbols carved along each link alongside attached beads and charms, and when combined with their biomantic abilities, they become unbreakable extensions of the Phantom’s will, allowing them to anchor enemies or secure themselves in chaotic battles. The hooks are often engraved with the names of fallen sisters or even fallen guardsmen or civilians whose names they find on dog tags and forgotten personal effects among the rubble. 

The Viridian Phantoms favor chain swords and most importantly scythes for close combat, weapons that symbolize their affinity for melee and their willingness to face foes up close. All of them also have the ability to extend into chain and grappling hooks. Their scythes are heavy, with blade edges honed to a sheen, used for sweeping attacks against larger foes. Made to grab, mutilate and disembowel in single clean swipes. Alongside their melee weapons they can also favor large shields that chained together create shield walls to push back at the latest of waves.

They are no strangers to range weaponry, which even if they aren’t their favored, each is shown equal love and customization as the melee does. Sometimes even consecrating every individual bullet in day or even week long rituals meant for deep meditation and calming their psyker abilities. 

Even though they may be great assets for them, The Phantoms shun the use of chemical and viral weapons of any kind in their fight to distance themselves from their genesire’s legacy and fall into nurgle’s claws. 

Appart to what they are known for, falling gargantuan monstrosities; the Viridian Phantoms' unparalleled resilience, little regard for their own lives and biomantic abilities would lend themselves to shockingly bold, almost reckless battle tactics and strategies. These tactics seem suicidal to other Space Marines and not Codex Compliant at all:

-Shield killbox: The Phantoms would march forward under heavy enemy fire interlocking shields with one another. Using their scythes they would pull and mutilate anything that comes closer, then throw the helpless bodies behind them where other sisters await to finish them up. Functioning as an efficient assembly line of carnage. 

-Fire on my position: In coordination with allied forces, the Phantoms move into a position where friendly heavy artillery or orbital bombardment is directed. Knowing their unique resilience, they would withstand the controlled onslaught that devastates their foes, emerging from the smoke and flames, most of the time.

-Living bait: Phantoms would feign retreat or send vulnerable looking single units, drawing enemy forces into pre-arranged kill zones laden with explosives. Then, they would walk on the trap while still in the blast radius, relying on their enhanced durability to survive. Phantoms might also herd unknowing enemies into the blast radius of allied tanks. Or charge headlong into fortified enemy positions or into the path of tanks, absorbing fire and drawing attention while the rest of the battalion encircles the distracted enemy.

-Suicide landings: Phantoms generally do not fight alone unless they have a strategic purpose. Like sending one charging (or jumping off flying vehicle) into enemy positions or even the heart of their formations with explosives strapped to their armor, activating them upon impact. This act would be often followed by the surreal sight of the Phantom emerging from the carnage, bloodied but alive. 

-Walking beacons: They do have a unique skill to escort survivors through dangerous zones normal humans would not survive. Making the helpless human stay close to them inside their auras so fire, disease or acid would not hurt them or would not feel the pain and heal quickly. They tend to cover the survivors' eyes and even ears so they feel no fear or run away in the presence of danger, as running away gets them out of the Phantom's aura, which means they will succumb to the factors the are being protected against. And the people's trust and faith that the Phantoms can protect them actually makes it easier to work their biomancy on them. 

Cawl’s secret brought to the light: 

“Hear hear, Father, we're all going to die

Father, we're all going to die

Do not sing me any farewells, for me you must not cry,

hear hear, Father, we're all going to die.”

The Viridian Phantoms' first encounter with Guilliman was intense and deeply scrutinized. After proving themselves time and time again completing dangerous missions in secret under Cawl’s direction, the Phantoms were finally brought to Guilliman’s attention as a fully-formed, specialized force created to withstand the most hostile environments and fight the Imperium’s most monstrous foes. Masking themselves as just another battalion of the Unnumbered Sons, with the help of voice modulators in their voxes making them sound masculine (aside from restricting their vox channels when singing). 

They were deployed alongside his forces in a brutal battle. Observing them, Guilliman noted their resilience and uncanny coordination as they maneuvered in unison, taking down enormous threats with sacrificial tactics. The Phantoms suffered grave wounds but continued to fight, showing an almost eerie selflessness that unsettled many nearby Ultramarines.

After the battle, Guilliman confronted the Phantoms directly, demanding to know their origins. Their leader, Revenant Lena Arendt, revealed their loyalty and their gene-sire without hesitation, asserting their purpose and loyalty to the Emperor, not to Mortarion’s legacy. Guilliman, appalled by Cawl’s audacity, proclaimed that their very existence was an affront to the Imperium and must be erased.

The Phantoms responded by raising their bolters to their own heads, ready to end their lives at Guilliman's command. Stunned, Guilliman halted them. They remain a battalion awaiting Guilliman’s final judgment, will they be eliminated? Given a suicide mission hoping they never return? Will they ever back their birthright as the 14th? The future looks bleak and uncertain for the Viridian Phantoms. But the primarch must hasten as talk is spreading.

[rainbow-pop-arts]

Diary Entry Thoughts: Chrollo’s Childhood

Hiii, so I recently read HxH chapters 395-397 and I guess they upset me so much that I decided to share the review I wrote about it in my diary. (* °ヮ° *)

WARNINGS: Spoilers for ch. 395-397, something messed up happened to an abducted child

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Guess who reached the HxH chapters where they showed the Phantom Troupe’s childhood??? Me!!! Ch 395-397!!

Oh man, Chrollo was such a sweetie and a kid who loved to learn. Pakunoda looked like she had a crush on him.

There was also a girl named Sarasa and another one named Sheila.

(The same Sheila who met Kurapika & Pairo!)

I have a soft spot for kids so seeing Chrollo and the others performed on stage while a bunch of other kids watched them and cheered, I loved it! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

When Sarasa went missing, the other kids actually offered to help find her. Oh, and speaking of her………Oh man. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

So for full context, since people in Meteor City don’t have any legal documentation, they’re easily targets for abduction, and Sarasa was a victim. Chrollo and the others found her body in a bag and a note that only Chrollo knew what was written on it, but never told what it said.

But the most icky part was that it was implied that Sarasa was tortured to death while being recorded. Made me sick to my stomach and wanna throw up. ( ´ཀ` )

It’s really sad that if she hadn’t died, the Phantom Troupe would’ve been performers instead of murderous thieves.

Written on Wed, 28 Aug 2024

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I have a feeling I interpreted what I read on the chapters wrong, so if I did please let me know! ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

[gayspaekles]

*****SPOILER ALERT*****

Uhm okay?! I cannot say a single bad thing about the film?! Wow?! My mind has been blown!!

-first off, I’m completely obsessed with the skeleton dances!! I need more from them! I need a backstory! Do they work for the ministry?

-I was NOT emotionally prepared for seeing Papa cry!!

-Tobias channeling Mary Goore in faith & rats was incredible! Ugh that growl 🥵 Tobias’ dream of doing death metal might not have happened like how he envisioned, but goddamn he can still do it!

-Was not prepared for the amount of laughter this movie gave me! Papa is so extra but my goodness we all were laughing so much.

-I was so so so happy to see Mountain, Cumulus, Cirrus & aurora with a lot of screen time! We don’t get to see our babes so often because they can’t leave their stands (understandably)

-I loved phantoms interactions!! He was so playful and adorable. I’ve always loved his addition to the band since day 1. I miss Chris but I love Randy sm.

-I’m so incredible happy for the people who got to experience this ritual. I’m so happy for you guys from the bottom of my heart! How amazing a ritual.

-if you have ghost you have everything was STUNNING live. That woman’s operatic lines were gorgeous and that song had me bawling my eyes out.

-I personally loved the multi-angle viewpoint myself. It’s a little difficult to keep track because there IS so much to see but that’s why I’ll just rewatch it and rewatch it and rewatch it again!

-it gave me the same feeling as my rituals as last year. I cannot even begin to explain how this band makes me feel. Some how, some way, they just speak to me. I feel like I’m not just a fan, I’m a person. I’m being heard in ways I don’t feel in everyday life. I’m apart of something that we all appreciate and love and understand. Tobias wasn’t kidding when he described going to ritual like going to church in the sense that we are going someplace that should be a safe haven for us. His speeches in the film made me bawl my eyes out. Okay, this is the end of my critical review lol can you tell I loved it? 😂

Our father, who art in Hell

Unhallowed, be thy name

Cursed be the sons and daughters

Of thine nemesis who are to blame

Thy kingdom come, Nema!

[huffle-dork]

Long Live the King

Chapter 1: Fallen Swords

Read Fantasy Masks | Read Swapboys | Read the first FM adventure | Other Multiverse Adventures | Read on AO3 (AN: Hello everyone!! I hope you are as excited as we are for a full Fantasy Masks Adventure with the Swaps! Just a quick heads up in terms of timeline this is after SITCV but before SATCV! But that's really all you need to know since this was our second rp like ever! Hope you guys enjoy and strap in! This is a long journey! :3) ◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

“Alt!! These aren’t authentic!!” Chase whines, pulling on his tunic that closely resembled the one he wore the few days they stayed in Glasúil. “They’re gonna be able to tell!! These are machine stitched!” 

Alt rolled his eyes, dressed similarity to how he was before too, phantom mask around his neck. He looked up from the spells he was reviewing, “Chase…I know you’re a superhero. But, neither of us make enough to afford accurately-made, custom, medieval clothing!” 

Jackie grinned from where he was sitting crossed legged on the couch. “Well- I still think you’re both super nerds for already dressing up!” 

The Brody brothers both glare at Jackie. 

Dr. J tsks quietly, shaking his head. “I think it’s admirable,” He said. The good doctor was still getting used to having a voice again, after so long believing he couldn’t speak. So, he spoke constantly like he was trying to be the most model library guest ever. But, at least he was slowly healing from whatever Mag did to fuck with his head. “That kind of passion is rare these days, it should be embraced!” 

“Even if it’s cringe?” Jackie teased. 

Chase threw a pillow at him, “like you’re not cringe about superheroes, dork!” 

“Both of you are cringe! How bout that?!” Alt snapped with a look of annoyance. 

“Ah friends can we please not do the fighting?” Henny asked nervously. “This trip is for ah- bonding… is it not?” 

The other boys looked at each before Alt sighed with a smile. “yeah, you’re right Hen. Thanks for the reminder.” He shot a pointed look at Jackie and Chase. “Iii think I’m done with preparation, if you guys wanna gather round.” Alt says, shutting his book and arranging stuff on the coffee table. The boys all crowded around as Alt explained: “Okay- these bracelets are attuned with runes- they should try to find each other. They’ll glow when one of us are near- and if you press the gem and say loonu then I’ll show you a path to the nearest signal. Blue means you're close, green is far away. It should work there since it’s connected to my magic… that way, we can hopefully find each other quickly! And! I got a universal translation spell on there too- it might struggle a bit but it should help until we can find Marvin…” 

Jackie winces slightly at the name but nods. “Pog~! sounds like you thought of everything, Alt!” 

Alt smiles shyly and shrugs, “Well- we’re kinda experts on this now, I’ll say~!” 

“You sure you got the right code, bro?” Chase asks, watching as Alt pulls out the TRVLR. 

The Glitch nods and smiles, “Yeah. I even tried to double check with Anti… the UF prefix should be correct!” He scrolls through his favorited list and finds the one he’s looking for: UF-0606021FM. 

Bro can’t help but excitedly stim, securing his bracelet on his wrist as he watches the rest of his friends do the same. “Guys this is gonna be so much fun!! We can get fresh air and Jackie, the fantasy Jackie said we can teach you to sword fight like he taught me! And Jay, you’ll love learning stuff from fantasy Henrik and and Henny! I bet you’ll love seeing the language and the sights and-!” 

Alt laughs and nudges Chase playfully, “Breathe, bro. Don’t pass out before we even get there!” 

Jackie grins, “Yeah dude- don’t worry. I tease but… I’m stoked! This is gonna be super cool!” 

Dr. J nods with a kind smile. “I am quite excited to see the place you all have been so enamored with. Maybe learning the history too… if it has any connection to our world here… well… beside the obvious.” He chuckles. 

Henny laughs and prances on his feet. “I am just glad my new ear thingys are working! Hopefully I will not be too lost! I want to experience this new world as best as I can!!” Then he frowns and anxiously messes with his vest. “Though… it will be… strange… without Sahne.”

Alt looks back at Henrik with sympathy. “…I get it Hen… it’ll be weird without Glitches… as much as I wanna bring her it’s just… not safe for them. They could get lost really easily…” 

Henrik sighs dramatically, “yes yes… I know…” he almost whines, crossing his arms. 

Jackie leans over by Alt with a smirk. “at least they’re in good hands though! A nurse’s hands~ which you would know allll about, right, Alt~?” He grins cheekily and Alt blushes before finding the pillow Chase threw earlier and stuffing it against Jackie’s face, pushing him down into the couch. Jackie laughs and tries to push him off. “Hey! What?? Am I wrong?!!” 

Alt glitches away and pretends to check the TRVLR idly, schooling his expression into something neutral. “Okay well- Jackie’s not coming then-“ 

“What?! Hey Alt, c’mon man! I was joking!!” Jackie cries out, hopping to his feet. Then he pauses as he sees Alt trying to hide his grin. “…yer an asshole-“ 

“Love you too, Jackie~” Alt replies cheekily before picking up his bag and securing his jacket around his waist. “Alright gents! We ready?” 

As the group of friends prepares to jump, a shadow slinks across the wall, eyes narrowing. His puppets were planning to jump to another dimension without him? Well… that wasn’t going to happen. Magnificent had a score to settle with that arrogant Royal… he would get that thing’s head on a spike. As his cub gathers everyone around and explains how the jump works, Mag slinks his presence closer… he can’t give himself away too early. Then, that annoying apprentice of his would notice and this would all be for naught. Patience… he had nothing but patience. 

Like a cat stalking its prey, he watched. He waited. He sees the Hero seem to stiffen, looking around the room with narrowed eyes. 

Alt pauses his explanation, just as Henny is taking the glitch’s hand to start a chain with the others. “…Chase? Is something wrong?” 

Luckily for Mag though, Chase looks back at the younger brother and smiles quickly. “Hm? Yeah yeah no it’s fine! Just.. thought I… felt something-“ 

Alt glitches a bit nervously but returns the smile. “Well- maybe it’s the wind? Or nerves… but it’s gonna be fine! We’re prepared this time!” 

Chase laughs, proud to see Alt confident and not paranoid for once. He really was getting stronger and stronger. “Yeah- you’re right. C’mon! We’re wasting sunlight over there- probably!” He takes Jackie’s hand to complete the circle. 

“Jesus… this feels like a prayer circle-“ Jackie mutters, “or like- those sharing things they make the kids do.” 

Dr. J nudges him, “Jackie- Alt probably needs to concentrate. Show a little more decorum, hm?” 

Alt laughs, “It’s fine- this is like second nature now!” He grins with confidence and powers on the device, moving his finger to the jump button and- 

Now’s his chance! As Alt charges his magic into the device, Mag lashes out of hiding and appears in the circle, grabbing Alt’s wrist holding the TRVLR and sinking his magic in to try to get a hold of him. “Going without me, Alt? Well that simply won’t-!”

He expects banter, surprise and Alt attempting to glitch- 

He did not expect the screaming. 

Magnificent startles back as Alt- and soon after, Chase, starts to scream bloody murder, their eyes quickly filing with corruption as their backs arc and bodies spasm like they’re being shocked. The black magic Mag tried to use to control Alt’s magic and the TRVLR goes haywire and backfires- lighting the room up with purple light as it tries to fight Alt’s blue-green. But Alt’s magic is quickly losing, the room growing dark. The apartment fades away into black- and the green orbs that start to appear as the group feels like they’re falling glitch and flicker with static. The black air around Alt and Bro seems to shatter like glass and purple fills their eyes completely. And then… just as soon as it starts- the screaming stops- and the connection starts to pull them apart- taking the now seemingly passed out and glassy eyes Brodys away into the darkness. The air fills with the horrible sound of static. 

Jackie, Dr. J and Henny try to cry out for them- Magnificent covers his ears against the grating sound- And then they’re all falling into fragmented, broken black- tv static and purple staining the way.

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When Alt falls into Glasuil- it’s not a smooth fall like all the times he’s jumped before. No, its painful. Something is being ripped from him- rewritten. He falls onto his hands and knees, gasping for breath like he just broke the surface of the water after drowning. Then, he bites back a cry as he curls up towards the ground, his body glitching wildly. But, it’s not how he usually glitches. It’s like… the world- the air around him… is spiking- glitching… fragmenting into him like shards of stained glass. Glitching Into his brain. His being- his soul. Everything is tinted purple. It’s hard to form thoughts at all as he dazedly falls to the ground completely, like a rag doll. His glassy eyes stare out at nothing as purple flashes and glitches in his eyes. And when this phenomenon is done… his eyes seem to gray. They’re still his, still the same colors, central heterochromia and all. But they’re less vibrant. Like… something is missing.

Alt has landed in the middle of a small courtyard garden filled with bushes and flowers. There are stone walls surrounding this green space, with arches leading to the interior of the building. Standing at one of these arches is a pair of helmet-wearing warriors. The tunics they wear over their chainmail are black, with a design of a green-striped shield with a blue circle in the center. Despite their helmets hiding their eyes it’s clear that they’re looking at Alt. They glance at each other, unsure, then back at him. One puts a hand on a sword by their side.

For a scarily long time, Alt doesn’t move, his brain too scrambled to even process where he is or who’s in front of him. Then, suddenly he sits up and gasps again, blinking rapidly as he takes in the garden. He shakily pushes himself to his feet, body glitching just slightly- enough that he doesn’t seem to take notice. “…w..where… am I…?” He asks quietly. Then, he freezes, finally taking in the sight of the warriors. He shakily steps back, eyes wide. 

Though once he’s on his feet… the warriors can recognize a white mask around his neck, marked just like the other Masked Phantoms. 

The moment the warriors see the mask they stiffen slightly. The other one also reaches for their sword. "Fanann keart," one of them says. Which, somehow, Alt knows means "Stay right there." 

There's a faint flash of green light somewhere inside the building. And soon a man walks out into the corridor. He wears fine clothes, including a green cloak with the hood down. Brown hair is held back by a golden circlet. He looks at Alt with emerald green eyes. "Bhuel. Didhui aan." Again, Alt knows this to mean "Well. Hello there."

Alt is trying not to panic, trying to figure out why his heart is beating so fast and his body feels like it’s made of lightning. But his head is so- fuzzy. He… he can’t seem to remember… anything…! Everything feels wrong..! But he doesn’t know why! He feels his breath leave him as the king steps into the courtyard. He staggers back, panic clear in his eyes. “A-aan Rith…!” He whispers. 

And the King is surprised to see… he doesn’t need a translation spell. The boy is speaking Glasish. But, this is a far cry from the last time the king laid eyes on Alt Brody. This boy doesn’t look like the powerful lightning bird he saw before, blessed by the Elders. He looks… lost and confused. And based on what he knows… his mind doesn’t seem fully intact. Something has happened… something had messed with his memories. And fate… has delivered him straight to his castle. 

The King blinks, momentarily confused. Out of curiosity he reaches out to Alt's memories to see what led him here... and finds only scattered pieces where there is usually a continuous stream of consciousness. How... unusual. Something definitely happened, perhaps something magical in origin. But one thing is clear. This man does not know anything. Nothing important at least. An idea sparks in his mind. 

As Alt stares at the king, his fuzzy brain can only register one thing: danger. He can hardly even remember his name… there’s so many of them floating around in his head. But, He knows he can’t stay here! The mask around his neck seems to be the only truly solid thing he can remember… The Masked Phantoms. And the King wants the Masked Phantoms dead. Then, one more solid thing comes back to him. He has magic…! The fuzziness he feels in his limbs that spark like fire confuses him to no end but- he tries to dig into that feeling. Maybe he can use it to get away! His eyes flicker to the empty space behind the King in the corridor- before he tries to appear behind him to run. 

The King reaches out to him but--right, he forgets this man can [imíonosht]. Glishing, as he called it. Alt disappears before the King can reach him. He whirls around, silently commanding his warriors to block off the nearest entrance, but to not appear hostile. They do so instantly. 

"Alt," the King says, trying to sound more calming than he usually does. "What's wrong?" The result is a bit stilted, but the main point--non-hostility--gets across.

Alt stumbles as he finishes glitching and looks down at his fizzling and popping hands with confusion. “W-what kind of magic is this…?!” He whispers to himself. Like he doesn’t recognize it. He stiffens as the king speaks and whips around, looking at him with wide eyes. His hand reaches back on instinct, curling around something in his pocket. It feels weird but… Alt’s brain dimly reminds him it’s a knife. He doesn’t draw it though, he just looks at the King with panicked eyes. “Y..you… you know… my name…?” He asks quietly, as if he’s not even sure of it. This could be very very bad. 

Hazy memories float around his head- he’s crossed paths with the King before. But… he knows his face- his name. He could be killed. He swallows shakily and flips out his knife, then seems surprised for a second at the mechanics of it. But, he holds out the knife at the King and warbles out, “W-What are you playing at?” He tries to growl, but it falls flat. “W-Why are you t-talking like you know me?” 

The warriors tense up again when Alt pulls a knife on their ruler, but the King holds out a hand, ordering them to wait. "Because I do know you," he says calmly. "You don't remember? It was a very brief encounter, and I'm afraid I didn't make the best impression." He flashes a smile, drawing on some of Aodhan's tattered personality to try and make it warm. Again, the result is a bit awkward, giving Alt the impression that this man before him isn't used to genuinity but is trying. "There was a fight. But I have no desire to fight you now. Something is clearly wrong. Did something happen...? Do you remember what?"

Alt starts to lower the knife, even as he stares at the King with a guarded expression. But… that smile- and the concern in his voice. Alt can’t help but let the truth fall from his lips. “I…I don’t.. know-“ He answers quietly. Purple flashes and glitches in his eyes again and he hisses in pain and grabs at his head, dropping his knife. Alt pants through the pain that follows and shakily breathes. “S-something… I-is missing I… I don’t… I can’t remember a-anything…!” Now he starts to sound distressed and scared, his tough mask falling. He grips tightly at his hair. “I don’t know how I got here- o-or why…! Or why my m-magic feels wrong! E…everything feels w̶̓̕r̶̈́͠o̶̜̊n̶͑̽ĝ̶̜!” He shouts at the end, his body and voice stuttering like something electric. But this only seems to frighten him more.

The King frowns. How strange... but... perhaps useful. "It's... it's going to be alright," he says awkwardly. Slowly he reaches out, but stops, unsure if physical touch is appropriate here. It's been so long since he tried acting this way. "Take deep breaths. This is... strange, but we can work with this. Your magic... from what I saw, this is actually how it's supposed to be. Perhaps. We didn't exactly talk about it, but you seemed confident in it last time. 

Alt unconsciously glitches back from the king, eyes wide again. He knits his eyebrows in confusion and looks at his magic, “…strange… I don’t think I’ve seen.. a-anything like this… before. Not in Glasúil…”

“As for how you got here... I'm curious about that, too." The King looks over at the warriors. They'd alerted him about someone in the courtyard. Further peering into their minds reveals that Alt really did just appear there out of nowhere. "I wonder if anyone else came with you..."

Alt feels like he needs to hide. He’s not sure who he should trust… if he can trust anyone. But… what’s the alternative…? He’s not even sure if he can remember anyone else- Brief flashes of other people pop up out of the fog. A wolf masked man in a red coat. A owl masked man in a white tunic. The wizard in the cat mask with the white and gray familiar. The quiet kind man in a rabbit mask who spoke in hands… and the Hunter in the deer mask. The one that looked and sounded like his brother… 

…wait… brother? 

The next flash is a little more intense as images of another brightly colored man appears in Alt’s memories, shining bright like the sun. But… so many of the flashes only leave Alt more confused. Why were his clothes so bright and sleek? Shiny almost? He’s never seen someone dress like that before… that he can remember. But, a recent memory seems to calm down his confusion- seeing Chase smile at him in the simple tunic he always wore. 

“…m…my brother-“ Alt mumbles, “Chase… he’s here somewhere and…” He tries not to let his muddled brain mess with his tongue. The images of the Masked Phantoms flash again and he feels fierce determination at the sight. His friends… he had to find his friends. The Rebels. 

At this, Alt starts to back up again, trying to look for another exit. Even if the king is being nice… Alt knows he’s a rebel. He can’t let his guard down. Then he cringes again as black magic tries to spark up in his eyes, and he gasps, a name falling from his lips, “M-Magnificent…!” He pants and leans against the nearest thing he can, feeling sick. The cruel laughter and pulsing purple that’s invading his mind feels too familiar.. and not in a good way. “…he- he’s… he’s here too-“ 

The King's eyes darken upon hearing that. "Magnificent is here too..." he repeats. Sounds like this is just like last time. But now, the bits of memory flashing through Alt's mind, the confusion about the strange clothes... Alt has forgotten about anything besides this world. How strange. But again, probably useful. If Alt has no memory of his world from before, then he'll have no desire to return to it. Hmm... 

"Well then, I suppose we should find him. I know you may be feeling... confused right now, in terms of loyalties." He nods at the mask around Alt's neck. Judging by his memories, he still harbors fond feelings for those rebels. "But Magnificent is a great danger. It's best if we deal with him quickly." He pushes a bit with that statement, hoping to take advantage of Alt's confused state to get him to listen. "There's also a chance that your brother is with him."

Even without his memories- Alt’s body remembers the fear and hatred associated with Magnificent. He knows that cat bastard poses just as much of a threat to the kingdom as the King… that him and his brother would stop at nothing to subdue him. He blinks and then narrows his eyes at the King, “…you want to… help me?” He asks slowly, looking at him skeptically. But, he does agree… Magnificent can’t be left to his own devices. He goes to pick up his knife and flips it closed, but he doesn’t take his eyes off the king. “…but… maybe… I-if you want to assist me in finding Magnificent then… fine. A… a temporary truce.”

The King nods, trying for another friendly smile. It's a bit colder than the last one, but not suspiciously so. "A temporary truce." He doesn't mind. Truces rarely stay temporary with powers like this. He turns to the warriors and commands them to step to the side so he and Alt can leave. They do so. "We should get started right away, then. I don't think Mag is anywhere is the castle. It may take some time to find him."

Alt nods slowly, still keeping his distance from the King as he rubs his mask. Then, he shudders suddenly, feeling the hair on the back of his neck prick up as the air suddenly feels electric. He glitches back- just in time to see a figure appear in a colorful wave of rectangles that buzz like angry bees. 

The King's eyes widen as he feels the familiar hum of electricity in the air.Then, he gets tackled to the ground, Magnificent pinning him down. His claws dig into the royal’s shoulders as he laughs darkly, magic sparking wildly around him. “Well hello again, Aodhan~!” The mad magician cackles. But, in a flash his expression turns murderous and angry as he lashes out to try to choke the king while he’s down. 

Alt stumbles back, watching with confusion and horror.

The King gets the wind knocked out of him. He looks up into a familiar set of black-sclera'd eyes. "What the--" The words get cut off with the rest of this body's airflow. How did Magnificent get here without him realizing?! Oh, right, of course. The magician can [imíonosht] as well. Just in a different way than Alt. A foolish oversight on his part. The King feels the tightening sensation of suffocation in his lungs, but he doesn't feel the need to breathe or the panic that most would. He reaches down to his belt, fingers trembling in a frustrating way, and draws his seax. In a flash he holds it up to Magnificent's neck, a harmless fragment of lightning arcing along the blade, barely missing Mag's flesh. 

{Kill this body and I'll make you regret it,} he says in the magician's mind.

Magnificent stiffens a bit at the blade at his neck. Then he laughs madly and presses harder, corruption hot on his fingers. {And what will you do to me then, specter? Without a body- what harm can you pose? Sure you can find another host… but no one else will have the power you seek, will they?} He leans in close and growls with bared canines, “I want to see you writhe, powerless as the life is drained from you…” 

Alt panics more. They… can’t kill the King… right? Jackie was very much against that. He panics and then opens up his palm, sending out a wave of magic to try to get Mag off the King.

The magic just barely misses- but it does draw Mag’s attention as he glances at Alt and barks out, “Stay out of this, puppet!” His eyes darken to black pits as the air around Mag shimmers and twists from his magic. “Or I’ll make sure you suffer twice as much as him!” Alt shudders and staggers back, overtaken by fear.

The King narrows his eyes. The green color flickers for a bit--Aodhan is panicking, survival instincts breaking through his control. He presses the blade into Magnificent's neck, drawing a drop of blood. He has to act fast while Magnificent is distracted-- Or... he could try something else. 

{You would,} the King says thoughtfully. {Or... he would.} His eyes flick back to Alt. He's loathe to abandon this body after seven years of work, but if it comes down to it, they're both good alternatives. {And I think we've established that my control exceeds yours.} 

Black spots are starting to dance across his vision. If this doesn't work he has to make a decisive choice. As he speaks to Magnificent mentally, he turns to look at Alt, giving a wide-eyed look, silently pleading for help, reaching out and trying to influence Alt to act despite Mag's threats.

Anger fills Magnificent’s body as the King suggests stealing his body or his cub’s. He roars in rage and magic bursts on his arms, sharp and loud and hot. “Don’t you fucking dare you loathsome little snake!” He spits. 

Alt’s eyes meet the scared eyes of the King and he feels like he’s being pulled along in a fog- despite the fear pounding in his ears. Then, in a burst of magic and green lighting- the body of a brown coated wolf is driving itself into Mag’s side and shoving him off, making both of them roll down the hallway for a second. 

For a moment, the King thinks he's made the wrong decision, as the magic travels down Magnificent's arms and to his body. His back arches in instinctive pain and his grip on the seax slips as it lands on the grass right by his head-- And then it's gone. Magnificent is knocked to the side and the King sits up, gasping, testing the skin on his neck for bruises or other marks. 

Magnificent yells in anger and quickly gets to his feet, spitting in feral rage. “you pathetic mistake!! I should-!” Alt however, in the time it took for Mag to get up, has quickly shifted back to his human form and is looking at himself in disbelief and confusion. He sees Mag towering over him and scrambles back, cowering and shaking. Mag stands there confused. …what happened to his fearless apprentice? The one with such a fearsome bite? …something happened during that jump… it’s almost like… Alt’s forgotten how his magic works. 

The King stands up, grabbing the seax as he does, and looks back and forth between the cowering Alt and the confused Mag. He takes a brief look into Mag's thoughts. "Pardon the intrusion," the King says in a hoarse voice. "But that's exactly it." He looks at Magnificent. "How dishonorable of you, attacking someone who doesn't even remember you." Though, to be fair, the King can't say that he wouldn't do the same under other circumstances.

Magnificent startles and then glares at the King. But slowly he looks back down at Alt. 

Alt tries to hide his shaking as he squeaks out, “I… I sort of- remember you…” 

Mag looks temporary enraged by this and probes Alt’s mind as well. He startles back at the fragmented void that awaits and looks at Alt with wide eyes. “…how… did this-?” He starts to say and then frowns, remembering the burst of static and Alt and Chase screaming and- “…my magic must have affected the TRVLR… and… in turn… messed with his memories.” He kneels down by Alt and lashes out, taking his chin and tilting it back and forth as he searches his mind. “…fascinating… it’s like… he believes he’s from this world….! Oh that is rich~!” He laughs then shoves Alt back, who just glitches slightly and scrambles back, curling in on himself. He feels like livestock… being observed before he’s picked off to be the next meal. 

Mag sighs and then turns towards the King and bares his teeth, “Can’t even take advantage of such a treat.. not when you still need to be dealt with!” He lights his hand with green fire and prowls towards the King once more.

The King backs up, holding his seax in front of him defensively. "Do you really want to do this here, Mar--Magnificent?" This is not the time to provoke the magician. "In the middle of my own palace?" Magnificent hears the shing of metal. The two helmeted warriors are still there. And they've drawn the swords. "Do you know how many resources I can call upon here?" Indeed, he's already mentally calling to as many of his special forces as he can, just in case. "Believe it or not, I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to." His eyes flick to Alt again. {Besides, with our expertise combined, we can truly take advantage of this situation.}

Magnificent’s eyes flicker towards the guards as they draw their swords. He flashes black pitted eyes towards them and growls. But then he tilts his head towards the King and lowers his magic some. {…is that so…? Hm… this is a rare opportunity… one that might not present itself again.} He tilts his head at the King like a curious cat. {Are you suggesting another alliance, Aodhan?}

The King grins. {That's not my true name. But yes. Whatever happened seems like a freak accident, not something to happen more than once. In fact, to show you how sincere I am about this.} He sheathes the seax. The gesture probably doesn't read the same to Magnificent, without the context of this culture, but sheathing a weapon is a sign on trust. After all, it takes a while to draw it again. {I can tell you my true name. Since I know yours, it's only fair.} Once again, this may not come off the same to Magnificent. But in a land where legends of the Fair Folk stealing names are still fresh in the culture, this is very significant.

Magnificent straightens up, eyes alight with intrigue. He knew threats of the fey… a true name holds power. It’s the ultimate sign of trust. He lifts his head up and studies the King with a schooled expression. {…Alright.} He makes a go on gesture. 

Alt looks wearily at the two men- why does it feel like he’s missing a ton of valuable information right now? …is this a chance for him to run?

A smile flickers across the King's face. And for once, Magnificent gets a glimpse into his mind--truly his, not the mind of this person he's possessing. It last barely long enough for Magnificent to sense that the King is telling the truth. {I'm called Aneirin.} The name comes with a few faint images, buildings that look even older than the ones in this medieval world, blades clashing against each other, faces that mean nothing to Magnificent, metal twisted in the shape of a tree. And then the window is gone.

Magnificent blinks against the images, shaking out his head. The fact that the King also opened up his mind… and the images shown. Magnificent believes him. Besides… when else would get such a perfect chance? His cub was practically begging to be molded back into his perfect little pet. Mag grins back at the King, {Well then, Aneirin. What devious plot do you have in mind for our lost kitten, hm?}

{He looks about ready to bolt, so we need to act fast,} Aneirin says. {With his unique magic, so different from anything else in this world, he could be a valuable asset. Doubly so if this memory loss affected his brother as well. If we could make them loyal to the crown--to us--we could eliminate the rebellion and rule the kingdom for good. Possibly beyond.}

Magnificent’s eyes flash with ambitious hunger. His grin only grows wider. {…you know out of all the villains we met in the other worlds- you truly were one of my favorites, Aneirin~!} The mad magician purrs. {That sounds like a truly magnificent plan~!} He turns his hungry eyes back towards Alt. 

The glitch trembles with a quick buzz of static and glitches and then tries to bolt to his feet. But, Magnificent is faster, lashing out some of his strings and catching Alt by the foot, making him fall on his face towards the ground. He cackles madly, “Now now kitten! You can’t leave just yet! The fun is just getting started~!”

Aneirin grins as well. He walks over to Alt and crouches down by him. "Come now, Alt. We've reached an agreement and we're willing to get you in on this." The green of his eyes seems to glow as he pushes Aodhan's enchantment power into Alt's mind--mostly making way for Magnificent, since he's sure the magician has more experience in this particular matter. "You may not remember this, but we're here to help you. And your brother as well." 

Alt shakes, fearful tears in his eyes as he tries to back away from the King and Mag. "P-Please I... I don't-" Then, he feels his mind go foggy and he feels himself relax just slightly. His eyebrows knit together in confusion, "...you're... here to... help us...?" He shakes his head and tries to build up magic to try to glitch again, " B-But... the Phantoms they-!" 

Then, Alt's attention is drawn towards the bright spiral of magic building up behind the King, swirling with green and purple. His eyes flash purple again. The fight quickly starts to leave his body. 

Magnificent chuckles, his voice echoing as he increases his influence over Alt's mind. Even if it's missing things... he knows this mind and its weaknesses. "The Phantom Masks lie, Alt. After all... where are they now, hm? They left you here... alone... what kind of friends do that...?" 

Alt's eyes slowly start to glaze over and fill with magic. "...the...phantom masks... lie..." He falls easier than ever, his mind missing his usual safeguards. This is almost too easy~!

"Exactly," Aneirin says, backing up Magnificent's words. "It's not hard to put up a front for the short time you spent with them. Did they tell you why they wear those masks? It's to scare people. The citizens of Glasúil have heard rumors of those frightening specters. Ask anyone about it and they'll tell you the same. The Phantoms spoke of an honorable cause, didn't they? And yet they spread chaos in their wake. Their rebellion destabilizes the kingdom. A kingdom which is doing well without them. A kingdom that is strong without them. And they know what they're doing. Why else would they lie about their intentions to you?"

Alt slumps more and nods hollowly. The Phantoms… they’re bringing rebellion to a kingdom that was fine… they’re putting innocents at risk. That makes his blood boil. But he looks between the King and Mag with a lost look in his eyes, “…what… do I… do then…? I… was gonna… protect people… protect my brother… my friends…”

Aneirin grins. "You help me and Magnificent track down those dangerous rebels. Eliminate them once we've found them. You can protect people by defending the kingdom that way." He pauses. "Of course, we'll find your brother first. And then we'll go after them."

Alt’s eyes glow green at the commands, whispering to himself. “Eliminate… the rebels…” Then the green flickers and he winces, something trying to fight in his quickly emptying head. He groans, almost looking like he might break out of trance. “N…no m’friends…!” 

Magnificent tsks and increases the strength of his hypnotism. He kneels down by Alt, taking him by the chin to force him to look at only the spiral. “You will serve the King, Alt. You are now a noble knight, protecting the kingdom for a good cause. But protecting the King and his trusted allies is your number one goal… the second is finding a way to eliminate any rebel who stands in your way. Anything else left in that empty head of yours is irrelevant. Forget… and focus only on protecting your King. And obeying any command he or I gives you. Do you understand?” 

Alt’s mouth falls slack as the suggestions take hold, his eyes filling with magic again with little resistance. Finally, he breathes out, “Yes mu Ríthe…” Mag blinks a bit in surprise- trying to remember what that meant. Then it clicks, My Kings. He giggles, turning to grin at Aneirin, “Oh I love when they add unexpected things like that! Always such a ego boost~” He laughs and then looks back at Alt,“Very good kitten… now… drift. And let all these commands sink into you and mold you into the knight we need… sleep.., and awaken a loyal knight of Glasúil~!” He snaps and Alt’s eyes roll back as he crumples to the ground. Magnificent teleports to his feet and wipes himself off.

Magnificent teleports to his feet and wipes himself off. He looks at Aneirin cheekily and grins, “Shouldn’t take too long for that to sink in.“ 

Aneirin watches this all with fascination. He wonders if there's some techniques he could adopt. But maybe not. After all, this otherworldly magic is so different from the enchantment in this realm. Magnificent will make a fine ally. If he can handle being just a partner and not the sole contributor. Which... the judge is still out on that. 

Still, he smiles when Magnificent grins at him. "You're quite good at this," he says. 

Magnificent smiles smugly, like a cat trying to strut. “It’s my specialty, Aneirin, darling! Hypnosis and controlling the mind are my bread and butter. You have to know when their minds are empty enough… then you can mold it into whatever you want~!” He chuckles sinisterly. 

"So I suppose we wait. And then... well, I wasn't kidding about finding the other one. His... brother. Those powers would also be helpful.”

At the mention of Bro, Mag nods. “…from what I can remember… whatever I did to the TRVLR affected both of them… their other useless friends seemed unaffected. They shouldn’t cause us much trouble before we find him…” 

"So... there are others with them, then," the King mutters. "Let me guess. Jackie, Jameson, and Henrik. Those seem to make up the rest of this little group. I wonder if that's a pattern across worlds. Five, with one separate."

Magnificent nods with a smirk. “Correct. Those 5 plus some antagonist… isn’t always the same person, either. But, they’re all connected across the universes I’ve seen. An Anti… like Alt. And you. A-“ He winces and gestures at himself. “A Marvin. A Henrik. A Chase. A Jameson. And A Jackie. Always intertwined…”

“Hm… I remember having difficulty with your Chase’s mind before, but if he's similarly afflicted, that would help. I could sense that one's mind if we get close enough, but there's no telling where he went." 

Mag growls. “yes… he’s a difficult one. His head is hard to keep under… hard to mold. But… having Alt already under our thrall will help… if he can’t remember anything… I’m sure their annoying sibling bond is still very much intact. We can use that…” 

Aneirin winces, almost unnoticably. Yes, that annoying sibling bond. How useless. But useful for others. The King pauses, looking at Alt while he lies on the ground. "Hmm... something slightly off with those clothes. Can't quite put my finger on it. He'll need new ones, anyway." As he stares, he notices something else. "Is that... a bracelet with words? I don't recognize the symbols. It's not your alphabet, is it?"

Mag blinks and looks down at Alt. He kneels down again and picks up Alt’s limp wrist, studying the bracelet. Then he grins. “Oh ho… he’s learning so many new tricks~!” He glances at the King and then gestures to the bracelet. “It’s runes…  one of our ancient alphabets of magic. Gaelic, I believe. But, I studied these as a novice too. It’s a tracking bracelet… it will lead its wearer towards others with similar energies.” He grins then, eyes glowing as he touches the stone, watching as it lights up with magic. “…which is how… we can find that poor lost do-gooder~!”

The King stays quiet as Magnificent talks, listening to what he knows. He leans closer, getting a better look at the bracelet. His eyes light up--metaphorically--as the stone starts to glow. "Ooo, a very useful talisman. We have similar ones here, though the, ah, 'roonz' are replaced by plain letters or abstract symbols." He straightens again. "But back to the matter at hand. The others. Even if they are useless, they will probably try to find their friends. We should expect that.”

Mag looks back at the King and scowls before shrugging, “Of course but… I wouldn’t worry too much about the ones from my world. Two of them have been my puppets and are easily controlled. Henrik’s magic is primitive and weak. The other two are powerless. Jackie can fight but- he doesn’t usually pose much of a threat.” He looks down at Alt and nudges his face with his shoe. “…we just need to keep a tight hold on our new knights… and they’ll be putty in our hands.” 

At the touch, Alt’s eyelids flutter and he blinks slowly as his eyes focus. Then, he registers who’s in front of him and in a quick glitch, he’s kneeling on one knee and bowing towards Mag and the King. “M-Mu Ríthe!“ 

Mag blinks in surprise and then giggles, “Oh… I could get used to this~!”

Aneirin flashes a smile at Mag. "It is quite... what was the word you used? An 'ego-boost.'" Magnificent returns the grin with a chuckle. 

The King turns back to Alt. "Good to see you awake again, á klaíoh. Are you ready to serve? Because we have someone to find and we wish to go soon."

Alt doesn’t lift his head as he addresses his king, “Of course, mu Ríth. I’m ready whenever you have need of me.” 

"Excellent. Then stand." The King makes a 'rise' gesture. "We will get you a proper uniform and then start our search." 

Alt rises to attention and nods, “Yes, mu Ríth.” 

The King glances at the warriors still nearby. {No need to remember this,} he tells them. And now, as soon as the group leaves the courtyard, the warriors will forget this even happened.

Magnificent takes this time to get back into his clothes from his last visit as well, taking time to smooth down the fabric. He grins madly, “Well… this is gonna be a whole lot of fun~!” 

"It certainly is." Aneirin matches Magnificent's grin with a more subdued--but no less mad--version of his own. "Now let's be quick. I assume the tracking bracelet's glow means the other one is nearby."

Magnificent nods and then looks at Alt. “Alt, is there a seeking word for your talisman? If so, use it now.” 

Alt’s eyes pulse green and then he touches the stone on his bracelet and speaks “Loonu” The bracelet pulses too and then wisps of green-blue magic start to appear in the air, popping up like a path towards the nearest matching energy. 

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

Bro’s fall into Glasúil was anything but pleasant. Everything is a confusing, painful blur of fuzzy images and broken glass. It feels like it’s rearranging everything in his head. As he crashes to the ground, his body glitches and contorts, eyes wide and glitching with purple as he’s rewritten by the corrupted magic in his veins. He vaguely remembers gasping and yelling. But, soon enough that starts to fade away into the fog. 

But- he vaguely remembers he’s… looking… looking for people. For someone… they’re… important. That’s the only solid thought in his head as he lifts his head up from the coarse wet sand sticking to him. His dull eyes try to take in the sights around him, weakly pushing himself up. “Where… am I…?” 

He's on the shore of a large body of water. There's a distant shore barely in sight, but judging by the curve of this shore he's on an island. To his back, it's crowded with wood and stone buildings. Surrounding him is sand and reeds that vary in size from knee-height to waist-height. Extending onto the water are wooden walkways and floating buildings. Farther, close enough that he can see it clearly but still a bit of a walk away, there is a wooden dock with some attached wooden buildings. A cobblestone roads leads from it off into the surrounding fields. There are... people over by the dock and buildings. He can see them, the distance making them small enough to hide behind his hand. 

Bro takes in all the information around him with a bit of panic. He looks down at his clothes and they feel… off. Why? What was happening? Where he is? Why can’t.., why can’t be remember anything?! He chokes down a panicked breath and tries to breathe, just… gather your thoughts Chase… what do you know? 

…he’s in the land of Glasúil… and considering he’s near a lake… is he near Suilthair…? He… can’t remember if he’s been before… And he knows… his brother. Alt. Anti… the one he’s always out to protect. And last he remembers… was his little brother screaming in pain. 

With this in mind, he staggers up to his feet and makes his way towards the nearest cluster of people. Maybe they’ve seen him! And… and his friends. Yeah… he also needs to find them. The… the Masked Phantoms. He must look like a crusty mess but still he trudges over, occasionally pausing to groan in slight pain as an intense headache attacks his head. But he can push it off. He’s… Bro Fantastic he’s a… a super hero …he’s a warrior. He can handle anything thrown at him. 

As he nears the docks he calls out towards them, “Hwaet!!” He then waves his arm to get their attention as he continues closer. 

The people near the docks are scattered into disparate groups. Some of them turn when he calls out, some of them don't. Everyone is dressed differently, and everyone has bags or boxes of some sort with them. Ah. They're all waiting. Probably to board a boat of some kind, judging by the docks. There are also a pair of warriors leaning by the doorway. They look relaxed, chatting with each other, expressions calm. The nearest group is made of an older man and three younger people who all look alike enough to be related. Two of these group--a young woman and one who looks pretty androgynous--walk over to him. 

"Aan bhfuil tu kear leori?" the woman asks. Something that Bro instinctively knows means "Are you alright?" 

"Did you fall in the lake?" her companion adds. 

Bro meets the others and attempts to smile, “Ah… dia duhui…” He greets. He brushes off some of the sand and shakes it out of his hair. “Nearly… lucky I didn’t fall in head first…” He then looks at the two in front of him and tries to find his focus. “oh but um… I’m looking for someone… my brother. He looks like me but- a lot shorter! And he has some green in his eyes- and… he- oh! He has a white cat mask on- with like… stripes on it. Have… you seen anyone like that?”

"A white animal mask?" the woman repeats. "Like those destructive spirits?" 

The other person rolls their eyes. "Those spirits aren't real, Lila." 

"I don't understand how you can still say that!" The woman--Lila--repeats. "After what we heard in the Leonbhar claim?" 

"They're probably just people causing chaos." 

Lila sighs and turns back to Chase. "Don't listen to Senan, they don't know what they're talking about. But no, we haven't seen anyone like that. Maybe he took the earlier ferry?"

Bro blinks in confusion, “Destructive spirits…?” He asks quietly. “…is that how you all… think about the phantoms?” 

"Phantoms...?" Senan repeats, confused. 

Bro knits his eyebrows together, trying to sort through his thoughts. Could the phantoms really be causing that much trouble…? 

Bu he’s shook out of his thoughts by Lila’s second question. He tries to smile, “maybe… but I don’t think he’d tried to leave the island without finding me first… guess I gotta… just keep looking around!” 

Senan shrugs off their confusion. "Yes, of course, I'm sure you'll find him. Maybe you can ask some of the local warriors. They keep an eye on things around here, maybe one of them saw your brother."

Chase glances at the warriors and gets an uneasy feeling. Guards… probably aren’t the safest thing for him to go towards right now. Even if… he’s missing his mask. He nods his head and smiles politely, “yeah! Of course- well, thank you for your help!” He waves to them and then starts heading further away from that beach. 

Lila frowns, confused, but she and Senan wave goodbye anyway. 

As Chase heads away from the beach and further into the city, it seems like avoiding guards is going to be harder to do than he thought. He can't go two minutes without seeing them, usually in pairs or trios, walking along the streets. Patrolling. The people don't react to them, merely going around them as if this is completely normal. Or... they don't usually react. 

Chase watches the guards warily- as if he’s expected to be recognized. But… huh. Guess he’s managing to somewhat fit in. Where could Alt be…? And the others…? Bro glances at the bracelet on his wrist and perks up, going to study it. Oh… but- fuck! He forgot the word he’s supposed to use… man. If only he could fly-

As Chase pauses to look at the bracelet, another pair of warriors turn the corner. These ones wear helmets. And this time, the cityfolk glance at them uneasily, seeming to speed up their business by just a bit.

Chase notices and feels the change in atmosphere and notices the helmeted guards. Those… seem like very bad news. He glances around quickly to see if he can hide anywhere- he’s just hoping he’s fast-! But as he thinks this, his body seems to react and in a blink- he’s zipped into the spaces between two buildings. He blinks slowly then looks at the lingering energy pulsing in his veins. “Cadé aan… sailile…?”

He doesn't have too long to dwell on it, though. The helmeted warriors continue down the street, glancing into every alleyway as they go.

Bro gasps and stumbles back as he hears the clanging of their weapons and chain mail, trying to see if he can find a way to blend into the shadows.

They pass by the alleyway. One of them glances inside and starts to walk past, but then stops. They nudge their companion, who turns and looks. They nod. "You there!" they call, obviously spotting Chase. "Identify yourself."

Chase stiffens and then swallows thickly, “Um… Chase son of… Kieran-“ He then seems to stiffen slightly as his eyes just slightly flicker with purple. “I mean uh… son of b…Brody, sir.�� 

The warrior nods again. "The King has business with you," they say. "Come with us."

Chase’s stomach drops, “T-The King?!” He starts to back up more, panicking. “w-what does he want with me?! I- I’m no one special!”

"We do not ask questions of His Majesty," the other guard says. "And a summons is not a request. If you do not comply we will use force."

Chase might not know much right now… but he knows for sure he does not want to be brought to the King. Every muscle in his body screams this. He glances briefly as the bright blue still pulsing weakly in his veins. …he doesn’t understand what magic this is… but desperate times! Relying on instinct, Chase lashes out a hand, points a finger at the guards- and a volt of blue lighting zaps out of his finger. He takes a moment to look at this in surprise- but then he quickly scrambles backwards and starts to book it down the alley.

One of the warriors gets hit by the lightning and knocks back into the other one. They tumble to the ground but they're up again quickly, running after Chase, shouting at him to stop. 

When Chase bursts out of the alley he's in the next street over. People turn and stare at him as he rushes past, jumping out of his way when they see who's pursuing him. There are also two non-helmeted warriors on this street. They look very surprised, almost too stunned to move even when one of the helmeted ones shouts at them to help. Not that the helmeted warriors need the help. They're gaining quickly. 

Chase is cursing over and over in his head. Fucking Alt! Where is he?! Where are the others?! Why is he being chased when he can’t remember shit?! He serpentines through people and things on the street- trying to get as much distance as he can between himself and the warriors. The warriors are fast… but he feels pretty fast too.

And fast he is. As the chase continues, he slowly pulls ahead, zigzagging through the streets at random. Getting deeper and deeper into the city. People keep jumping out of the way but they literally cannot move fast enough. Thank god that he's very good at dodging around them. A stone wall grows closer, palace towers looming higher.

Part of him wonders how he got so good at running and dodging. The other part of him assumes it’s from being with the Phantoms. They had to do this regularly, huh? …well- s’not like he can remember anyways. 

Chase zips down another corner and then blinks in surprise as he sees… a blue green wisp of magic. …that seems very familiar. Before he can chase that thought, something suddenly appears in front of him like a fuzzy bolt of green lightning. And a seax is held at his throat, two burning green eyes glaring at him. 

The two Brody brothers stare at each other for a second before Alt starts to lower the blade. “Chase…?” 

Chase looks relieved for a second, “Alt!” Then he stiffens and is about to grab Alt to run again when he pauses and takes in his little brother properly. “…what in Elders name are you wearing?!” 

Alt straightens, showing that he’s now dressed in a long black tunic, the king’s crest stark on his chest. His phantom mask isn’t anywhere on him. It feels… strange to see him without a mask. Didn’t he always have one? “Chase-“ Alt says softly, holding up a hand as he sheathes the seax. “just… try to breathe. I know you must be feeling confused right now…” 

“Hells yeah I’m confused!” Bro shouts, “Why are you dressed like you’re a Kings’ warrior?!” 

The helmeted warriors behind him skid to a halt, suddenly seeming unsure. And then they both stiffen and bow their heads... as a man in a green cloak and golden circlet rounds the corner of the street. "Ah." His green eyes light up and there's a flash of a smile before his expression falls again. "Just barely out of range. Of course," he whispers, just low enough for himself and Mag. Then he raises his voice to a more audible volume. "Hello, Chase. Good to see you again, it's been a while. Have you forgotten as much as your brother? You must have... otherwise this wouldn't have been a surprise."

Chase startles as he turns to see the King walking up to him… and Magnificent. “What… what is happening…?” He whispers with wide eyes. 

Magnificent chuckles and smirks at Bro, “Well Mr. Brody… it’s so rare to see you get cornered, isn’t it?” 

Chase fumbles for anything to say. “What… what did you do to Alt?” He finally growls out, blue light shimmering in his eyes. 

“Chase please just- let us explain!” Alt tries to say, grabbing onto his arm. 

But Chase rips himself away and stumbles back. “no! You’re… you’re betraying our friends Alt! The- the Phantoms-“ 

“The Phantoms are the problem, Chase!” Alt snaps, “The King and Magnificent want to help us… they helped me remember- they can help you too!” 

Mag rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue at the King to show his disgust. Then he sighs dramatically and snaps his fingers, “Enough of the drama- Alt, secure your brother in place, won’t you?”

Alt stiffens, his eyes flashing green. Then he grabs both of Bro’s arms and yanks them hard behind his back and holds them. “Yes, my Liege.” 

Bro cries out and tries to fight his way out of Alt’s grip. “N-No! Alt stop it!” He glares at Mag and the King, baring his teeth. “W-Whatever you’re planning…! O-Our friends will find us- they’ll stop you! Both of you!”

Magnificent giggles and strides over to Bro with a shit-eating grin. “Ain’t that sweet… such a pity though, seeing as you can’t even remember them properly~!” He then snaps and magic blooms behind him and the King, “And we’re gonna keep it that way.” 

The King smirks. "Don't worry, Chase. It won't take long for you to realize your mistakes. We won't hold it against you." He reaches out mentally, clearing the way for Mag. "It's possible to get swept up in a so-called righteous cause. But let us show you the truth now. The truth of where your loyalties should truly lie."

Chase struggles and tries to fight, but his brain is already so scrambled from the memory loss. The King can feel a bit of resistance in Chase’s mind… like an injury messed with the pathways that are usually easier to navigate. But, soon enough the magic fills up his eyes and he slumps slightly, looking up at the King and Mag in a daze. “Where my… loyalties… lie…” he whispers, Mag’s magic digging into his rewritten, open mind. 

Magnificent laughs, this does feel easier than it usually does! Maybe it’ll actually stick… but if it doesn’t. He has a plan. “Yes Chase… the Phantoms have lied to you. You’ve heard it recently haven’t you? They cause nothing but chaos and destruction. A hero like you… a warrior like you… would never align himself with such people, right? You pride yourself in protecting the innocent.” Mag tries not to let his disgust show at saying that. “The kingdom protects far better than the Phantoms ever could… you’ve been deceived, Chase.” 

The magic flickers in Chase’s eyes before growing brighter as his expression gets blanker. He tries to shake his head but… the logic seems so sound. …how was he so blind to it all…? Has he been protecting the wrong people…?

“Yes, Chase, you were on the wrong side,” the King says, reinforcing this way of thinking as Magnificent’s magic sinks in. “But you can make up for it now. Just like your brother. The two of you can help save the kingdom from these threats… if you only remember where you’re supposed to be. By my side, and Magnificent’s. Being the loyal warrior you were always meant to become.”

Green light swells to consume the color in Chase’s eyes as he numbly nods. “…a loyal warrior…” He breathes. 

Magnificent grins, triumphant. Now- to properly mold him~! “Very good Chase… now. You don’t need to remember anything else but your loyalty to the crown. The Masked Phantoms and any other rebels are your enemies. They must be eliminated. You exist to serve the King, a loyal knight. Just like your brother.” 

Chase slumps more, the magic getting brighter. But, then it flickers slightly as his face scrunches up- trying to fight. 

Magnificent growls and goes to grab Chase’s chin, pressing his face close as magic swirls in his eyes. “And… know this, Chase Brody. I know your tendency to rebel… but if you try- if you don’t obey the commands I or the King give you… your baby brother will suffer. I will hurt him. And you don’t want that… right?” 

Chase stiffens and lets out a hurried, breathy, “N-No!” 

The magic increases its pressure- so much so that Bro’s head lolls back limply as Magnificent laughs, “Good answer… then let this all sink in, knight. Be molded into the perfect warrior of Glasúil. And when you awaken, you will know your purpose and be ready to serve. Understand?” 

“Y-Yes… my liege.” 

Magnificent grins wide and then snaps, and Chase slumps completely, falling forward with his head hung. Alt drops him stoically, as if he doesn’t care or even recognize him. 

Magnificent purrs at the sight, “Mmmm… hopefully that sticks. This one is always tricky to keep down… so ironic, considering his brother is my best puppet~!” 

“It’s always strange with families,” Aneirin agrees. “It’s never clear what gifts will pass to who.” He pauses for a moment, looking around to make sure no one saw what just happened. No, this is a thankfully empty part of the city. The warriors who were chasing Chase are still nearby, but he easily dismisses them, wiping the encounter from their minds. “For example, take my oracle. Did I tell you about him last time? I can’t recall. But I used to… employ an oracle, before he ran off with the rebels. No one in that family had the sight before, and yet there he was. Not to mention the way powers fade in bloodlines before suddenly returning.” He sighs just remembering the wait for another enchanter Royal. “In any case, clever thinking there. Now… now we can hunt those rebels down.” His eyes flash with anger. “I was planning on going soon. Some were in this city recently and I believe I know which way they went. Best to move quick before they get too far, I thought.”

Magnificent nods, “Magic always works in strange ways.” He comments. Then, his eyes flash hungrily and he grins. “An excellent idea… having these two to tear the rebels down~! Oh it’ll be such a beautiful sight to see! So much betrayal and drama!” He giggles. 

Aneirin smiles. “It truly will be a sight, won’t it?” Though he does not look forward to the drama in the way Magnificent does, he can’t pretend it won’t be satisfying. 

Mag then gestures for Alt to come over. He grabs the glitch’s wrist and green lines cover over his purple marks. He nods- now he had a way to make sure they kept Bro on a short leash. He then whistles and snaps, looking back at Chase. “Rise and shine, Brody! We got rebels to find~!” 

Chase groggily groans for a second, his eyelids fluttering. But then he stiffens, his eyes flashing green. Then he pulls himself up and bends over at the middle, arm pressed to his stomach to bow to the King and Mag. “Yes, my lords.” He looks up with determination and fire in his eyes. 

Alt shakes out of his light trance and smiles a bit with determination too, the air sparking with his magic. 

As Chase and Alt shake out of their trances, the King turns to them. “Prepare for travel, á klaíohe. Once you are armed and ready we will leave the city.” 

Chase nods and bows properly to the King, “Of course, mu Ríth.” 

The King turns back to Magnificent. “It’s early in the day so we can take advantage of the daylight to travel far. I’ll gather some of my special forces as well—” Then he suddenly winces. “Damn, I almost forgot I need to appoint a regent. How I wish my range of influence was greater. Ah, I’ll just leave it to Thalia. That will help secure more loyalty.” He nods, satisfied. “We will be able to leave quickly.”

Magnificent grins, “Ah excellent… I can’t wait to see the look on my puppets’ faces~!” Then he processes and tilts his head at the King, “Ah your telepathy is limited… interesting. I definitely need to be close but- once a link is made I have pretty good control. Then again- I don’t let them travel farther than our city so…” He shrugs. “We’ll see! But- sounds like we have a lot of preparations to make!” 

"It covers the city, but yes, we will be going too far for it to stay," Aneirin clarifies. Then he smiles. "Yes, there are some preparation, but we will be going soon." He turns around. "Follow me. We reconvene at the castle and then head out." 

He can't wait to smother those rebellious spirits once and for all. They know the truth about him. 

Word cannot spread.

[therummesoccupied]

IDW'S SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, ISSUE #70 - THOUGHTS

Keeping with standard Review!Tay tradition, I'm very late to the party again, but at least this time the new issue doesn't come out tomorrow, so I'll take the wins where I can get 'em.

You've likely heard by now, but this issue was really, really good. Like, I'm not sure I even could find anything to complain about, even if I'd wanted to. Every single aspect is thoroughly on point. The closest thing I could even fathom to complaint is that I don't really care for Sonic Riders, so this arc had to kind of win me over, but even that was accomplished early in the previous issue.

And just like last issue, the first thing that really had me in this one's corner was the art. I've already spoken at length about how much I adore Min Ho Kim's and Aaron Hammerstrom's pencils, and with the phenomenal showing from Kim in Issue #69 (nice), Hammerstrom has absolutely followed up.

Keeping true to his Uekawa-inspired style, his art manages to drive the intensity and motion of the high-speed scenes, while also utilizing strong character design elements and posing to really sell certain panels. He even gives us some real Henshin shit out of Sonic here.

The writing also continues to entirely slam in this issue. I think I remember Evan Stanley once talking about her reputation for writing fluffy, low-stakes, side stories, and seeking to show how well she can handle action and drama, and I'm really glad to say she totally pulls it off here. The action never feels dull or slow, and the characters all feel active and driven.

Speaking of the characters, this issue might have the strongest character writing in the entire comic, hands-down. It's been said by other IDW Sonic aficionados before, but every single character gets something to do here - something that matters to that character specifically.

We get Sonic as the Phantom Rider, which I absolutely love. I said last time that I like Sonic occasionally displaying some roguish behavior, letting the noble, heroic persona down for a bit and being the daredevil showoff the series sells him as. He spends the entire issue daring the authorities in charge of the race to do something about him, and doing everything in his power to piss Jet off. Sneering in the face of power and taunting his opponents until they're red in the face is what Sonic does!

And it's not even like he's being a total asshole here.

Like, people get to be in danger, and he still helps, but like. Even then he tries to hide that he's doing it. It's Good! This is peak Sonic!

Surge gets some interesting stuff here, chasing off the Phantom Rider and being met with unexpected praise and applause. This is a really neat angle to play for her, because she was kind of built to crave Hero Worship by Starline, and she is the way she is partly because, when she was working under Starline, every single thing she did was met exclusively with negative reinforcement - a reflection of Starline's time spent working under Eggman. It's kind of neat that Eggman's treatment of Starline continues causing him problems long after Starline's death like this.

Then there's Jet:

And Jet gets to be all pouty because, not only did the Phantom Rider steal his spotlight during the race, but now Surge is stealing the spotlight after the fact, despite the fact that he won! This seems to be setting up a budding rivalry between Surge and Jet, which was a story beat I had never considered. I'd always wanted to see what Surge would do confronted with another one of Sonic's rivals like Knuckles or Shadow, but seeing it happen with Jet, somebody with an ego to match her own, is really cool. Also they're both green. They're the only two Sonic "rivals" outside of Metal Sonic that haven't experienced some form of heel-face turn, and remain pretty explicitly bad, or at best neutral, guys. And they're greeeeeen.

Our big bad, Clutch, treats the whole thing with relative unease, but I like how calmly he approaches it. Once more, he plays this manipulative businessman villain archetype really well, keeping his cards close to his chest until he knows what he's dealing with. He also sends Mimic after the Phantom Rider, which has some really cool implications.

It's entirely possible that Mimic and Sonic are on their way toward some form of confrontation, which I said last time would be a really neat dynamic to explore since they've never really met, and neither is the kind of opponent the other typically deals with. But more than that, with Mimic being under specific orders to quietly unmask Sonic, I could see things playing out so that they learn of one anothers' identities, with neither being able to blow the other's cover for risk of blowing their own.

I could even see this breaking really bad for Sonic if he even tries to expose Duo as Mimic, as Silver tried to do that once before and was not only seemingly proven wrong, but also had the trust the other Diamond Cutters had in him entirely shattered, while their trust in Duo was only strengthened. Sonic is already putting a lot of good will on the line with his Phantom Rider antics, if he ends up falling for the same game as Silver, it's possible he could not only ruin the faith the Diamond Cutters or the Restoration have in him, but in the image he has with the world at large.

Not that I'm entirely certain he'd care, mind you. Sonic has already shown in stuff like SA2 or Black Knight that he doesn't really care if he's in trouble with authority or if not everyone sees him as a hero. He just does what he thinks is right and that's good enough for him. So who knows?

The Diamond Cutters are a little less present in this issue, mostly trying to bring down the Phantom Rider, but there is one subtle little bit of storytelling I really like here.

Lanolin, attempting to corner the Phantom Rider, knocks him into one of the course's glass tunnels, which shatters with the added weight of Clean Sweep's security crew, putting the racers inside at risk. The expression on her face and the small "no..." seem to reflect a bit of horror at realizing that her actions have directly put people in danger. A lot of folks have been hoping for Lanolin to face some kind of reckoning over her decisions as a leader, and while I really like Lanolin as a character, I think it would be interesting for this, and the eventual reveal of Duo, to really shake her faith in her skills and make her reevaluate her approach.

In addition to the Diamond Cutters themselves, we get a real quick bit with Jewel here:

Ever since Sonic and co. were disqualified from the tournament, Jewel has been trying to reach out to them to check in, but Duo, who appears to still be acting as her assistant - yikes - tells her over and over that he's tried every means of communication (which is, of course, a lie), and that he's had no luck getting in touch.

And here, we see our first little bit of someone within the Restoration having their doubts about Duo. I don't know what tipped her off - she seemed just as invested in him as anyone after the incident with Silver - but it's clear she doesn't buy everything he's saying here. She knows something's up. The question is: What will she do about it? What can she do? As Clutch pointed out last issue, she's got a lot of eyes on her. She's not an action-hero like Sonic or the Diamond Cutters. She's an organizer. But in this respect, she works as a perfect heroic foil to Clutch, who does not boast any special abilities of his own, just a diligent mind and a willingness to follow carefully laid plains with a subtle demeanor.

Lastly, we get a bit of Amy and Tails sneaking around the Restoration shuttle.

While Tails gets some nice bits here - namely a neat little nod to Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog with his dumpster diving - Amy is really the one with the best display here.

Amy has spent so much of IDW, and really a lot of recent Sonic media, being the collected one. The beacon of normalcy in a rag-tag group of child prodigies and daredevil speedsters. While she fills this role well, it also leaves her somewhat meandering for things to do in terms of character dynamics. There was a time when Amy had a hot-headed attitude to rival Sonic and Knuckles. She was a bit reactionary, and it gave her some neat character quirks.

There's a balance to be struck between these two extremes, but I think we're finally nailing it down with this arc. With Amy knowing her way around the shuttle after her time spent there during the Metal Virus, but then excitedly dragging Tails along, grimacing at his ruffling through the trash, shrieking with terror as a weird robot hand grabs onto her face, and barking in anger as she realizes whose hand it was, I get the sense that we have the real Amy here again!

Yeah, she's still "the normal one" (kinda, they've been playing up her ridiculous strength again lately as well), but she also has the spark that made her chase after Sonic on his adventures in the first place. I really like her here!

So, once again, this arc (Extreme Competition, as its been named in the TPBs) leaves me thoroughly impressed in way that I did not expect from a Sonic Riders-centric arc. This is some of the most on-brand Sonic writing with some of the most accurate art I've ever seen. It seems to me that, after all this time of IDW being good but not quite hitting the mark for a lot of fans, the series is finally hitting its stride. I remain excited to see what comes next, and hopeful that there's still lots, lots more to come after this arc wraps up.

One other thing to mention: It was revealed in the Fan Letters section at the end of the issue that there is currently an IDW Sonic crossover in the works:

Now, speculation has been rampant about what this crossover could be - TMNT, Transformers, MLP, even DBZ with the recently-announced TMNT/Naruto crossover setting a precedent for anime/manga crossovers - but I'm throwing my hopes and dreams behind what appears to be the popular theory: Godzilla.

It makes sense. Godzilla and Sonic are both properties IDW currently has the comics rights to, both owned by Japanese companies. Godzilla fits the notion of a "BIG threat" to Sonic and co., both in terms of size as well as the implication that the figure crossing over will serve some form of antagonistic role. Godzilla even works relatively well within a Sonic storyline, and Sonic is no stranger to kaiju fights. It'd be very easy to do a story about Eggman trying to awaken/control some kind of ancient, powerful creature, only to reveal that said creature is Godzilla, over whom Eggman swiftly loses control, and Sonic and friends have to find a way to stop his rampage and return him to his proper place.

Honestly, they could make it a canon story if they wanted to. Hell they should make it a canon story! I love Godzilla!! Make him canon to Sonic!!! FOR ME SPECIFICALLY.

Time will tell what the big crossover is, and where the comic will go next, and I'll be sure to be fashionably late with my review.

Till then, thanks for reading!