#actual plot ocurred as well these are just the important parts

[staggeringsmite]

anyway today on the wandering isles we had yet another 10+ minute long hug, uncomfortable displays of motherly love (as in, proper communication and affection are foreign to them), everyone is the "this might as well happen" john mulaney bit, and graham kyle grass was born (our druid's graham cracker-mushroom-son-familiar who doesn't actually help him). also this was the first time the whole party met ✨

[duhragonball]

Plot Holes

I really haven’t known what to write about on here lately.   Part of the trouble with that is that if I go too long without writing out my thoughts, I start to get ansty, and mull over the same topic over and over.    So I’d like to take this time to off-load some stray observations about Star Trek: The Next Generation, and why I shouldn’t be too hard on my own writing.   

I’ve been getting recommendations on YouTube for clips from the episode “Chain of Command Part I.”   Part II is the one where Picard gets tortured by David Warner while they argue about interior lighting, and it’s probably one of the best episodes of the whole series.   Part I sets up how Picard got captured in the first place, and one of those dominoes is a new captain, Ed Jellico, who fills in for him while he goes on a secret mission.    Jellico always interested me, because his whole arc is about how he doesn’t get along well with the other characters.   You’re supposed to think he’s a real dick, mostly because he’s not too hot about Commander Riker as a first officer, but the episode doesn’t really succeed in getting that across.   He orders all these big changes to the ship and crew, and expects everything to get done within two days, but he’s got good reasons for all of it, and... he’s the captain now.    Riker accuses him of wanting to “control everything and everyone”, but that’s literally the captain’s job?  Besides, by the end of Part II, all of Jellico’s decisions seem to pay off.   He foils an invasion and saves Captain Picard.   I don’t know why he needed a four-shift crew rotation to pull that off, but he made Troi wear science blue so it’s worth it. Jellico’s a good dude in my book.   

So I rewatched the whole two-parter this week, because the thing I couldn’t remember was why the Cardassians captured Picard in the first place.    His mission led him into a trap, and it’s all part of this byzantine plot to interrogate him about the Federations defenses of a planet that they want to conquer.  Jellico realizes this when he tries to figure out why they went to so much trouble to capture one specific guy, and he recalls that the Enterprise would be the lead ship in the sector if there was ever an invasion.   So the Cardassians assumed that Picard would have knowledge of how the sector would be defended, and if they could force him to reveal that information, they could win easily.   

Except Picard doesn’t know those supposed defense plans.    At least, he says he doesn’t know, and Part II seems to suggest that the guy torturing him doesn’t even care.  He just wants to break Picard for the sake of it, and things look bad for Picard because he can’t betray the Federation even if he wanted to.   

I’m left with two possible interpreations here.   One is that Picard genuinely had no idea what the defense plans would be, and the Cardassians just pulled a boner by going to all that trouble based on a reasonable guess.   If that’s true, then how would that have worked?    Would Picard only get those defense plans until the moment an invasion ocurred?    Or is the “plan” just to let him figure it out as he goes?    That’s basically what Jellico does in his stead.   He figures out the enemy fleet is hiding in a nebula, so he fills it with mines and forces them to leave. 

The alternative is that Picard really did know those defense plans, and he just denied it so convincingly that it’s taken me 28 years to consider the possibility.  That adds a new layer to the ending, where he admits to Troi that he very nearly did break, and it just so happened that he was released in the nick of time.   So maybe he might have actually given up some important secrets if his ordeal had gone on any longer.   But how did he resist their truth serum, then?

The other thing that struck me about “Chain of Command” is how much it resembles “Best of Both Worlds”, in the sense that an invading enemy does terrible things to Captain Picard in order to get an edge against the Federation.   There’s some important differences, but I think I’d feel a little self-conscious if I had written both stories, like the second one is redundant.    I don’t think anyone has ever levelled this critique against the show, though.   Maybe if they aired back-to-back instead of two seasons apart.    As it is, it’s just One Of Those Things.   

I see plot holes in other episodes a lot.    For example, in “The Pegasus”, Admiral Pressman is trying to salvage a secret and illegal cloaking device, and so he won’t tell the Enterprise crew what he’s after, and the only other person who knows is Riker, so he orders him to keep it under wraps.    Pressman’s plan is to use the cloaking technology to get an edge against the Romulans, even though the Federation agreed to never use or develop cloaking devices in a treaty.    So yeah, he really doesn’t want Captain Picard to find out, except that he would have to tell Picard about this eventually, right?    Sooner or later, his plan would involve putting cloaking devices on every ship in the fleet, so everyone in Starfleet would have to be told about it.    Maybe he figured he could sell his superiors on the idea later on, but it still seems fishy to me.    Then again, it suits Pressman’s character that he’s too obsessed with his plan to consider all the contingencies.  

I just watched “The Next Phase” today, because that one’s always bugged me, because Geordi and Ro spend most of the episode in an invisible, intangible state.   They can see and hear and touch each other, but no one else, thanks to a transporter accident involving another experimental cloaking device.   Except they can’t fall through the decks of whatever ship they’re on, and they can still breathe.   So shouldn’t Geordi be able to get someone’s attention by stomping on the deck until someone hears the noise?   Wouldn’t the ship’s life support system notice that more people are breathing than there are on board?   But the episode is just too damn good for me to care for very long.   Ro thinks they’re ghosts, and Geordi might agree with her except he’s a cyborg and he’s pretty sure you don’t take your prosthetics with you when you die.    It’s this neat interplay involving faith.   Ro never believed in the afterlife until now, and Geordi is convinced that he and the crew can still save each other.

The main moral I run into here is that it doesn’t have to be this airtight thing.   I’ll write things and feel like they don’t work because they feel like retreads of things I’ve done before, but sometimes that’s okay.    Sometimes it’s a theme, or a motif, or a refrain or whatever.   It doesn’t always have to be a matter of not being creative enough or original enough.    Sometimes things need to be repeated for emphasis.     And sometimes things are de-emphasized, to the point where inconsistencies may not get addressed.   A lot of times, the villain’s plan may seem extremely short-sighted or half-baked, precisely because it’s doomed to fail early on, so it really doesn’t matter how it would have held up in the long term.   That kind of thing.  

And if it’s okay for TNG to do it, then it shouldn’t be a big deal when I do it, so that’s what I need to remind myself of here.

[jack-o-wolf]

Prologue.

 “Behind the curtain, beyond the wrong door

lonely and silent he sits

and reads in an old book

his own story.” –Manuel de Castro.

 I can’t imagine a better way to describe the encounter that I planned in order to meet a young man who...how to describe him...lived a mediocre life, without anything worth of tales left alone notes. I know it sounds arrongant, contradictory even, but I garantee, my dear living, that this youth has created, like very few have, a world so fantastic that has made them imortals and whose names are worthy of being studied and discussed.

Forgive me dear reader for in my excitment of writing this narrative that was entrusted to me by this young man, whose name has no importance, is so great that I’ve forgotten to give you my name...although after I tell you about this encounter with the boy you will know who I am. So let’s begin:

Just another day of routine in the mediocre life of this dreamer, going to school to prepare to his bright  and planned future traced by himself after choosing his career. Leaving his house, he found himself not at the street like it was supoused to lead, but at a big and luxurious amphitheater.

In front of him, there were rows organized as a half-circle, so that all the audience would be able to see the acts that would be performed to cause horror, laughter, despair, sadness and all emotions that you humans mistify so much and try to recreate in words. Each one of the seats was adorned with carvings that ressembled small serpents that shared the same origin, from behind the head to whoever ocuppied the seat. Turning himself towards the back of the stage, he noticed that the red as blood curtain, always open during the shows to display the scenery of a love declaration or a great battle or even a long argument about any subject would be held, that even if completly boring still atracted the attention of humans in a almost vilanous way, such curtain was closed as if the show was still being prepared.

Surprisingly calm, I dare say terrifingly calm, for any other that saw him or herself in this situation would try to understand what was happening, or try to find someone to come for their aid or even look for the dor that originally led them to such a place – I say this from experience, since I’ve seen others follow the patern just described, the boys reaction increased my interest in the Young one. – he calmly walked towards the velvet curtain soft to the touch. As he walked, not one of the planks made a crank, wich indicated that either the place was well preserved or recently build, although the smell hinted to thenplace never being cleaned or used.

Behind the closed curtains there was a door with a golden star with a big “W” engraved in it, maybe it stood for wigs, but if the reader payed attention to the poem at the begining you’ll know what it stands for. The door was barely open, so just a touch from the boys hand was enough to make it open completly. Beyond it, sat an old figure with a dark and bitter face, but not a face of regret but of disbelief before the helplessness of the situation it found itself in.

In his hands he held a thin book with pages marked by time, even if the book itself did not look but a few months old. This figure was no other than the one who speaks with you now, I pretended to read the book and ignore his presence, so that I could see what other surprises he would give me. As if the situation didn’t bother him, he aproched me and said:

–Have thy come to take my life, old lady?

The shock of how calmly he asked and the question itself was so great that I feared he had seen through my disguise, so I couldn’t resfrain myself from saying:

–Don’t call me “old” boy, I’ve no interest in collecting your thread, but your courage and cunning surprises me. What gave me away?

–Nothing. – he answered with the smile of a child that maneged to get what it wanted. – Just a guess based out all the cliches that you presented to me...

–Cliches?! – I answered revealing the true sound of my voice.

–You used a poem written by Manuel Costa as a base and then added a few touches that contradicted reality and appearence. And the used the one tool that all fear when readding that excert: the possibility that the figure readding its own story being the lyrical self seeing himself in the future, the form you chose to manifest is me in the future, right?

–HAHAHA! You’re not very sane are you? You talk to “undesired of people”, “the one certainty we have in life” as if you’re talking to an equal!

–Just as you said  you’re the one thing that we’re certain, so why should I treat you any different?

–If everyone saw me the way you and rare others see me, my work would be much more simple... – I had just noticed that I was talking with him as if I was talking with an old friend that I hadn’t seen in a long while.

–But...if you didn’t come to take me, what do you want with me? – he asked with curiosity and not a hint of fear.

–Ah, yes...– he brought me back to the motive that made me bring him to that realm between worlds. – ...its about your book.

–You mean the one you were reading with no interest at all? What’s with it? – he inquired with even greater curiosity. – Taking into account that I’ve already planned practly everything, I don’t know what could be wrong.

–Well, you must have already noticed that the life of every individual is written down in a book with the characteriscs of it’s author...

–In my case I look like a old man inside, so that’s why the pages look so old?

–No, in your case is just as you said: “I’ve already planned practly everything” so the book is finished and is already starting to age...

–...I understand.

–...as I was saying, every living being has it’s own book, but some special individuals have more tha one book under it’s name while alive.

–How is that possible? One cannot live more than one life at a time, even those who suffer from mental disorder only live once, no matter how many delusions manifest themselves. – his eyes were brimming with curiosity before my revelation.

–You know the poem I’ve used as an inspiration to build this place  so you must know some of these books as well...

–What boo-...

He didn’t manage to finish that sentence due to his surprise before the library that now occupied the once empty room. Books from every being that lives and has lived alined and organized in alphabetic order, also put in groups according to how long they lived. After he regained his composure, without hidding his marvel with all the stories that sorrounded him, I procceded:

–...I know it’s amazing to be before so many lives and legendary names, but know that the second book to wich I reffer are these. – I’ve said as I pointed to books created by famed writters who instigated the imagination of those who really read them. – You mus know some of them, like “Senhora” by José Alencar or if you preffer someone more of your time like Tolkien or Rafael Dracon, do you know what they have in comon?

–Besides being famous writers? No.

–Your sincerity is moving...so think, how many people have read those books?

–How many stars are in the sky?

–Right. And how many have recreated this worlds as they read them?

–I don’t think I get where you’re going with this...

–When someone writes something that inspires many people to imagine the world they created turns them imortals, their worlds come to existence in another plain of existence and their books come to my collection where I’m responsible for preserving them...

–WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! Rewind a little, you’re telling me that the great writers...

–Actually movie directors too, but they rarely get the spotlight...

–Whathever?! They’re immortals?!

–Yes, they are still in the mortal realm wandering as people whose faces disappear from memory, a little gift from yours trully, but back to the point...

–Poor people...

–What?! What do you mean “poor people”? They can see people enter their worlds and Marvel themselves with them.

–But, I can’t imagine something worse than imortality...see everything and everyone I know live their lives, age and die while I would stay eternal...but if it wasn’t for...not even in that case...

I won’t deny, when I heard this words I felt my heart be crushed, it never ocurred to me. All living beings seek to avoid me at all costs, immortality to me was what all living decided. For the first time I felt a tear touch my skin...

–Are you alright? – he asked sincerely, I recomposed myself and restarted the subject.

–You, however, are a exception.

–Excuse me?

–You dream about your world, draw it, created and recreated it again and again...

–How did you...

–Here... – I showed a battered a book conttaining drawings, notes, data about a different and unique culture. – Recognizes it?

–But this is... – the shock was both in his eyes and his face.

–This world is wonderfull and intriguing, but the narrative is inexistent, that is besides some moments where you talk like you lived in that world, you created everything and did something no one achieved before. You alone created this entire world in another realm.

–What?

–That’s right, but I have to say that the lack of a protagonist and plot in itself are a problem... – I was so distracted that his shock passed unnoticed by me.

–In other words you want me to write the story?

–Yes!

Silence...for a few moments that was all that eas heard, he looked around lost and in despair as if he did not believe in the words I had just spoke – the kind of reaction I expected when I brought him to the stage. The silence remained until he suddenly turnned twowards me, his eyes had an unique glow to them, the kind of glow when someone realizes a new possibility.

–I’m sorry to say but I won’t write anything...

–You dare to deny my request, your thread still has a long extension, but I can...

–I want you to write the protagonist’s story, you can take the glory and the name of the book, but I know the name of the protagonist and who will play his part...

–You’re placing your world in my hands?

–More than that, I’m placing my life in your hands!

I was so surprised by those words that I fell back on a chair that I made manifest in order to prevent me from hitting the ground. A human who had his entire life planned now left at my mercy the creation of a story for a world so personal, not only that he left his destiny? Me, the one who takes away life not give it unless the thread of destiny is already servered and in my possession, I never even thought that someone would entrust me with his thread before his time.

At that moment I remembered that I could verify how sincere he was about the offer since I’m an entity. I snuck into his mind so that I could understand what was going through his thoughts, what I saw was the world that intrigued me so much alive with music, fantastical beings, a nocturne sky painted with trails of golden lights left by the tails of massive creatures born from groups of stars, they swimmed, danced, played and flew as if they were parto f a celebration. On the ground modern music didn’t match the appearence of the building from where it came, like a contagious flow of energy. By my side, there was a being that did not exist in the book that introduced me to this world.

The face of a Wolf, with very few traces of a human face, it’s eyes were picth black like the sky, the otrso of a man covered in a dark gray fur, donning clothes surprisingly modern for the enviroment. It had big hands with slightly long fingers bared what appeared to be claws, it’s legs where akin to a wolf ’s, barefotted not because it was poor, but because it was costumary to creatures who look like animals to walk that way, since they don’t require shoes. It’s tail was long and furry, with irregular patterns of white and light blue combined with his beatifull gray.

It’s appearence surprised me, although nothing would scared me as much as what followed, it turnned towards me with it’s tranquil and dark eyes and said:

–Its beatifull isn’t it? – it could see me!! And it knew of my invasion, but most importantly was the who was thw figure before me.

Our places had been swapped, now I was the guest in his world, the reader must have noticed right? The boy was the creature who stood before me and made me feel so vulnerable and safe with it’s mere presence.

In an attempt to avoid any new surprises that the boy could create I saw myself out of his mind and returned to the vessel I created, which was standing still staring at the child that was scribbling on his book, which was actually more of a guide for his marvelous world. Noticing that my puppet was moving once again he welcomed me with a smile as he said:

–Forgot your manners? But that doesn’t matter now, do you understand my proposition now? I want you top ut me in my world and create the trail which I’ll follow in this new life.

His words did not reach me due to all the commotion up to that moment. Then the final proof fo his sincerity hit me, the book that represented his life up to that moment turnned into small spheres of light before my eyes. He dismantled his own book...such a feat never once ocurred since the beginning of all living things, all his history was erased, he disappeared of the minds of all those who had contact with him, he turnned himself into a phanthom, not a single trace of his existence was left behind in the “real” world from where he once came.

–You actually gave upon everything... – I said shattering the silence, my voice was dark as the eyes of the Wolf-man – ...and now you place all of your hopes of having your dreams made a reality in me...

–I can’t think of a better person to guide me.

–Very well, lets...

–Wait! – he shouted. – I only ask three things: first, my name will be Jack, nothing more, nothing less; second, use my diary to build the world; third and most important...take good care of my dream!

I didn’t give him another second, I servered his thread and his body disappeared. Don’t misunderstand me, but I feared that if I continued my conversation with him I would not be able to grant his wish, I would rather make him my companion, we would read the greatest stories ever created, we would analise the lives of the mortals and...

I beg you pardon dear reader, for finding myself lost in my thoughts, now that the story of this book has been brought up to light, I’ll explain some aspects of the body of this book, some fragments of it will be in a different editing from the general text, these are excerpts of the boy’s diary and they explain certain aspects of this world when necessary.

Now that all these details have been explained, the time to start the story has already passed, one last warning though: if you expect something for childish or lighthearted you better stop reading, because this story is alive and won’t be for those who belive that fantasy elements are part of something that has it’s boundaries of light and darkness perfectly defined. You’ve been warned.