#also gotten back into fire emblem and started watching one piece so expect those from me 👍👍

[teddiecircus]

hi tumblr. been gone a bit how are you

[louhilainen]

Henry fan art and fic

I had a request over from Fire Emblem Amino to draw Henry so I decided to post it on here as well. I had an inspiration to write a fic based on the drawing too... I’m a bit reluctant to share the drawing as the quality is reaaally bad. My partner’s scanner makes the lines too light and the photo isn’t that better either....

About 2000 words long, warning about the fic; child abuse (not graphic)

The Wolf and the Boy

”Caw, caw!”

”Nyahaha, wait for me!”

Henry was gleefully stumbling after his crows. Due to his excitement, the dark mage hardly noticed how far he had come from the man-made trails. The forest had gotten thicker and he advanced very slowly among the overgrown bushes and wet tussocks. He was probably a good way from the safety of the camp and thus, from Shephards. Oh well, he wasn’t too worried for his safety. Henry peered into the empty sky save for the clouds covering the sun. Crows had probably found whatever they were looking for and had landed.

Poor Ricken had had a very confused look on his face, when Henry had simply left him in the middle of their practise and ran after his black flock. His small friends took off from time to time to find food and Henry was determined to see what they had found. It could not be a body of Risen as even crows avoided the sullen flesh of the undead soldiers. Maybe they had found some other unlucky soul? Rotten flesh, guts teared from the belly… He could hardly wait!

He heard a mixture of sounds nearby; his crows cawing loudly and some other animals snarling.

The noise became from behind a thick row of bushes. The black mage pranced to them giddily and squashed himself between the bushes. Taking no time check what was waiting for him, he almost fell through the bushes to relatively flat ground.

The crows had found the meal they were looking for. Too bad it belonged to someone else. A pack of wolves was gathered around a carcass of a deer. Few wolves were tearing away pieces of what was left of it while snapping their teeth to crows who dared closer to their prey. Other wolves, five of them, Henry calculated quickly, lay on the ground, perhaps waiting for others to finish their meal.

It had been awhile since Henry had seen wolves.

“Oh, hello! Don’t mind me!” The mage waved his hand like he had stumbled upon children’s game, not to hungry beasts which could tear him apart in a few seconds.

Wolfes raised their heads in alarm and few of them bared their teeth.

“What? Are you thinking of eating me? Don’t even think about it! I don’t want to hurt you, but I can give you a nice curse… How about a curse where your teeth fall out from your mouth? Nyahahaa!”

Henry took quickly a tome from his bag and placed his hand on it and for a while, neither the mage nor wolves made first move. The crows hanged about around the carcass, waiting for their change.

A big wolf, one of those that had been resting on the ground, relaxed and lay back on the ground. The other wolves followed the example one by one and the ones that had their meal interrupted, directed their attention back to it.                                                                                                                

Henry wasn’t surprised about this. The animals had a good scent who to pick fights with and he had always been better with animals than humans from his very childhood. He put his tome back, and sat on the ground, watching fascinated as wolves devoured their meal. They reminded him of his first friend. Well, more like his mother when Henry thought about it. Wolfie, he had called her. The wolf had visited him almost every day and it had even brought prey to him. She had probably thought that he was hungry. Henry chuckled at the memory. There were some parts of his memories of Wolfie that seemed…. hazy. Like he had forgotten something very important. The mage shook his head. It was no matter. Wolfie was long dead, murdered… At least he had made sure her life hadn’t come cheap.

Henry realized suddenly that one wolf’s gaze never left him. He looked at it curiously. It was the same one that had been the first to react. The staring was certainly unusual behaviour for an animal.

It was a big wolf, probably the leader of the pack. It reminded him of his lost friend. Same size, similar grey-brown fur. Even the gaze was the same. Surprisingly human-like, but still animalistic enough. Like it knew something he didn’t. If he didn’t know better he could have thought it was his friend brought from the dead.

The wolf rose from the ground and very carefully, made its way toward him.

Henry opened his eyes startled. He watched confused the advancing wolf. It stopped close to him, as if waiting for something from him.

“Umm, hello? Have we met before? I’m so sorry, but I don’t remember you at all! I’m pretty sure I would remember you.”

The wolf stayed in its place. It didn’t look it was going to attack him. Henry rose and took a few small steps to the wolf.

“You know, you look really familiar. Have you ever met perhaps my friend Wolfie? Well, it was a name I gave it to her but she looked really like you so…”

Henry met the wolf’s eyes. They were exactly the same as Wolfie’s, expect… expect…. This wolf had a white spot its right eye.

His head spun.

“No, wait, I know you! You’re… you’re…!”  

***                                                                                                                                                    

Henry sat on his usual place with a magic tome on his hands. Under the huge oak, on the meadow near the forest edge. It was his favourite spot. Well, anything was better than that his home, even the streets. But the best part was that villagers rarely ever ventured to this side of the forest. A perfect place for meeting his best friends.

The only ones he had.

Meeting them every day made his life bearable. After playing with them he could easily manage few days with his parents. His father throwing him out, his cheek on the cold, wet ground, the door shut tightly… Never to open to matter how hard he pummelled the door... In the end, Henry finally stopped trying. No, no, Henry didn’t want to think about it. If he dwelled on memories things too long, he was afraid he would… summon something. He could feel the terrible lump throbbing loudly whenever he was most desperate to smile.

Finally a large wolf jogged from the forest with four cubs following closely on the bigger wolf’s paws.

“Hey!” Henry waved his hand and greeted his friends relieved to have their presence save himself from his thoughts. The bigger wolf started to lick his face as soon as she arrived to Henry. “That tickles, haven’t I said you don’t have to wash me!” The boy laughed as wolf’s coarse tongue licked every corner of his face.

Snow and Froggie started to wrestle like they always did when they weren’t eating or sleeping. Snow had gotten his name due to his fur. Well, his fur was more like grey than white, but Snow sounded better. Henry had started to call the other puppy Froggie when he had tried to make a frog his prey. He had been startled when the frog had started jumping higher than Froggie himself was.

Blackie and Spot nibbled and growled at each other around Henry’s legs. They both wanted to climb up to his lap.  Blackie had gotten his name because he had a black snout. Henry had named Spot immediately when he saw her for the first time. She had a white spot under her right eye. Otherwise she looked very much like her mother.  

“You’re getting so big!” Henry picked Spot up and she happily gnawed his arm. “Auch! You’re getting sharper teeth too…”

The boy placed Spot on the ground and picked up a sturdy branch from the grass. Blackie rushed to it and sank his teeth to it. He tried to pull it from the boy with his tail wagging furiously. Spot joined her brother gnawing the branch from the middle.  Mother kept watch on her cubs; on a wolf and a human alike, as they played together. Laughter from the human boy and high pitched snarling and yelping from the wolves filled the meadow with happy sounds.

***

“Well, I’ll be damned! I’ve never seen such a huge wolf before!”

“And it was near the village too! To think it could have attacked someone… That thing could easily just carry a child like it was nothing!”

“Speaking of children, didn’t it have cubs?”

“We haven’t found them yet. The mother must have left them on a den, but we’re going to find them and get rid of them. We don’t want four grown wolves roaming near the village.”

Henry hardly heard the buzzle of the small crowd gathered in the centre of the village. He fell on his knees to the ground beside his death mother. Her side was full of huge arrows. Blood had coloured her beautiful fur with red among the corners of the hole that the arrows had made. Her tongue lolled outside the mouth, her features forever locked in an agonised expression.

“What’s wrong with you, boy? Never seen a dead wolf before?”

“Why the hell is he smiling like that?”

“You’re shaking so badly, are you alright?”

The small boy didn’t hear them. He only heard the lump beating, filling every fibre of his being with vicious power that longed to be released. The lump purred and whispered to him.

Let me take care of this. After that…. You will smile like you never have.

“Hey, what in Naga’s same is he doing…?”

Henry let darkness swallow him.

***

“How… how could I forget you..?” Henry fell on this knees reaching for the wolf. Spot came eagerly to him and the black mage rubbed Spot’s fur with shaking hands.

“I’m so… happy to see you!” Henry always felt happy. But this time… this time he felt like he couldn’t contain his happiness. Like it would burst out from him.

But at the same time… it hurt so much.

“Nyahaa…. What’s… wrong with me? I feel so happy, but it also really, really hurts…. in here…” Henry grasped his shirt, just under where his heart was. He felt moist in the corner of his eyes and touched his eyes. “What’s this? Are these… tears..?” The mage watched his wet fingers in wonder.

His lost sibling began licking his face.

“Aaah, that tickles!” Henry laughed. The tongue felt as coarse as had Wolfie’s years ago.

He made a rare kind of smile; a genuine one. “I’m glad you survived. Even if it was just one of you…I’m glad.”

Spot’s mother had lost her life and her siblings probably as well… Only because she took him in to their family. If he had never visited that place… then… then…

“Hey, can you forgive me?” Henry took his hands off. ”It was kind of my fault your mother was killed. If only I had stayed away from that place and from you…” His voice faded away.

Spot tilted her head and simply commenced licking his face again.

“Haha, I guess I’m forgiven!”

Animals truly were amazing.

The rest of the pack had finished with the carcass and was restlessly moving around, probably wondering why their leader was behaving so oddly around the human. His childhood friend raised her head.

“Is that your pack? You seem to have done good in life, nyaha!” Henry petted her head gently.

“Hey, you know. I have kind of pack too. They’re called Shephards. Although I’m from Plegia and they’re from Ylisse, I feel like they’re my… family? Kinda like you guys were to me. I don’t think they quite understand what’s so great about curses… But it feels like I’m at home when I’m with them.” The wolf’s gaze was on Henry as if she was listening attentively.

“Both of us should be going. You with your pack and I with Shephards. Knowing them, they must be getting worried about me. I wouldn’t want them to start searching from me. Last time Ricken came after me, but then Risen attacked and boy, was it was fun to send them back to afterlife! Nyahahaa! Well, for me at least, Ricken started crying after we made it to the camp…. He really is bad with all this killing stuff.”

“So, good bye, Spot.” Henry scratched around her ears. They weren’t as soft as they were when she had been a cub… But they were still Spot’s. “If you ever need someone dead or cursed, come find me! I’ll send them to hell sooner than you can imagine… I’ve had a much more practise lately!” The dark mage added more cheerfully.

His childhood friend gave a last lick to Henry’s cheek and turned around with a single tail wave. She jogged to her pack. Crows rushed cawing happily to the pitifully small remains of the deer carcass. The dark mage waved his hand in goodbye as the pack slipped to the darkness of the forest.

“Bye bye, Spot! Be safe!” Henry shouted after them. “Huh, what’s this? My eyes are wet again…”

[roxannarambles]

Fire Emblem Fanfic - Ch 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Title: Acquired Taste

Author: Roxanna Rambles

Summary: When Heath defected from Bern's wyvern knights and joined Eliwood's group, he was very keen on keeping to himself, and for the most part, that was easy to do. However, a particular ex-assassin insisted on hounding him. It was extremely annoying. Heath hated it. And there was no way that was going to change. Nope. 

Author Note: Semi-AU, mainly to add characters into the story early; just know Legault joins Eliwood during 'False Friends' and Heath joins during 'Talons Alight.' Also some minor adjustments to Heath's past, so that he's a little less easygoing when he joins Eliwood's crew.

Chapters: Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10  Chapter11 Chapter 12 Epilogue

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man stood upon one leg, his other foot pressed into the wall his back was propped against. One arm was crossed over his chest, his hand tucked into the crook of his other arm, rolling and twirling a short stick absent-mindedly about in his other hand.

A long, purple cape fluttered gently in the evening breeze, and flowing lavender hair swept back with a bandana matched the cape's flutter. The man held a peaceful, contemplative expression, his heather eyes focused on nothing in particular. Such a serene face was marred with old, deep scars traced broadly from above his right brow to down across his face and cheek. Although it gave a fierce, intimidating look about him at first blush, something about the man also immediately suggested he was not a savage fighter by nature. Perhaps it was the sly smirk that decorated his face, or perhaps it was the ring of lock picks hanging from his skewed leather belt, belaying his current profession.

Had someone come upon this man, they might have easily assumed he was lost in thought. His head was bowed and his casual demeanor gave him an air of lazy comfort. But he was not oblivious to the outside world. On the contrary, he was actually listening carefully to the hustle and chatter of the camp around him. The ragtag crew of soldiers, nobles, mercenaries, misfits and turncoats were a bunch he had somehow gotten caught up in. The entire company, under the leadership of some plucky young nobles with grand visions of combating corruption and evil, were camped out after a full day's march. Their chosen site for rest was a crumbling old church abandoned perhaps a millennia ago. It was one of the outer walls he was propped against now; listening to tents being pitched, draft animals shooed about, supplies being sorted for the evening and the general mayhem of so many people in a relatively small space.

Legault found it pleasant to just perch there and listen. Perhaps it was nothing more than indulging ingrained habits. In his old line of work, he used to stand like that for hours, patiently, watching, listening. It was nice to keep one's skills in check, even if he didn't plan on using them again.

Among the din and natter, one voice in particular caught his attention. It was distant and indistinct, yet it immediately leapt out at him. It was that wyvern rider who had joined their lot a few weeks back. Legault tilted his head and could just barely make out the man's figure within the interior of the church ruins. A lanky man, with wildly spiked green and white hair, still donning his old, cracked Bern armor-- he stood speaking with one of the Lycian nobles, Hector. Legault strained to catch what pieces he could of the conversation.

". . . could do that, it would be a great help. I don't trust these woods . . ."

". . . no trouble. She should be well rested by now, I can head out immediately."

"Excellent! Be sure to check the whole perimeter . . ."

After a few moments, they concluded their conversation, and the wyvern rider began heading in the direction of the  impromptu stables area. It wasn't difficult to surmise he would be taking his beast out on patrol for the evening. Legault let his thoughts settle around the enigmatic man. What an odd fellow. It was clear from the very outset that the man carried a strong sense of pride and justice, but he was so aloof and guarded. There seemed to be much behind his pale eyes that he left unspoken. Legault had found himself drawn to the stranger almost immediately. Unfortunately, his friendly overtures had been met with prickly irritation and suspicion, and he'd been unable to progress beyond that point. A shame, really, as the handsome Bern turncoat was really quite admirable and fascinating.  If Legault was being entirely honest, he'd been on his mind far too frequently.

Why did he always have to fall for the difficult ones?

Gravel crunched under heavy reptilian feet, the creature being guided outside the church ruins to reach the open skies. Legault remained as still as he had the entire evening, and waited until they had just gone past him.

"Sneaking off for the night, Heath?"

The man visibly startled and spun around. When his eyes fell upon Legault, he sighed wearily.

"What are you doing skulking about?"

"If you can go out to enjoy the night air, why can't I?"

Heath scowled and turned his focus on adjusting his wyvern's saddle.

"I'm not out for a jaunt. I'm running nightwatch for Hector."

"That's valiant of you. Mind if I tag along?"

Heath gave him a puzzled look.

"Why?"

"This constant questioning of my motives does get tiresome. I thought you might like the backup. Besides, it'd be nice to stretch my legs."

Heath climbed onto his wyvern's saddle.

"It would take quite the jog to keep up with me. But do as you please."

He glanced down at Legault and added as an afterthought;

"I'm setting up watch at the mouth of the valley after running the perimeter. Perhaps you'll manage to make it out there, if you don't run afoul of the boars or wildcats."

With that, he signaled his wyvern and took to the sky. Legault watched him veer off and vanish over the trees.

"Well," he muttered to himself,

"I suppose I do love a challenge."

After giving the camp a brief backwards glance, he began hiking.

Although the distance to travel was not unreasonable, the density of the woods and the ever-darkening sky didn't exactly make things easy. Legault hadn't brought a torch, of course, but he possessed unusually keen eyesight-- one of the advantages of his nature, being a predator of the night. Even he had his limits, though. Fortunately, he was able to keep his bearings and was guided during the final leg of his journey by a tiny point of light.

Heath was seated upon an old log, poking at a sloppily-built campfire with his lance. He glanced up and raised his brows as a figure materialized from the trees.

"Hmm. I admit I expected you to have been eaten on the way over."

"I imagine I taste far too foul for that sort of thing."

The wyvern rider grunted and turned back to poking the fire. Legault drew closer, glancing to the scarlet wyvern curled behind Heath a few feet away. It could be an unpredictable beast, but he knew it was wary of the fire, and at the moment it seemed content enough. A few moments passed in silence.

"So is this how you spend your nightwatches? Sitting about and poking campfires?"

"More or less. Guarding isn't exactly an exciting duty. I still cannot fathom why you'd wish to join me."

Legault settled down upon a large stone near the fire.

"I'm curious about you, Heath. You're a very tight-lipped man. Why don't you tell me more about yourself?"

"I'd rather not."

"Well, you might as well. We're out here for the night with nothing better to do."

Heath scowled, but remained silent.

"How about start with what brought you here, mm? Why leave your old life behind? It must have been a compelling enough reason to mark yourself a fugitive from such a powerful country."

"My reasons needn't concern you."

"I see. What about those gentlemen you were working for before you met this little band? You left them in quite the hurry as well. A flighty fellow, aren't you?"

"Perhaps I'm just indecisive."

"Somehow I doubt it's as simple as that."

"I do not see why it is important. What matters is I am here now."

Legault smiled wryly.

"Goodness, Heath. Might you throw me a bone?  Does your wyvern have a name?"

The knight's eyes flickered to the slumbering animal. After a moment, he said,

"Hyperion."

"Ah! At last, a suitable topic. Well then-- is it difficult to keep it fed? It looks as though it would have a sizable appetite."

"She. She can be a glutton if I let her, but she doesn't need much. A few rabbits or a bushel of fruit."

"Fruit? I wouldn't have expected that."

Heath leaned back a little on his seat, looking hesitant, but did continue to speak.

"She prefers meat, of course, but there are times during travel we must make do. Sometimes fish, sometimes insects, even roots or fungi. They are hearty, adaptable creatures."

"I can see why Bern's soldiers use them."

The knight shook his head.

"That is not so important a thing to Bern. The wyverns are used for their strength and ferocious appearance. A beast that calls to mind the terror of the time of Dragons is advantageous. It . . . matters very little to Bern's armies if the wyverns are kept healthy for long. They are bred in masses and simply replaced."

"Oh. Ah . . . that seems a little cruel."

Heath turned a log in the fire with his lance.

"It is."

Legault hummed,

"I guess it's lucky for her that she's got you, then."

Heath looked again to Hyperion.

"I am more in debt to her than she is to me. There is much I would have failed to survive without her. Especially when I. . ."

He trailed off, seeming to catch himself.

"When you went on the lam?"

He gave a reluctant nod.

"Honestly, I'm a little jealous. I wouldn't have minded the assistance of a wyvern when I left the Fang."

Heath seemed to prickle a little at that.

"I assure you my challenges far outweighed any minor advantage I had. Bern deserters are treated like foxes for the foxhunt."

"They sound like a cheery bunch," Legault commented dryly.

"Not particularly. They . . . curse you, Legault!"

The thief straightened up a little from his slouched position.

"What? Why are we suddenly cursing my name?"

Heath glowered at him.

"I suppose you should be proud. Your attempt to lull information from me nearly worked, for half a second."

Legault felt his normally cool, sanguine disposition heat a little.

"Why are you so hellbent on the notion I have only nefarious wishes in my heart?"

"You're Black Fang, Legault."

"Former Black Fang."

"Does that really matter?"

"I certainly feel it does."

"I've heard about the Black Fang, all right? It takes a particular kind of person to become involved with that lot."

"Mmm," Legault replied coolly,

"And perhaps you don't know as much as you believe you do. You're being awfully quick to hold a man's former associations against him, all things considered."

Legault said that final part with special emphasis. Heath glared a moment, but the fire faded from his eyes.

"Very well. Your point is made. Then tell me what you know of them."

Legault nodded.

"First, tell me what you believe of them. Although I could hazard a guess."

Heath considered a moment, then shrugged.

"As I know them, they are a team of assassins that unscrupulously accept any and all commands to kill. Although they masqueraded as a group that only targeted the corrupt in power, in truth they terrorized all in equal measure."

"Sounds about right."

"Then I'm correct?"

Legault shook his head.

"About the Black Fang as we know them today, yes, but that hasn't always been the case. The entire enterprise has been eaten away from the inside out. I doubt that you'll believe me, of course, but the truth is they used to believe in those ideals you mentioned. It was supposed to be about justice, against those who normally would see none."

Heath didn't exactly look as though he believed him, but in the very least, he was listening. Legault settled back down into a comfortable position and sighed.

"Things were very different back in the day. We were such a small group. Close-knit. It was almost like a family, of sorts. I'm not about to claim our profession was a glamorous one, but it was righteous, at least. That much, I know. The change . . . it . . . crept up gradually."

Legault gazed off at nothing in particular.

"It crept up on us all. Some of us realized sooner than others. Some never came to their senses. And those that did . . . well."

He smiled crookedly.

"Let's just say I think you understand the dangers of being a deserter or a traitor."

The small space fell silent, with only the crackle of the fire. It was a few minutes before Heath spoke.

"Do you ever long for your old life?"

The thief glanced to him, not expecting the question. Heath added,

"Before your group changed, I mean. Before they fell corrupt."

Legault tossed the small twig he'd been idly playing with into the fire.

"For the most part, the Black Fang is all I've known. It's not so much a longing as it is feeling aimless now."

Heath gave a small nod, gazing steadily into the fire. Once again, Legault saw so many unspoken words flickering behind the man's eyes. Eventually, the knight said,

"Perhaps you will yet find purpose."

Hyperion ruffled her wings and stretched, then curled back up again lazily. Legault sighed wistfully.

"Here's hoping, anyway."

[dapokemonmadster]

all primary numbers for the fic ask meme!!

Wow okay it’s really summer break I had to look up prime numbers to remember what they were HHHHHHH

2, 3 and 5 have been done!

7. What’s the fic you most want to continue (unfinished or no)?:Mmmm that’s a hard one, because the answer is, A FEW. The two at the top of that list are My safe Haven is With You and Avatar Special. Like I’ve said in the earlier asks, I love AS and really want to continue it, the problem is that, going back, I really don’t like what I’ve written for it so far. To fix it, I’d have to go back and rewrite a lot of it, which I don’t have the energy for right now. And MSHWY? Well... I just need to make myself do that, haha! I’ve got no good reason for postponing that one! I also hope to make a sequel for Enter the Fans some day. And make it much better than its predecessor. 

11. Have you ever written a fic for a concept you know someone else has done before? How did it impact your writing process or feelings after posting?: YES, TOTALLY. Fresh and original concepts are very hard to come up with. Like our writing teachers always like to say, there are only a limited number of plotlines in the world. To be honest, I like to disagree with that, but the fact remains that even if you come up with something that you’ve never heard of, odds are somebody has already written something with an extremely similar plot or concept. However, a problem that many writers face (or really, I wouldn’t call it a problem but more of a challenge), is accidentally (or purposefully) including elements of some of your favorite pieces. I find that happens more often in fanfics, since you’re all working with the same characters. I ran into this problem most often with my (never posted) Overwatch fics. I’d read so many Pharmercy fics that they’d kind of gotten all jumbled together in my brain, and I couldn’t really recall which ideas were from which fic! And when I started writing my own, I was heavily influenced by this jumble of ideas to the point where I felt that I was just rewriting, in some ways, scenes that had happened in other people’s fics. 

13 has been done!

17. In your opinion, what’s your most overrated fic?:FFFFFF ENTER THE FANS. Yeah sure, it was decently written and funny, but like, it totally catered to fanon expectations and I could’ve written it so much better honestly. I mean, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I’ll be keeping it up forever so more people can enjoy it if it’s up their alley, and I can see how far I’ve come, but it was so... bleh. I dunno. And I think in some ways, my younger self was kind of offensive and uneducated about a few things which makes me a little less proud of it nowadays. 

19 has been done!

23. What’s the nicest review you’ve ever gotten?:OH MAN, THAT’S HARD SINCE I’VE GOTTEN A LOT OF REALLY NICE AND SWEET ONES (I love my followers, thank you so much!!), BUT LEMME TRY AND FIND A GOOD ONE!! (Also please note that a lot of my really nice ones were sent in by @beanmaster-pika, @vradmic, and @viktvr-nikiforov) Okay, but one that’s still pretty fresh on my mind and made me smile like crazy was from Wolvesrock14 on Fanfiction.net! “Dude. Dude! You see what you've written here? Well guess what, it's freaking amazing! Like, just, wow! You've written literally everything so–... Perfectly! And I mean everything. From the way the story's written to the way the characters think and interact– Just awesome. I teared up while reading this chapter. It was that freaking heartfelt and emotional. So yeah, GREAT job on that, and I can't wait to see what other heart wrenching things you've got in store. Until then, keep up the awesome work 'cause you're doing great!” THAT MADE ME SO HAPPY!!!

29. Does the division of your writing across fandoms line up with your reading? What’s the biggest discrepancy?:HONESTLY, NO. The most fics I read are for RWBY nowadays, and I’ve got what, 4 fics? (That’s actually more than I thought but whatever) I’ve published 10 fics, and 6 of those are for pokespe. So yeah, I’m slacking on those RWBY fics!! Also I’m going to publish a new story soon for a fandom I’ve never written for before (side eyes Fire Emblem), and I’ve only read like 2 fics for it, haha. But those two fics were both REALLY GOOD. Very high quality. 

31. Who’s the one character you’ve just never managed to get perfectly right?:Hmmmm. HMMMM. That’s a tough one. I’ve never felt like I’ve had a hard time with any pokespe characters (reader, am I right? Or have I gotten some of them wrong?), but I also haven’t written for every spe character. Concerning RWBY... I feel like I haven’t written enough for it yet to give an honest opinion, but I feel like I’ve hit the mark on our four girls, at least, for how I interpret them. But you know what, I’m having a difficult time with Owain for my Fire Emblem fic. I think I’m getting his relationships and banter right, I just... I DON’T THINK I’M WRITING HIM ‘DRAMATIC’ ENOUGH. IT’S HARD TO FOLLOW HIS SPEECH PATTERNS, OKAY. 

37. Have you ever purposefully bashed a character/ship in a fic?:I can’t remember too well, but I think I did actually bash like, Tenthshipping (not purposefully, just the way it was written) and Morganiteshipping (in the AN) in Enter the Fans and Avatar Special. I really regret doing that, and hate how my narrow-mindedness when it came to ships affected me like that when I first began to write. Also I’ve probably bashed Sird but I DON’T REGRET THAT AT ALL LMAO. As a RWBY and Bu//mbl//eby fan/writer, I’m making sure to never bash Sun or Bl//ac//ksun because the fans and character really don’t deserve that and I like Sun plenty as a character, and some BB shippers can be really rude. 

41. If you cross-post your fics on multiple sites, do you have a favorite? Are there certain fics you would only post on certain site?:I post all my fics on FFN, Ao3, and Wattpad. Though Wattpad’s fallen off the map a little. I like Ao3 the best, in terms of it being easy to manage and nice to look at, though I always seem to get more attention on FFN!!

43. Your least popular?:Uuuh am I allowed to look this one up it’s A Night of Diamonds. (I’m still pissed at myself for not coming up with a better name, ugh) Ambershipping isn’t too popular in the spe fandom, so I’m not surprised, and RWBY fics tend to get more attention that spe fics (though my two most popular fics are pokespe hahaha). 

47. If someone you know in real life who isn’t involved in fandoms asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first?:

DEPENDS ON WHO THEY ARE. MY MOM’S ACTUALLY ASKED TO READ MY SAFE HAVEN IS WITH YOU AND I’M GONNA LET HER I JUST NEED TO POST THE BEES REUNION HAHAHAI had my mom watch all of RWBY with me, so I’m actually fine with her reading my stuff. And I’d let a few other friends read my fics, though it depends on how close to me they are. Also, for the record, if any of my irl friends WANTED to find me, I’m pretty sure they could. My username for everything is... very consistent so I’m not hard to find. Also I’d probably recommend Flirting 101 because it’s not essential to have context to enjoy. 

[alternis-dim]

I’ve uploaded my first fanfiction! I’ll post it here below the cut after the summary as well. comments and pointers are much appreciated!

Summary:

With the Grimleal disbanded, Grima defeated, and Ylisse's future and safety assured, life across all reaches of the continent has returned to normal. Robin, retrieved a month ago after his long absence following the Shepherds' final battle, now has an uncomfortable amount of time left alone to his thoughts, and his questions always circle back to what is left unanswered about his past. Chrom has finally decided that it's time to consult his tactician to find out what's wrong.

Robin often spent cool evenings such as this outside of the castle and on the grassy grounds. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable indoors, of course. As a tactician, he was accustomed to dimly lit rooms, crammed full of maps and books and quite often other people, and never did he feel suffocated while working in his element. That said, leaving the castle still felt like a breath of fresh air. As twilight fell, the man walked past gates and guards, handing out polite greetings as he went, before coming to a stop at a small ledge that overlooked the sinking sun. With a small groan, he leaned down carefully and took a seat, his cloak settling around his legs.

He sat like this for a while, watching the sky turn from blue to orange, then as the hues darkened to red and streaked the clouds with pink. It was times like these that Robin was most appreciative of everything he and the Shepherds had been through. These quiet, peaceful moments were no longer threatened by an impending apocalypse. He understood that he was pivotal to the assurance that the future would never be plagued by Grima's darkness again, and he knew that even if he hadn't woken up on another sunny field, it still would have all been worth it. It was for this reason that he had been most grateful of his return a month ago and his chance to experience the future he helped build. And yet...

"Hey."

The deep voice startled Robin out of his musings. He glanced over his shoulder, then smiled when he recognized the tall figure silhouetted by the red sky.

"Good evening, Chrom. Can't say I expected to see you out here."

"I could say the same to you," Chrom started as he strolled over, "but that would be a lie. You've been spending a lot of time at this spot, haven't you?" He took a seat on Robin's right, stretching his legs out in front of him as he leaned back on his arms.

"What can I say?" Robin chuckled as he turned his head back towards the sunset. "It's a beautiful view. It's not so bad to go from the war room to this."

Chrom nodded in absentminded agreement, but he seemed too distracted to pay much heed to the painted sky his companion was admiring. "It is a nice place." His gaze shifted back to Robin's face. "But I know you, and I'm sure that there's more going on in your head than just the scenery."

The way the corners of Robin's lips tightened slightly was a subtle but absolute confirmation. "You aren't wrong. But a tactician should always be thinking, right?"

"You're not planning tactics here," he responded with just a hint of exasperation. "I know you well enough to know that you've been out here thinking a lot more personally than where our troops should be deployed next." He turned his body to face his friend now. "I came out here to find you because as your Exalt and your closest friend, it's my job to hear what I can do for you. And you have more than enough reason to be thinking like this. By the gods, you practically came back from the dead!"

Robin tried to shrug it off as he let his gaze wander back upwards, avoiding eye contact with the insistent prince. "I promise I'm not trying to be selfish or self-sacrificing here. I've done enough of that already." He made quick eye contact, but the weak joke hadn't provoked any sort of reaction, so he looked away once more. "No, it's nothing important like that. Just some unanswered questions."

"Ah." Chrom nodded in understanding. It was true that Robin was still a mysterious individual despite the many answers they had gotten about aspects of his past. "How long has this been bothering you?"

Robin rubbed small circles on the back of his hand with his thumb where the mark had once been as he pondered the question. "Oh, the last couple weeks, I suppose?" The circles started to get faster. "It's just... strange, you know. To know that you were marked the moment you were born. To meet, and speak with, and kill another version of yourself that took the wrong path..." His voice wavered a bit, but he continued to act as if they were discussing the weather. "To know that maybe the only reason you turned out alright was that you couldn't remember anything about your old life."

Chrom was taken aback. "How can you think that? Robin, memory or no memory, you're a good man," he insisted. Robin cut him off.

"That's what the mystery for me is. Maybe it really was all dependent on my memory." Chrom looked ready to interject, but Robin pressed on. "Please, hear me out. It would be ridiculous for me to deny that I've done good things, and I'm proud to be nothing like Validar or Grima. But I still have one pressing question, and I've been sitting here every night trying to answer it."

"And that is?"

"That Robin from the first timeline, the one we fought... I got premonitions after he tried and failed to pass on his memories. That's where I got the amnesia," he said, tapping his head. "And you know that. We used those memories to save your life. But as I replay that, I can't help but think to myself, 'What's really so different about how it happened then and how it happened the second time?'"

"What does that have to do with- oh." Chrom whispered the last word as he finally realized what he was saying. "Your memories."

"Yeah." Robin shifted, feeling awkward now that the illusion of aloofness was gone. Chrom sure had a way with being direct. "The first Robin still became your tactician and still ended up battling at the altar. And we all know how he turned out."

Chrom needed a moment to formulate a response. This was something that had never even occurred to him. Of course, he reasoned, Robin was a thinker. It was only logical that he would try to piece together his old identity from the little he had learned since then. Comparing and contrasting the experiences of his two iterations was one way to go about it. After a long pause, he finally spoke. "You two still could have had different experiences from the time you met me. I wouldn't make the leap that it all lies in your past."

"I appreciate it, Chrom," he answered just a tad wearily. "But there are still more questions, even just in this timeline. For example..." He stretched his left arm out, letting the sleeve hang straight down. The three violet eyes of Grima were clear as day on the black canvas. "Why do I have this? These are Plegian robes. Validar said my mother took me far from the country, but these tell me that didn't stay true. Not to mention that his hierophant wore the exact same ones." He didn't need to say the rest of what that statement implied. The other me we fought wore the exact same ones.

"Hm." Chrom couldn't come up with a response, so he let him continue.

"Also, why did I know a thing about tactics?" he continued, agitated. "Tome magic, swordplay, those have reasonable explanations. Of course I would know self-defense if I was running from a cult. But tactics? What purpose would a runaway have to learn how to command an army?" He let it hang in the air for a moment as he regathered some of his lost composure. "Sorry, I'm a little worked up. But the worst part is that I still can't answer these questions. I don't know why I was in a field. I don't know who or where my mother is or if she's even alive. I don't know what or who I got involved with before you all found me. But the more I try to answer that question, the more I believe that I don't want to know." He folded his knees to his chest and leaned his head on them, and although his eyes were trained on the darkening horizon, they were glassed over with a faraway look.

"Robin." Chrom reached out a hand and planted it reassuringly on his shoulder. "You should have told me sooner."

Robin turned his head and met Chrom's eyes, letting out an airy chuckle. "Yeah. I'm not sure why I held out. Old habits, I suppose. Bad habits."

Chrom squeezed Robin's shoulder reassuringly. "It's what friends are here for. You didn't really forge all these bonds for nothing, did you? You can use them for more than coming back from the dead, you know."  The corners of Robin's eyes crinkled with a smile at this comment. Chrom returned the grin. "Let me ask you something, Robin."

"Yes?"

"Are you a good person?"

"All these concerns aside... I've been told that by more than one person."

"And do you believe it?"

"...Yes."

"Then there's your answer." Chrom slapped his friend on the back, then withdrew his hand, leaning back on both arms again. "I can't answer your questions about your past, and unless your amnesia ever resolves, you won't either. But if it helps, then picture your amnesia as a new awakening."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that it's absolute proof that you're a good man. Whether you make the assumption that you were good or bad before, it didn't matter once you forgot. But when I first met you, you valued honesty and innocent lives, and you were eager to have a chance to head a force that does good for Ylisse. At your core, when all your experiences are stripped away, that's the person you are."

Robin nodded, feeling something in his chest ease. "Chrom... thank you." He stood up, dusting off the hem of his cloak with the back of his hand before offering it to him. "For everything."

"Of course." Chrom grabbed the outstretched hand and hoisted himself back up. The two of them stood for just a moment, watching as the sun dipped below the skyline and the first stars began to speck the sky. Then, without a word, the two of them turned back towards the castle.

[kingofbluebell]

Comfort in Monotony: A Prologue

I would apologize for another delay in the work I promised this week if I didn't spend my free time engrossed in other fulfilling activities. Needless to say, all my anime writing is moving to the backburner for the foreseeable future until I schedule it in. I should have known that if I set out to play more video games this year that I couldn't keep my promise to watch more anime. If my critiques contained less editorializing, I could see myself having already produced a review or two at this juncture, but since my work tends to lean heavier on more emotionally-fuelled analysis, I need more time edit. Besides, I haven't done much long form anime critique in a while. A majority of what I wrote last year pertains to video games, mainly RPGs, which segues us somewhat favorably back to my recent obsession with playing Trails of Cold Steel. I've come late to the party for Falcom's The Legend of Heroes franchise although I regret not doing it sooner with how genuinely enraptured it’s made me.

I eschewed the Bandai Namco released trilogy on PSP (which has only gotten prohibitively expensive due to their low print runs) and only dipped my toes into the celebrated first Trails of the Sky before moving onto to something else as often happens when you own too many games. Publisher XSEED has made a name for themselves by partnering with Falcom, and their dedication in localizing this fan-favorite franchise is evident with every dialogue box I click through. The (more recent) Trails games are known for their extensive amount of text, besieging players with paragraphs not only for the main story but a majority of the sidequests. This, on top of your traditional JRPG trappings, means that these games are slow burners, which is a turnoff for a lot of people who would rather spend their free time on multiple games rather than one or two. However, my lifetime attachment to this genre has me willing to let dozens of games languish on my shelf while I finish a single 80-hour plus title, with many of those collecting dust games of equal length.

That said I still don't like wasting my time, a problem considering my JRPG predilections. One of the worst feelings for me is sinking over 60 hours into any game only to realize you don't feel like seeing this journey through. It's happened to me only a handful of times in my JRPG "career" but being so few and far between means that these games stick with me. In my experience, a great JRPG is one that invests the player to the point where the monotonous activities associated with the (sub)genre don't often register. This investment is, of course, a subjective state of being for each player but regardless of what your favorite JRPGs might be, you must admit that they all kept your attention longer than you expected regardless of what they made you do. Unfortunately, my recent playthrough of  Dragon Quest VII on 3DS could not keep my attention after 80 hours, and I dropped the game for more compelling activities. Reflecting on my time spent has only made my feelings of disappointment towards the title grow which saddens me as I've been a longtime fan of the franchise. While I'm only about halfway through Trails of Cold Steel, I feel confident that I'll be seeing it to completion even with Yakuza 0 releasing this week. In fact, I had to wrench myself away from my PS Vita even to write what is ultimately going to be a very short blog post. Cold Steel has officially won me over so much that I'm already eager to begin the sequel sooner than anticipated and I suspect this blog will suffer for it. Despite my, I'm going to try to turn what proved to be a lack of time to write this week into something more productive. In all honestly, I had been struggling to come up with topics for this blog given my fixation on Trails of Cold Steel to the detriment of all my other plans. However, this familiar sense of fascination with my media engagement has only focused my thoughts and is beginning to germinate an idea that will prove fruitful in the coming weeks.

Last year, around the time I had a similarly addictive time with the Etrian Odyssey franchise, I wrote a handful of posts on what made for a great JRPG. While poorly planned and unedited as all my posts were that year, they were seemingly my most passionate posts mainly due to the fact I managed to churn out over four pages a night. My history and deep connection with the genre made me an unstoppable typing machine, and I happily whittled away the hours because I was covering a topic so close to me. At the time it had been a while since I completed any JRPGs that made me lose faith in the genre and so I didn't have any concrete examples or experiences to compare against these recent successes. Up to that point, I had read the numerous articles and posts from other longtime fans who had become disenchanted with the genre during the last console generation. The looming presence of the Final Fantasy trilogy, the complete lack of localized Dragon Quest titles and despite their rise in popularity not everyone had bought into the heavy anime aesthetic of the recent Persona games nor the more severe difficulty of the rest of the Megami Tensei franchise had left the consensus wanting. While I thought many of the criticisms lobbied against the genre were valid, I couldn't turn my back on it. Not when I managed to discover at least game a year that I enjoyed. I was still a champion for the genre so many others had written off because much like with these games I knew my patience would be rewarded.

That patience would have appeared to paid off as 2016 seemed to revitalize the general gaming public's interest in JRPGs. Not only did plenty of titles receive rave reviews from critics and fans but also those same people were excited about the genre's future outings. Regrettably, the games I decided to sink my time into last year did not fill me with the same excitement so many others felt. Both aforementioned Dragon Quest VII remake and the Fire Emblem x Megami Tensei spin-off Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE did not sit well with me. Despite continuing to write on my blog at that point, I expressed my disappointment of them to others even though they did not share my sentiments. In a year where most people rekindled their love with JRPGs mine had dulled. I'll admit my reticence to restart playing Trails of Cold Steel came from a fear of potentially not enjoying another fan-favorite title. Those fears assuaged and my passion reignited I turn back to the time I spent on less than stellar JRPGs with an aim in mind.

Now armed with the additional knowledge of a diverse set of recent titles I can finally write a series of essays on what I consider to be the qualities of an excellent JRPG.  I won't just be covering current titles as I'll delve into a few select classics that epitomize the traits I hope to champion. My aim is for these pieces help others better understand the genre and to expose many to titles they may not have considered picking up. Even if people don't agree with the merit of my chosen subjects I hope they find my work worthy enough to start a dialogue. I see these essays taking up the bulk of my time on this blog in February, if not the entire month. I'll spend the rest of this month trying to outline what I hope to cover so they all come out looking better than this. In the meantime, I'm going to return to playing more Trails of Cold Steel and trying to squeeze something different for an interim post.

See you next week.

[canvaswolfdoll]

Canvas and Video Games

Have I talked about my Video Game history? Feels like I have, but I also can’t remember doing so. I’m also running low on possible essay topics, and haven’t finished off any media that I can review[1] recently enough to do that instead…

So, hey, you nerds, let’s talk about Video Games!

Because that’s obviously been a massive influence on my life, what with… my entire brand, really. Egads, am I a nerd, sitting here with a New 3DS in a charging cradle in front of me, trying to work out how to do better quality streams and deciding to write an essay about Video Games.

It all started with my brother, old Foxface himself. As the family lore goes, my parents once didn’t want video games in the house, what with… the social stigma, I guess? It was different times, alright?

Point is, my brother’s speech teacher was all ‘Hey, you know what may help with speech? Video Games! Get him video games.’

And so my parents did, despite any reasonable connection or evidence in the above argument.[2]

So they bought him the Sega Genesis, the only non-Nintendo console we’ve ever owned. He played Sonic the Hedgehog! Also… no. It was mostly just Sonic.

Obviously young Canvas was also interested in the wonder of interactive media, and the running rodent, so I’d watch him play, and occasionally step in as Tails or try to play it myself. And I was terrible at it.

Eventually, the Nintendo 64 was released and added to our fleet of hardware, and we never looked back! Ha ha!

That’s the console that we really cut our teeth on, with it’s many beloved games, from Mario 64, Star Fox 64, Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time (first Zelda game I was ever aware of), and so on and so forth. We ended up with most of the major releases.[3] Also Mischief Makers for some reason.

It was also the height of Video Rental stores, though I never got to choose games to rent. Vulpin stuck with Space Station Silicon Valley which… might deserve an HD Remake, to be honest. Such a bizarre premise people would eat up, nowadays.

The Game Boy Color arrived, carrying Pokemon and various shovelware, plus a few Zelda Games. Tried my best with them, but for the longest time I never actually completed a video game, or got that far, though I did finish Johto in Gold, which is something.

Gamecube came out, the Dreamcast died, and I began to become aware of the surrounding culture as my capabilities to use the internet matured. We also continued a trend of our person game libraries for the generation growing larger than the last. Lots of GameCube games.

Animal Crossing was a Christmas gift early in the cycle, and it was the first video game all of the kids in the family played, to various extents. Elder Sister was her usual perfectionist self, paid off her house, then pretty much stopped playing video games forever afterwards. Little Sister still plays the occasional game (mostly Paper Mario), but largely it’s just Foxface and I who are deep into the gaming scene.

But, like so many things, tracking each and every experience would be a rather sisyphean task, so I should try and refocus here.

Video Games have always been a presence in my life, and thus had its effects on my creative self, from imaginary friends to the little stories I’d crafted pacing the backyard. They were my chief insight into narratives and various genres, design (whether costume or set or mechanical). Nintendo Power helped educate me on the concept of news and industry, as well as the community that could grow from a hobby.

In fact, Pokemon was the main driving force behind the event I joke is the time I’ve ever made friends myself,[4] being approached while reading a book related to the franchise during second grade. It was nice.

Learning about the internet and GameFAQs hinted towards the wider world and culture, and eventually I came upon 8-Bit Theater, which fired up my love of comics in a big way. Comics and stories made from and about elements of video games? That’s so cool!

Then Nintendo Acres happened.

The diminishing use of quality sprite work in video games makes me sad, by the way. There’s just something about the GBA/DS era graphics that invokes joy in my heart, by now even Pokemon has left sprite work behind for models, and even kitschy independent games tend for the super minimalistic version of 8-bit and… whatever one would refer to Atari graphics. Had I artistic talent, I would slather my media in 16-bit evocative of Friends of Mineral Town or The World Ends with You.

In fact, I think that’s one of my main hurdles getting invested in Stardew Valley[5] and Undertale. They just look ugly, even by the standards of kitschy 8-bit style. Frisk is malformed, and all the Stardew characters are in the wrong perspective for the rest of the world. Sprite work can be so beautiful, and yet no one puts in the effort anymore.

Look, sprites aren’t the only aesthetic I love, just so we’re clear. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, I just prefer bright, cheery worlds. Tale of Symphonia is one of my favorite games, if not my absolute number one.[6] There’s just something very nice about a fantasy world that looks lush and vibrant, where you’d be happy to live just for the scenery. The Tales series and Rune Factory also made me very positive about oddly intricate characters in fantasy. I’ve never liked the dirt covered fantasy of… let’s say Skyrim. Fantasy should be about escapism, grand adventure in grand landscapes, not the crushing reality of medieval times.

More Ghibli, less brown is what I want in general.

I may be an oddball for the elements I look for in video games. I like RPGs (obviously) but there’s very few members of the genre I actually enjoy. I flat-out can’t stand western Video Game RPGs.

What I usually look for in games is both a compelling narrative and interesting mechanics, with allowance for the ‘Classics’ and trendsetters.[7] This is something I find lacking in Western-Style RPGs, with their focus on customizing and granular stat advancement. Sure, I understand someone’s desire to try and put a popular character in an Elder Scrolls, or place some curious limitation on themselves while crawling around Fallout’s wastelands.

But because the game needs to allow the player to make whoever they want, it severely cripples the writer’s ability to write the “main” character into the plot, lest they step on the agency of the player. So, from my perspective, we end up in one of two situations: the PC is a non-entity in the plot, with the narrative happening around and to them instead of with them. Or, we get a Mass Effect situation, where they treat it like Choose Your Own Adventure, and you end up shooting a dude when you thought you were just going to arrest him.[8] That’s why I much prefer being handed a protagonist with a history and personality.

Now, those familiar with my tabletop philosophies, and namely my disdain for randomized Character Gen because it takes away player agency might be tilting their head at this inconsistency.

Well, it’s a scale thing. I realize Video Games have a limitation, and thus it’s unreasonable to expect it to cater to you completely. Tabletop, however, allows endless narrative possibilities, because it’s being created in the moment. So, with Video Games, I’m more willing to just let the story take me along as an observer, like a TV Show.

Which is to say, I don’t really project on the Player Character, and am I happy with that. It’s a division between game and story that may seem odd, but it’s what I look for: every piece having a narrative purpose, especially the loser who’s carrying us on our back.

So, narratively, I prefer the style of JRPGs (also, I like Anime and it’s tropes, so…). Yet, I have never really gotten engrossed in any Final Fantasy Game, because list combat is very dull. I mean, grindy, set the auto-attack against opponent style of Western RPGs[10] aren’t much better, but at least it’s got a hint of visual interest.

What am I left with? For a while, Tales of Symphonia, but now I’ve got Rune Factory, with it’s rather simple combat, but still mostly fun (helped along by other elements), and especially Fire Emblem, which what I wish battlemat D&D combat could be: quick, clever, strategic.

Though I’ve only played the 3DS installments thus far, due to lack of accessibility to the early games, which I couldn’t be bothered to try when they were released. Did try the first GBA game to be ported over, but that ended up having the worst, most micromanaging tutorial I’ve ever seen, and thus I am incapable of completing the first level.

I know how to play video games, Fire Emblem. I am aware of the base concept of pressing A. Yeesh. You’re worse than modern Harvest Moon games!

I’ve also never gotten invested in military FPSs, as a mixture of finding the gameplay boring, difficulty mastering it, and mockery whenever I was roped into playing one with friends.[11] In general, I don’t like being in first person view, as I find it limiting to controls, and responding to things that get behind me is annoying, because I flail trying to find the source of damage, then die.

Though, with time, my avoidance has decreased. Portal has a first person camera, but in a mixture of a more puzzle focused game and excellent integration of tutorial into gameplay,[12] it takes an agitating limited camera and makes it very workable, while also teaching the player how to interact with a game in first person.

I also played a little Team Fortress 2, and now Overwatch. The difference with those two over, say, Modern Duty or whatever, is the tone. The two games are competitive, yes, but also light hearted and goofy. Death is cheap and non punishing, the addition of powers make character choice widely different and fun, and, when I do get a little frustrated, it’s very easy for me to take a breath say ‘It’s only a game’ and let it go. Which is important when playing video games, sometimes.

Because that’s what games should always be: entertainment. It’s why I don’t try and force myself through games I’m not enjoying or lose interest in (though obviously I do try and come back and finish the plot) and why I very rarely strive for 100% completion. Because I want to enjoy myself, not engage in tedious work.

It’s also why I don’t care about ESports. Because I don’t care about sports. People doing something very well doesn’t really appeal to me. High-level chess players aren’t interesting to watch or study, seeing two teams of muscled people charge one another isn’t fun, and fight scenes with the usual punching and kicking is dull.

Because, what I look for in most cases is novelty.

Seeing a master craftsman make a thing once can be interesting, just to see the process. See a master craftsman make the same thing a 100 times is uninteresting, because nothing new is happening. When it comes to sports and games, it’s more interesting to see novices play, because they mess up in interesting ways, spot and solve problems, and you get to sit back and go ‘Now, I would’ve done this.’

So, yeah, not a big fan of Counterstrike and League of Legends news, even besides the toxic communities.

Public perception of video games turned rather quick in my lifetime. It used to be such a niche hobby, enjoyed by nerds and children and so such. Yet… well times change, don’t they? Obviously children grew up and brought games along with them, but the hobby has expanded to become mainstream, a console being as necessary as a television, where those without are viewed as bizarre, despite it not being a physical need.[13] We all remember the children who noted their family doesn’t have a TV (or keep it in the closet), and I wonder if XBoxes have gained the same traction.[14]

If only tabletop games could get the same treatment.

Though I still wouldn’t be able to find a group, but still…

Now that I’m an employed adult, I have even more control over the games I play. Which means a Wii U and a custom built PC.

That I built myself, because I also enjoyed Lego as a child.

Between the two, I tend to have a wide enough net to catch the games that interest me. Sure, there’s still some PlayStation exclusives I’d love to try (Journey, Team ICO’s works, plenty of Tales games…)[15] but some of those games are slowly drifting over to Steam, and I already have a backlog, so I can wait it out.

That’s my stumbled musings about video games… Oh! I stream them! Over here! Watch me! I love to entertain and amuse!

Also maybe consider supporting me through patreon? Then I can put more resources into being amusing!

And share any thoughts you have. I’ll listen. Until then…

Kataal kataal.

[1] Did finish rereading Yotsuba&! but there’s nothing to say about besides “Read it!” [2] Certainly didn’t help me. [3] Though not Harvest Moon 64. One day, I will slay that whale. One day… [4] The rest are inherited after old friends leave. [5] Someone on Reddit commented its port to the Switch may help scratch the itch left by Rune Factory. They are, of course, dreadfully wrong. [6] I still dislike do rankings. [7] IE, I’m not a big fan of hallway-bound FPS games, but have played through the Half-Life series. Mostly for the connection to Portal. [8] I know it was in the ‘Renegade’ position, but I thought it’d be played as ‘I’ll risk losing the Shadow Broker to book this small fish’ sort of thing. I’m not very clever, okay?[9] [9] I actually never progressed much further than that. Perhaps it’ll be on CanvasPlays someday. [10] I don’t care if you have a list of subversions of this style, by the way. I really don’t. [11] I once annoyed a former friend for not knowing there’s an aim button. I didn’t know this, because I don’t play FPSs. [12] There’s a very nice Extra Credits about this somewhere. [13] Though as a cultural need… [14] Nintendo Consoles, of course and unfortunately, being considered the off-brand. [15] the PS3 port of Tides of Destiny. Yes, it’s a disgrace of a Rune Factory game, and it was also on the wii but… well, sometimes I’m an insane collector![16] [16] I don’t even need a PS3. I can get it used for, like, five bucks from GameStop…