#and I fell in love with that bug and changed my entire perception of the world because of my love for that bug

[lovealwayssay]

I just did some math and, if Cas is as old as the earth, his 12 years with Dean is equivalent to like 0.08 seconds in a human lifespan. That’s less than 1/10th of a second, shorter than the blink of an eye. He knew Dean for such a short amount of time compared to his entire existence and it was enough to fundamentally change everything about Cas and how he sees the world. That’s absolutely insane to me.

[laryna6]

I’m not going to start posting Lichverse yet even though I finished the novel because there’s worldbuilding stuff that needs to be changed after the reveal that Igris’ species are born from fruits of the world tree instead of being creations of the Monarchs as per monsters (or maybe the creator made monsters to serve the monarchs but canon doesn’t say so I can have fun) and also while I HAVE figured out when to have Jin-Woo’s chest open so people can see he has two hearts I haven’t given up on working in the creepy cute aesthetic and other stuff I want to do earlier.

Also the reveal that in previous timelines Ashborn zombie apocalypse’d humanity (probably bc we were too squishy to survive being ground zero and he couldn’t protect us so he wanted to gather our souls before we got slaughtered more painfully by other monarchs’ armies and ceased to exist - also bc needed larger army to fight other monarchs and keep Antares from killing him and all his shadows with him) as soon as he took over his new host body. So it makes sense that the rulers would ask a human to find a human host and like Il-Hwan would agree - his family lives in a major city. In the case of shadow blitzkreig, they’re all gonna get turned into undead mind-controlled into adoring Ashborn, nothx. Also the Architect didn’t want to pick Jin-Woo, Ashborn insisted, in times where Jin-Woo wasn’t Like That the Architect would have gotten to pick and would have picked an asshole. So Il-Hwan goes looking for the stuff an asshole would have done to level up in a setting where what happens in a dungeon... and then the monster who has repeatedly slaughtered Il-Hwan’s species like cattle is using his son as a host body.

So yeah, Dad has been highkey Suffering.

But, anyway, here’s the current draft of the first chapter of lichverse. Warning for like, canon-typical stuff + also frottage.

Abandoned by everyone, about to be crushed like a bug…

It seemed as though the stone blade paused for a moment, but maybe it was his perception of time slowing down as his death approached.

It was finally over. His sister… mother! The pain would stop… but Mother would die, and Sister… Sister would have to scrabble like he had. A teenage girl?

He’d sold his body to keep his mother alive. Jin-ah…

As the blade crashed down he fell and was caught. Was cradled.

Darkness… a soothing, cool darkness. No more pain, no more fear. But still… warm. This darkness didn’t have a beating heart, but still…

Jin-woo knew the heart of someone who had lost too much, far too much, and would do anything to protect the precious little they had left. He saw someone like that in the mirror, when he couldn’t avoid it.

This person… would never hurt him. Never let him be hurt. He was safe.

“Return to me,” he heard a voice he knew calling for him, and he knew he would always answer.

A black-armored figure before him, flickering with black and purple light. Too large to be human. A monster. A monster and still when Jin-woo found himself on his feet he took a step towards him gladly, eagerly. A step and another. This feeling… like when his Mom or Dad came home and called his name and he ran to them, happy to see them.

He stopped when he had to crane his head back almost painfully far to meet those glowing eyes – an undead – he was an undead…? And saw the concern in them. For him, for a weakling, for nothing, and he knew he was safe. He’d been so scared, everyone had left him to die alone. But someone… someone came. Someone saved him. The relief sent him to his knees as the last of the stress that had kept him on his feet for so long left him.

Slumping even further forward, he bowed his head and pressed against those armored legs. He trembled, the pain and fear he’d had to suppress for so long escaping his body. Day after day, knowing he was already far, far past his estimated life expectancy. Knowing he was going to die and it was going to hurt, and even if he lived he was going to hurt but he had no choice. There had been no choices since Mom was taken from them too.

And that great figure knelt and put a hand on his head.

That mana… it was terrifyingly powerful, but he knew why it didn’t terrify him. Something he’d tried not to think about for years: the moment he’d awakened, feeling mana, power all around him. Power that dwarfed his, could crush him. But it had never even occurred to him to feel fear, because this was his father. Of course his father was the strongest! Of course he would save everyone!

Instead he’d been so happy, running to his dad and saying he could be a hunter now! Like him! They could beat the bad guys together! And his Dad had patted him on the head and said, “Sorry, but you have to wait until you’re a little older before you can fight anything, and by that time I’ll have already beaten the bad guys that are making the gates appear. So you’ll never have to fight.”

“I won’t get to fight?” he’d asked, disappointed.

“Sorry,” his dad said, patting his head apologetically, but not sorry at all.

His dad… they hadn’t invented the measuring technology until a year after he vanished, so Jin-woo didn’t know how strong he was. It wasn’t until Mother was spending long enough asleep that Jin-woo could go get measured after school that he found out why his dad had fought so hard to keep him from ever having to hunt. He’d been proud of his Dad, believed he would have been an s-class, but… would an s-class really have had such a worthless son? But the mana in his memory, it was so much stronger than the a-class he’d seen once.

His father… His dad really was… tears fell from his eyes, and that hand remained to steady him, that mana still cradled him, as pathetic as he was.

He didn’t know how long he cried there, with loss and pain and fear and gratitude. No one… no one since Mother would have held him as he cried. He couldn’t burden Jin-ah or a stranger like that. If someone reported he wasn’t able to provide for Jin-ah…

That made him open his eyes. “Jin-ah…” he said, a plea. Part of him knowing that this person – monster – would understand how precious she was, how he couldn’t bear to fail her.

“You can return to her,” a deep voice promised him. That… the monster language. Was he still speaking Korean?

“Monsters attack humans,” he said, looking down at his hands, how they flickered with darkness too.

“Because they’re controlled by the Ruler’s crystals… but even without them the subjects of most Monarchs would see your kind as resources to exploit.”

Food.

That hand withdrew and the glowing figure shrunk until he met his own eyes, heard his own voice – speaking Korean this time. “You don’t need to be afraid. You know you will never hurt your sister. Or any of those you love.”

“I won’t hurt her?” he asked again, craving reassurance like a child. Like a weakling (the weakest of the weak).

“Never,” he was promised again, without a trace of irritation at having to repeat himself in his voice.

“I shouldn’t believe you.” Shouldn’t take that risk, with Jin-ah.

“Believe yourself.” This time he was scolded a little. “You went out there to die for her, over and over. You would never hurt her.”

It meant nothing that he went to hunt because it really didn’t do anything… he’d fail her eventually, and then she’d… “I failed her.”

“That was…” the other him – monster – the one who cared for him sighed. “That was my fault. I watched you, and how hard you fought to protect them, the wounds you bore… There was someone I wanted to protect. I fought knowing I would fail them, and yet… but you haven’t failed those you love. I am here because of all your struggle, all your pain and sacrifice.” A bottle appeared, was pressed into his hands. “I watched, I saw you, earn this a thousand times over. With this, you can cure your mother.”

Jin-woo drew in a breath, looking up with startled hope. The other him nodded, and he felt the promise. “You won’t have to be afraid anymore. You’re one of mine now. A human would have to gradually adjust to higher mana levels, but as a shadow I can fill you with my power. That wasn’t…” he sighed. “I was going to possess you, but when the Architect began to cast the curse meant to bring about your death, I couldn’t let him. …but I didn’t have enough of a foothold in that dimension to keep the stone from crushing you.” He scowled at himself. “I should have waited until you were safe, then killed the Architect and undone his curse. I have not done right by you. I’m sorry. You deserve better than than what happened to you. The least I owe you is making sure you can return to your life and your loved ones.”

Jin-woo’s eyes widened. An apology? An admission of fault? A being even stronger than his father, lowering itself to apologize to him? A nothing? The weakest of the weak?

Why? Who could force him to do it? Even S-ranks were beyond the law. He didn’t gain anything from it: his power could crush Jin-woo so easily, and if he could shape-shift then he could take Jin-woo’s place as he’d said he’d planned or maybe send another undead?

His hands curled around the bottle, pulling it to his chest as he began to believe it was real. Because the only reason he could see for this monster to apologize was if, if he really did think that Jin-woo deserved better. And if he deserved anything, then his mother deserved to wake, to live.

“The dungeon will close with the Architect dead. You need to return there and escape, or it will take some time for me to get another foothold in the human world and transport you there. My br-the Rulers are doing their best to shield it.”

He had to hurry. His mother… if it took too long they would take her off life support, and for her to die now, because he didn’t bring her the cure in time…

His mirror image nodded. “Go.”

That mana curled around him, bore him elsewhere, and he heard stone groan and topple to the ground a moment before he opened his eyes to find himself on the altar. Oh no, his foot…

His leg was still there!

…Why was he so surprised by that, when his entire body had been crushed, and yet here he was, intact even if he flickered with black and purple. He started to push himself up so he could get off the altar only for the altar to crumble beneath his palm. He stared down at it.

“…Ah. Humans wield strength only through channeling mana, but as a shadow the strength I’ve given you is yours. Until you can learn to control it, there are artifacts that seal all but a fraction of someone’s power, for negotiations. If I give you a few of them… and I know the curse the Architect designed, perhaps I can modify it…”

A window, like on a computer screen? Appeared before Jin-woo, then changed to show equipment? He felt weight after weight settle on him, then become as light as a feather, as thought it had vanished entirely.”

“The closest I can come is still half again as strong as you were before.”

He was stronger than before and this person was apologizing for it? At any time that thought would have stunned him, but how people treated him didn’t matter, not next to what he held in his hands. “That’ll only make me faster,” JIn-woo said, desperate to go.

The window swung out of his way and he jumped down off the altar. Out of the corner of his eye he saw it change once, then again. A bunch of squares. Inventory, it said? Two rows of those squares filled up with a graphic of.. he looked down. The same bottle he held. And in the lower right corner of the image of that bottle? x999

Was that… a thousand of these bottles per square? A potion that could cure Eternal Slumber? They, they’d be rich! He’d never have to run a dungeon again!

“With your power sealed like this, you’re vulnerable. I’ll send you Igris.” He felt another flare of mana, and a red-armored figure kept pace with him easily. “He has been my right hand since long before I became the Shadow Monarch.”

That feeling… Like Jin-ah. ‘One of the few precious people I have left.’

“He will protect you as if you were me.” Jin-woo turned his head to see an image of his mirror image running beside him. The other nodded to Ignes, who nodded in return.

Next to the other Jin-woo saw the status window. His status window. “So I am an undead… You can bring back the dead?” he realized belatedly. “My, my father…”

“He’s not dead,” the other told him. “He was the vessel of one of the fragments of brilliant light, he wouldn’t have died within a space they control unless there was a monarch there, and I’m keeping track of all of them.”

Jin-woo froze, skidded to a halt. “He’s not…” He trembled. His mother, enough money to secure Jin-ah’s future, even… even his father…

“I will try to find him, but I can’t promise anything.”

Jin-woo shook his head quickly before the other could apologize. Even a chance his father could come home, that he, his mother could see him again! “Yours,” he swore. “I’m yours.” Anything, for this. He sold his life and death and pain over and over just to buy time. To have, to have his family… His soul wasn’t enough. He could never repay this.

Was this why a part of him had felt nothing but devotion towards the other as soon as he fell into has grasp? Had he sensed this in the mana? Or not even this, just… the kindness that made someone willing to give him so much, to give a nothing like him…

“You are not nothing,” the other him insisted as Jin-woo fell to his knees, his gratitude overwhelming him again. “Igris.”

Igris scooped him up easily as breathing, and practically flew to the dungeon exit, carefully placing him on his feet, steadying him the way the other and holding him up when Jin-woo tried to go to his knees again.

“You do not kneel before me,” the other told him. “You never have to kneel before me.”

“But…” but then what could he give? What could he offer? He looked at him with desperation.

“I need you,” he was promised. “I need for your will to protect your family. But I’ll explain later. You should be with your family now.” The other him – the one who felt the same desperate wish to protect – looked down at Jin-woo’s shadow and it filled with hundreds of eyes. “You and your sister should get to see your crea- Your mother again. That’s… You should get to have that.”

And Jin-woo knew that the other would never get to have that, never again.

“You won’t fail them,” his other promised him, forceful and desperate and yearning, and Jin-woo heard you won’t fail them the way I did. “We can talk later, there’s time. Take him home, Igris.”

And giant arms held Jin-woo tight until he found himself in front of his apartment door.

He scrambled for his keys, turned them, flung the door open – half again as strong – “Jin-ah!”

“Jin-woo?” he heard her throw herself out of bed, scramble for her bedroom door and through the living room. “JIn-woo? Are you okay?” she asked him.

That wasn’t important. “Mom,” he said, holding open his arms. “Igris, can you take us both?” Red darkness tried to rise from his shadow but the hall was too small and Igris was forced to appear outside. “I found something that can cure Mom.”

Jin-ah stared at him, mouth slipping open as if to ask him if he was serious but he would never say that unless he was. When she could move, she flung herself at him. As a hunter he could already lift her easily, but it wasn’t just his strength that made everything feel so light right now. “Igris… do you know where she is?”

The red-armored giant shook his head.

“I can give you directions.” He went out the door and Igris lifted them both as if they weighed nothing.

“is he a summon?” Jin-ah asked, breathless. “A healer’s summon? Are they going to cure Mom?”

“That way.” A blur, and when Igris was still again, Jin-woo said, “Sort of? I don’t know how to explain, I want to get to Mom. That way.”

Jin-ah didn’t interrupt again, vibrating with eagerness. She didn’t want to make this take any extra time either.

“That window, there,” JIn-woo said when they were outside of the hospital. Igris sat them down, swept his cloak over them and there they were, in the room.

Jin-woo lifted up the bottle to look at it and a window with a description and directions appeared next to it. She just had to drink the entire bottle? That easy? They were that close? He dodged around Jin-ah to get to the bed, then stopped, forced himself to go slow, to open her mouth carefully. He was stronger than before. He couldn’t hurt her, not like this. Not when they were this close.

A progress bar. Lists of ailments – muscular atrophy, eternal sleep… And everything finished counting down as Jin-ah shook him and asked, “Is it working? Is it working?”

And then she opened her eyes. “Jin-woo…” A moment more, an intake of breath, “Jin-ah?” he saw his mother realize how long it must have been. “Then…” He saw her look past them. He knew who she looked for, who she had watched for for so long.

“He’s alive,” he told her. “He’s alive and I’ll bring him home, I promise.” He could make a promise like that, as weak and pathetic as he was, because he had help.

He saw her look at him and frown, the way she’d frowned when she found out he was doing dungeons. The, ‘Are you kidding me? I’m an adult, we take care of things. Your job is to stay safe and study.’

Study… those potions, they had money, he wouldn’t have to do low-level dungeon runs.

His other self needed him for something and Jin-woo would make it happen no matter what, do anything for the person who gave him this. But… tomorrow wouldn’t be like today. Tomorrow his mother would be home.

A nurse finally arrived, her head downcast and shoulders slumped, and he saw her look up, then stare when she saw his Mother sitting up instead of lying there dead. “I found potions in a dungeon,” Jin-woo told her to forestall questions. “I’ll give you five of them if you let us leave, now.”

“My clothes…?” Mom asked the nurse.

The nurse blinked, “Ah, we returned your clothes to your family…” Because they’d known she was never leaving that bed.

And Jin-woo hadn’t brought anything. He went to the window, yanked it open, jumped out. “Igris?” he asked, then hesitated. He’d just ordered around something – someone – so powerful? Was that really okay? But Igris appeared and swept his cloak over Jin-woo again, and Jin-woo found himself in the entryway at home.

He’d forgotten to even close the door, let alone lock it. Clothes! Right, his mom’s clothes! He threw some of everything into a bag, then ran out and looked up at Igris hopefully. “Thank you,” he said as the cloak swept over him again, putting him in the hospital room.

The fact he’d screwed up by forgetting clothes for his Mom… That was, that was the kind of thing that happened in real life. This was, this was real. He dumped the bag out on Mom’s bed, throwing the clothes down hard enough to make the mattress bounce a little. “Sorry,” he said, but found himself grinning. He hadn’t… He hadn’t failed them

They were okay.

He…

Anything.

Anything.

He’d do anything for them. For this. Maybe he’d been turned into a monster, maybe he was going to be used to kill humans, but who cared as long as Jin-ah and Mom were okay?

He wanted the inventory screen open and it was. Reached and pulled five bottles out, one after another, as the nurse pulled over a curtain so Mom could get dressed.

“They just have to drink it all, every drop,” he told the nurse. “That’s it.”

“Potions are a thing now?” his Mom asked from behind the curtain.

Questions.

Oh shit.

Um.

He did not give a damn what was up with the other him or exactly how dead he was or anything like that, but he could not tell Mom that he died. He was not going to do that to her.

“I think Jin-woo reawakened and he’s a spatial mage now, Mom,” Jin-ah said helpfully. “Pulling those out of thin air is spatial magic, and he’s got a summon that can teleport us.”

She didn’t mention the flickering black and purple at all? Not that Jin-woo was going to bring up anything else he’d have to explain! It seemed ungrateful to claim that Igris was his summon, take credit for everything the other him had done, but it was better than making them worry.

The mana that was in Jin-woo now wasn’t his, but it felt like it could have been his, because the feelings in it… they were all feelings he knew. A lot of them too well. Someone so powerful wasn’t ‘another him,’ but… there were things that were the same. They were akin? Kind of like family.

So he said, “Igris can take us home.” They could be home, instead of having to wait torturous minutes on the subway. For him and Jin-ah it had been too long since Mom had been home. He needed to see her there, and then he’d be able to believe a little more that this was real.

But it helped, when she came out from behind the curtain. It helped so much when she wrapped her arms around him.

When they were home at last one of them wanted to go to sleep. Jin-woo desperately didn’t want his mom to go to sleep, but eventually she told them to get to bed and they went.

Shit. Did he have a bedtime again? He wouldn’t have to ride on public transit out to gates?

…when had he last gotten eight straight hours of sleep?

He’d been trying not to think about it. But he’d known. That he was wearing thinner and thinner. That it was only his youth letting him get away with how hard he was pushing himself. That he couldn’t keep this up forever.

…He lay down in bed and realized he didn’t feel tired at all.

…Did he need to sleep anymore? Mom had fed them, so he knew he could eat, but did he need to? He raised his hand to look at it. How energy flickered around it, but the hand itself didn’t flicker, as though he was solid or real or alive.

Thank goodness he still had body heat, or Mom and Jin-ah would have noticed when they hugged him.

…when had he last been hugged?

He wanted the menu thing open again. The status page. Sung Jin-woo the Enduring. General-class Shadow, Lvl. Max.

Shadow, was that what he was? Igris had appeared out of and vanished into his shadow sometimes, he recalled. ‘General…’ was… so he would need to fight. Something about protecting humans? If that wasn’t a lie.

He knew it wasn’t a lie. His hand went to his heart.

But he wasn’t an idiot, and things too good to be true… There had to be a catch somewhere. The fact he was so certain, the way he loved the other him the way he’d only loved Jin-ah, his mother and his father… He didn’t trust people like this. They knew he was worthless (he was worthless), so they treated him like that and he knew they were going to treat him that way.

But… someone who hadn’t wanted him to die… like his father had wanted to protect him, like his mother had wanted to take care of him, like Jin-ah had decided to be a doctor because she wanted to get better at patching him up… Someone who apologized to him like he was worth apologizing to.

The way his mom had apologized to him for being gone so long, for putting so much on his shoulders. She told him he was strong, was amazing, for bearing it, for doing so well.

In his status screen. ‘The Enduring,’ like he was worthy of a title, of anything.

The other him was something from the gates. That meant a monster. An enemy of humanity. But the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he could trust him. Like family.

Jin-woo frowned.

…No, Dad would absolutely not have had a kid with a monster or something. He felt like he needed to say sorry even for thinking that.

“Igris?” he asked, and the knight appeared, sitting next to his bed in order to fit in his bedroom. “How do I talk to him again? Should I go inside a gate?”

Igris shook his head and raised his cloak again, tilting his head questioningly.

Jin-woo got into a sitting position and nodded. “Thanks, Igris.”

Instead of tensing up he relaxed when he found himself in the darkness, surrounded by the other him’s power. When he saw him. “Thank you,” he said. “I can’t ever thank you enough.”

The other him shook his head. “I’m glad you could have that. Your family, safe for now. I’m glad I was able to help bring it about. There’s still someone missing. I’m limited in what I can do without revealing I’m active. I’m sure the Rulers know since they’ve been using the blood they shed to time-travel, but the monarchs… The Architect was still willing to work with me, but the instant they realize I won’t help them loot your world they’ll go back to trying to make me stay dead.”

“Can they?” Sung Jin-woo asked, eyes widening. Could he lose this person? He couldn’t… to have a chance at having everyone home, and then lose the person who made it possible…

“No power is limitless. Even that of our creator.” The other him touched his replica of Jin-woo’s chest.

“…Do you have a name?” Jin-woo asked, to change the subject. Even if it sounded like he’d need to know about that eventually, he didn’t want the other him to have to try to explain it when there was so much Jin-woo didn’t know that an explanation wouldn’t help when he didn’t have the context for it.

“Ashborn, now. The Monarch of Shadows.”

“So I’m a shadow, and my class is General?”

“Not a class, but a rank.” Ashborn was silent a moment and then said, as though confessing. “Igris’ counterpart was trapped inside a barrier in the last battle. She couldn’t return to my shadow when her body was destroyed and her mana was torn apart. Unless you’re trapped in such a barrier, I’ll be able to bring you back no how many times your new bodies are destroyed. I sent Igris with you in case one of the humans hosting the power of the rulers finds you and realizes you’re mine. He can summon himself, but I must teach you how to quickly remove the limiters reducing your power and call your forces from your shadow.” He waved at the eyes gazing up at Jin-woo from his shadow. Or what pretended to be a normal shadow. “Once you know that much, it should be safe to let you return to the human world. For now. Once you have a serviceable knowledge of necromancy, Igris will teach you to dodge-tank, and after that you can choose your own combat training.”

“So I’ll be fighting?” Jin-woo asked.

“I’m sorry,” Ashborn said, as though that was anything to apologize for. “You will be attacked by all sides for being one of mine.”

And Jin-woo felt Ashborn’s pain in his mana, the pain of an old wound. How many of his had Ashborn lost…?

“But you’re good at surviving,” Ashborn told him, rallying. “I hope… Humans are so peaceful.”

There was soft longing in Ashborn’s voice, so Jin-woo didn’t say anything like, ‘what planet are you from?’ Jin-woo had attended that much school. Even before the gates, humans had huge wars and shit. But if idealizing humanity gave him something to hope for, then Jin-woo wasn’t going to burst his bubble.

“Compared to us,” Ashborn added, and Jin-woo realized that Ashborn’s mana was flowing through him and back into Ashborn. Right. So Ashborn would know his emotions too. “You hope that Jin-ah will never have to fight, not even to defend herself. The fact that you consider this a possibility… But I will show you how to assign her bodyguards.”

Trying to find out what exactly Ashborn wanted from him so he could deliver it on a silver platter could happen later. Protecting Jin-ah? He needed to know how to do that now.

“I will send an army with you, and show you how to summon them. If they are killed, they can be revived again and again, as long as you have mana. Let me give you this, to be sure you won’t be left unprotected.” A still beating black heart appeared in Ashborn’s hands, bleeding white flames.

He stepped forward. He’d had his ribs cut open before. For Mom, for Jin-Ah. Ashborn could do whatever he wanted to Jin-Woo, and he’d just be grateful he could be useful to the person who saved him. Who chose him.

But those hands and the heart just passed through his chest like a ghost’s, and there was no pain, just warmth in his body like drinking a hot cup of coffee on a cold night, and Ashborn’s mana flooding into him now that he could hold so much more of it. “Ah… Ah…” he gasped for breath, feeling that care melt him away, filling him so full it felt like he couldn’t take anymore and then something in him gave way – opened, and he jerked, head flung back, and panted even harder when there was more, the warmth in his chest and the butterflies in his stomach sparking heat that drove him to take a stumbling step forward. Seeking Ashborn, needing him. So amazed at arms around him, someone holding him up, helping him stand and he needed Ashborn. He’d needed someone, so desperate for so long, knowing no one cared but Jin-Ah and he’d die to keep her from having to bear this.

He craved Ashborn desperately, two hearts pounding in his chest loud enough to drown out all other sound.

For so long he’d felt so empty, so numb to everything but the pain of survival and dread of the inevitable, but now he was full, full of love and he wanted, wanted more, wanted to drink down more of what Ashborn gave him and drown in it, drown in him. He pressed against him, panting against his lips, moving his hips as he tried to bury himself inside the body that matched his – Ashborn thought he was pretty enough for it to be worth wearing that face himself, even if Jin-Woo didn’t have the money for plastic surgery and that was one more reason it was impossible to find a job that paid well enough to replace hunting.

Fire filled his veins and only Ashborn could quench it, and his liege held Jin-woo, warm arms around him, warm body against him, giving him everything he needed, letting him have everything he wanted, and more.

More and more, and then without warning white fire burned everything away.

When it receded, Ashborn was still holding him in his arms. “I could feel that you were alright, but you sounded like you were in pain.”

“It was good…” he moaned, hips jerking again, and then horror tried to penetrate through the warm lassitude. Had he just, just rubbed himself off against, against… the one he owed everything?! “I’m sorry!”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should apologize. I knew Baran conceived when his battle-lust reached its peak, I just didn’t realize that the pounding of his heart was connected.”

“Con- con-“

“The Monarchs and Rulers were made capable of bringing forth armies. I… After… I am no longer capable of that. All I can do is preserve what’s left of my children, and shelter the fallen children of others.”

“Am I….?!!” A terrified shriek escaped Jun-Woo.

“I thought your body wasn’t the type that created children?” Ashborn looked down at where their bodies were joined. “Your mother and Jin-Ah are the same type and you’re a different type, yes? Or was it your Dad who created the children and that’s why no more workers were produced to help support the hive after he left?”

“I’m an undead now, so, um…” He buried his head in his hands, feeling really stupid, and in front of Ashborn. He wanted to die. Again.

But Ashborn still held him, Ashborn’s affection and admiration for him still poured through him.

“I’m sorry,” he said though.

“I think it’s admirable, how dedicated you are to taking care of your family. Of course you would want to be sure you hadn’t created a child when you’re still learning to control your own strength and might not be able to protect them.”

Like when people assumed he was some kind of thrill-seeking idiot, Jin-Woo thought ‘I could explain, but I don’t want to have that conversation,” and kept his mouth shut.

[magaprima]

In the scene in the freezer, when Sabrina is out of time and needs to sort Lucy and Jimmy out, Lilith says “I’ll see to the girl” and reaches out to Lucy, encouraging not just Sabrina to hand her over, but for the girl to come to her. 

It’s a very natural movement and I’ve talked about the fact that when Lilith was created, she was made with the intent to be what Eve eventually was the All Mother and the All Wife, so maternal instinct will be written into the very fabric of her being. It’s just Lilith acknowledge being naturally maternal doesn’t mean you have to be  Mother, that you have to engage it, she rejected it and through her time in Hell and time with Lucifer and over the millennia learned that maternity is viewed as weakness and used against you so she repressed it into non-existence. But it does come out in moments such as when she’s acting as Principal, when she’s with Sabrina, and now here with Lucy, where she has even put her hand around her to draw her close. 

Lucy is already clinging to her and Lilith hasn’t even noticed. Primarily, because she’s fully focused on Sabrina, but also because, as I said, she was created with this in mind and that instinct is in her whether she acknowledges it or not (in the same way, babies and kids do love me, I’m naturally great with them. But I currently have no desire for children at all, and I will only willingly look after little girls. Little boys are a no-no because the chaos and noise and sports-focused habits are not being brought into my life. Yet, left with one, I’d probably do a good job. Instinct does not equal desire. So what we’re seeing here is instinct). 

She’s even holding Lucy in return, keeping her hands around her, and it’s only when Sabrina leaves that she suddenly realises ‘wait, there’s a child attached to me’ because it didn’t feel unnatural until she noticed it. And that’s when you get this moment because she’s now conscious of the child and everything in her conscious instinct rather than subconscious rejects it

Also as an extra note I love when the kid looks up at her and they meet each other’s eyes and Lilith’s expression does not change at all. She retains the ‘a bug has attached itself to me, please do not imprint on me and act like I’m your mother’ kind of look 

 But Lucy is entirely unfazed because, by the time Lilith has wiped her memory of being in there (’all she remembers is eating ice cream and then you’) and gotten her back to her home, the child is STILL holding onto her tightly. Lucy clearly sees Lilith as a safe adult, as a grown up who is going to help her, who is the only motherly figure in the nearest vicinity and so clings to her until she finds her actual mother. Children are more perceptive than adults, and kids, tend to draw away from people who have bad energy, they can’t explain it or understand it, they just know they don’t want to be near this particular person. Lucy clearly feels no such thing with Lilith, quite the opposite in fact, and I think that says a lot about the kind of person Lilith originally was. 

Lilith is not touching the kid at all by the time she drops her off. She is going out of her way not to touch her. Part of me feels this is because that unconscious instinct, that maternity she was originally created with, can be felt by Lilith herself if she gets too close to the child, even simply by hugging her, and so she avoids it at all costs. It’s not just the ‘ew mortal child’, it’s also ‘I refuse to feel things’. She knows the traps of getting attached (Sabrina, Adam, the Fright Club) and she ain’t gonna let this child get under her skin either, so she keeps herself from making any connection at all. And just hands the child off to her Mother like she’s a handbag ‘I believe this is yours’. And goes to leave

Only she doesn’t...she hangs back and watches the Mother and child hug. 

She really watches them and it’s not with a hateful or bored or disgusted expression. She’s genuinely watching them being reunited and seems to be considering it. 

Considering the fact that her work means these two are reunited, considering the mother and daughter hugging each other tightly (as Lilith as absolutely no one who would ever be that relieved to have her back. She’s looking at something she doesn’t have in any shape or form and perhaps even wonders at it or laments it) and then it’s yet again that case, as it was in the exorcism episode, where Lilith is being genuinely thanked for something. Her actions are being appreciated, and that is something that always emotionally reaches Lilith. 

Which leads me to the pre torture scene

“But I’m not sure how much use you’ll get out of his body once I’m through”

Lilith is personally taking on the job of torturing him. She’s not assigning it. She says ��once i’m through’ not we’re or they’re, but I’m, and I think that’s significant, especially as she’s also implying she will torture him to the point of being unrecognisable, not even worthy as a flesh bag. I feel like Lilith has taken this case a bit more personally, just as Sabrina has, and I do believe it’s because of her brief time with Lucy and seeing how relieved her Mother was. As I said, Lilith doesn’t have anyone at all who cares about her that way, and the way she attached herself to Adam 2.0 and the way she fell in love with him because he cared about her that way, shows it is something she misses, and it was something she briefly enjoyed with Lucifer in the beginning. She’s had it twice and lost it twice, and so I feel this whole Lucy returned to her Mother thing has struck a chord with her...hence her place to personally see to Jimmy’s torment. 

And now, onto the way I feel this is foreshadowing for the pregnancy storyline. 

This scene is all about Lilith having the responsibility of a child she doesn’t want. The pregnancy is basically Lilith having the responsibility of a child she doesn’t want. The child’s name is Lucy, which is apposite considering Lucifer can be shortened to Luci, and is nice foreshadowing for the baby being Lucifer’s. 

Yet, what we see is despite Lilith not wanting this responsibility, she does well with it. Lucy seems to like her (Even the Mother says that Lucy just remembers Lilith rescuing her so obviously made an impression) and certainly likes her enough to hug her, showing physical affection, and even though Lilith consciously rejects it, there’s obviously something that effects her, because of the way she looks at the pair of them and her plans to torture Jimmy. 

So is this what we’re to expect from the child storyline. Even though undesired, are we going to see that Lilith does well with it? Are we going to see that despite her stand-offishness and resentment, the child in question is going to be attached as Lucy was, and that the way Lucy was with her Mother, two people who actually care more about each other to not give a shit about everyone else essentially, is that something Lilith is going to have in a permanent way that previously? And Lilith planning to torture Jimmy personally, is that foreshadowing for how violently defensive/protective Lilith will be? Hopefully against Lucifer. I think it’s interesting that Lucy and her Mother seem to be a single parent only child family, because that’s essentially what Lilith will be. 

People often think of Mother as being a softer role-- loving, gentle protector. But they forget that a Mother will burn cities to keep their child safe. I mean that whole ‘do you save five strangers or one loved one’ question where you’re supposed to say five stranger? My Mum openly said once ‘I’m sorry, but if you were in danger, fuck those strangers. I’m sorry but they can burn in that building. I’m getting you’. Being a Mother can be a great strength not a great weakness and is this not only what we’re going to see as an audience, but something Lilith will discover for herself. I mean Joyce Summers knocked a vampire out with a fucking axe to protect her daughter and she was a mere human who had no clue what was going on. Lilith is the Mother of Demons, First Witch and Rightful Queen of Hell: what levels of strength and fight will she discover through this new part of her life. 

I’d personally love if this foreshadowing to show the child is not going to be Lucifer’s heir, but Lilith’s. And instead will be Lucifer’s undoing. 

[lonesomealley]

Borderlands 3 Review

*Writer’s Note: I played this game when it came out and have based my review on the version of the game that I played then. Some of this information may become outdated with time. 

DISCLAIMER: This review is going to contain a lot of spoilers for Borderlands 3, if you don’t want that then this is not the review for you. My overall opinion of this game is that it’s… okay. It entirely depends on what you value out of a video game. Borderlands 3 is, at heart, just another Borderlands that’s been somewhat dumbed down, and if you don’t like the Borderlands series’ base mechanics (i.e. farming, constantly throwing away weak gear, getting stomped on for being underleveled) then this is not the game for you. If you value storytelling in your video games, this game is absolutely not the game for you. However if you’re someone who just wants to shoot some guys and already like, or think you’ll like, Borderlands’ looting systems then this game is going to range anywhere from okay to good. It should be kept in mind that this review is meant to take into account many of the different aspects of the game, hence why this review is going to have a far lower score than many other reviewers/media publications seem to be rewarding it.

I don’t really know if Borderlands 3 is worth the $60 asking price, and I would ultimately say to either wait for the game to go on sale or at least wait for it to go up on Steam. This is because the game really is just a dumbed down Borderlands entry, you could easily just go buy the Handsome Collection for $60 (if you haven’t already) and have just as good, even better, of a time. Also that Steam has more laid back refund policies than the Epic Store (which can be blamed for this review existing in the first place). But this is where the spoiler free section ends, anything past this point will contain heavy spoilers for the sake of in depth discussion. You have been warned.

When the Borderlands 3 reveal trailer came out back in March I was entirely skeptical that the game would be anything good. The story looked like a mess, the guns looked like complete shit, and overall it appeared that a lot of the things they were promising on were too good to be true or would end up simplified. Also, at the time I had just played through the entirety of the existing Borderlands series (excluding Tales From the Borderlands), so this new game was going to have to spike a certain chord with me. This definitely wasn’t helped by the “additions” that they tried to make to those games such as second game’s graphics enhancements, and the Borderlands 1 remaster. The former, while making the game look prettier, had the problem of cutting off cross platform play (across PC, Mac, Linux, etc.) which left a small crowd of people very disappointed. And the latter had the issue of being a complete load of garbage with many of the same bugs, new performance issues, clunkier menus, new menus not working, and of course Gearbox’s patented golden chest. They pulled a BL2 and just gave you OP guns at the beginning of the game as to make the beginning area more trivial than it already was. And if that wasn’t bad enough, they suited you out with 75 golden keys for connecting your shift account, meaning that you could destroy any sense of value the guns originally had.

There was also the new BL2 dlc that was meant to tie the game into BL3’s story. However I can safely say that after having played through BL3, this dlc’s campaign in no way whatsoever connects these two games together. I guess at best it explains how Sanctuary fell, but that in of itself has a lot of problems. You get attacked by some Dahl commander (who has never been brought up in the story before) where he infects Sanctuary, and by further extension Pandora, with this plant virus. Your job is to kill this guy and stop the plant virus. There is no motivation established for this guy besides that he wants to make Pandora into some paradise, and the story has absolutely no effect on BL3 at all. The crew was already set on going to outer space, this invasion only served to speed up this process. To further this claim, there is no mention of this dlc’s events in BL3 and Pandora is still the same sandy hell scape that it normally is.

Which finally brings us to Borderlands 3. A game that feels surprisingly devoid of passion and love despite how much effort went into it. A game that feels like there wasn’t enough time to flesh out ideas. A game owned by a company who sold out to Epic for money- let’s get a couple of things out of the way first. 1. Borderlands 3 isn’t an entirely bad game per se. 2. I have relatively no issue with the game being an Epic exclusive and my opinion is not biased or soured due to Randy Pitchford’s constant fuck ups.

However, that doesn’t mean that I don’t outright despise Gearbox and 2K for their actions. They take an exclusivity deal with Epic which actively disrupts consumer convenience and confidence in purchasing their product (not a big deal). But then they have the audacity to push this game out in the buggy, unpolished, and unoptimized state that its currently in (kind of a big deal). The menus are buggy on a basic, functional level, the performance tanks constantly, and items would quite literally disappear out of thin air from my inventory. All of these made Borderlands 3 just that much more of a painstaking experience to play through.

It was the unpolished game and the Borderlands’ trademark shitty introductory area that made me want to refund the game. And believe me, I tried to refund the game. Unfortunately I got denied my refund because I had accidentally played over 2 hours of the game, when the Epic client doesn’t even show your playtime. So ultimately I had no choice but to play this game in order to get my 60 dollars worth. In that time I learned that this game is exactly like the other Borderlands games. Right down to the pacing and the disappointing endings. The beginning of Borderlands 3 is a complete slog. You’re just slapped down on Pandora and have to suffer through Clap Trap’s “hilarious” writing and get formally introduced to the mechanics of a Borderlands game for the 4th time now. Gearbox has apparently never figured out that people really hate playing through the beginning of their games because it refuses to give the players a skip tutorial option or a way to just outright bypass the introduction. Now I will say that this introduction isn’t as bad as BL2 or The Presequel, but it's certainly nowhere near good either.

The problem with these introduction areas is that they aren’t engaging or really even play into the story in any meaningful way. In BL3, you arrive out of thin air on Pandora and are forcefully met up with Lilith and the Crimson Raiders so that you can prepare to take off into space. Between meeting up and going into space you’ll be doing menial tasks such as fixing Marcus’ shops, getting a basic vehicle, and doing some really boring boss fights. Your motive for killing these bosses is because Lilith is on the hunt for the vault map. That thing that they had in BL2, how did they lose it? Nevermind that because it’s just sitting with Mouthpiece, a painfully easy boss that expects no brain power out of you other than just avoid the giant speakers that go boom. Apparently it was in Vaughn’s possession before he was betrayed by his Sun Smasher clan in return for good boy points from the Calypsos. Why the Crimson Raiders thought it would be a good idea to leave the map with Vaughn beats me, but I can safely say that this theme of Vaughn being a complete fuck up is consistent throughout the entirety of BL3.

Vaughn at best feels like a comedic relief character, and at worst feels like padding. This character has no important role throughout the story, just plainly isn’t a funny character, and comes across as a complete waste of space. He could literally just disappear from the entire game and nothing would change. You (luckily) don’t even see him for most of the game because his ass is left back on Pandora to do…  something. I’ve heard that Vaughn is a far better character in Tales from the Borderlands, however as I haven’t played that game I cannot say for certain whether or not Gearbox really just dropped the ball on this one. Vaughn also isn’t the only character I have this opinion of, however as I am still discussing the game’s intro I feel that I should hold off until later.

So after you acquire the vault map and experience a “high stakes” encounter with the Calysos, Lilith loses her siren powers. I feel like this was supposed to be some big, “Oh shit,” moment but I have to express that I simply don’t care for Lilith’s character and people who are new to the Borderlands series won’t care either. Lilith is not necessarily a “good guy” in Borderlands. She has done some fucked up things that have drastically changed the overarching plotline and a lot of people’s perception of her both in the story and by players experiencing it. In The Pre-Sequel, she is framed as being the reason for Handsome Jack’s insanity as Lilith literally branded a vault symbol onto his face. In the epilogue of TPS she actively commands a firing squad to gun down Athena after she tells her story in its entirety, completely against the judgement of her colleagues. And she makes incredibly rash decisions in BL2 that causes detrimental results for the crimson raiders such as being captured by Handsome Jack after being explicitly told not to come to Angel’s prison that greatly changes the dynamic of the story. These are only a couple examples, and I could keep going, but the point is that I don’t value Lilith as an entirely productive or a beneficially proactive member of the Crimson Raiders. And new players who have never played Borderlands before literally won’t even know who Lilith is or why she is even important. Hence when Lilith loses her siren powers after a pretty pathetic fight with the Calypsos, I can really only roll my eyes and just go with it.

From here the story relatively picks up and becomes a bit more bearable (but not really), however I don’t want a couple thousand words of this review to be about the story. Overall it’s trash, and I’m going to try my best to summarize just why it’s trash. Firstly is that the Borderlands writers might be writing for way too many characters. Seriously you have: ProZ-oh I mean Flak, Amara, Zane, Moze, Vaughn, Lilith, Brick, Mordecai, Tiny Tina, Ellie, Tannis, Marcus, Zero, Rhys, Lorelei, Aurelia, Hammerlock, Typhon Deleon, The Calypsos, Katagawa, Bosses also have some writing with them, Ava, Rhys, holy shit I could just keep going. This isn’t to mention that the the only returning vault hunters from BL2 are Zero and Maya. And then factor in that the writers had to write up a ton of audio logs, some Typhon logs, Eridian logs, side quest dialogue for meaningless bosses, etc. and you have just this disaster of a story that churns everyone out to be really shallow characters. There aren’t any truly good characters in this game. Some of them are passable but that’s because they either aren't main characters or they have some somewhat funny writing and redeeming qualities.

Characters like Ava and Maya (and Vaughn) are completely devoid of any purpose within Borderlands outside of being fuel to the drama fire or just outright being an obnoxious brat. It’s pretty obvious that Ava is just a spoiled teenager who has no idea what she’s getting into, but even in the context of Borderlands her character doesn’t fit at all. For example, after the player kills the first vault monster (Rampager) and returns from the vault, you’re suited to a cutscene where Ava and Maya go pants on head retarded. Ava, a defenseless, tiny, teenager with no powers whatsoever, tries to tell Maya that, “We should be kicking [the Calypsos’] asses!” after the Calypso twins show up to absorb the powers of the vault monster. Mind you, this is after her and Maya debate about how Ava is a piece of shit that’ll get herself killed if she sneaks off to more vaults. Ava then has the audacity to tell the vampire sirens that eventually she’s going to be a siren and she’s going to, “Mop the floor with assholes like you.” These actions ultimately gets her put in her place, and Maya killed. Bottom line: She’s an obnoxious character that makes playing through the story of BL3 worse the more you’re exposed to her. And speaking of Maya, her character in Borderlands is completely useless. She introduces Ava, and then gets killed so that the players can go grrr at the big baddies. Her only significance to the story is that Maya is a siren so that the Calypso twins can steal her powers. Otherwise she is an absolutely useless character that now we’ll never get to see again without Gearbox pussying out on their own writing.

I’ll be completely honest here in saying that Typhon Deleon was the best written character in the game, and you hardly get to hear anything from him outside of backstory and the final couple hours of the game. If Typhon Deleon was a main star of BL3 I think the story would’ve went in a much more favorable direction. However I can’t discount the good writing moments within the story. Even though I absolutely hate Flak’s character even down to his voice, he does have some lines that made me chuckle. Rhys’ entire gag about Rhys ball had me laughing for that entire section, especially the line, “Suck on my big ball, Katagawa.” In fact I think most of the jokes that I laughed at were sexual jokes. I frankly don’t think a lot of these sexual jokes make the cut in a lot of games nowadays outside of obvious fanfare or really out there stuff like Grand Theft Auto 5. This was really unexpected and pulled off well in BL3 as weird as a compliment this is.

I also just want to express my disappointment for how the old vault hunters were treated in this writing: Axton, Gaige, Krieg, and Salvadore aren’t present in this game outside of some echo logs. It could be plausible that Axton and Gaige will come back for a future dlc, but I’m not holding my breath. We ultimately got Maya and Zero, and oh god these characters are bad. Maya dies only a couple hours after you meet her and Zero is comparable to a boomer dad trying to be hip with the kids. Maybe that’s the joke, in which case all I can say is, “Wow, they pulled it off really well and I’m not laughing.”

And finally, the Watcher. What the hell happened to this dude and why isn’t he in BL3? He appears at the end of TPS and is like, “You’re gonna need all of the vault hunters you can get,” however, not only do we have a very restricted roster of vault hunters, the Watcher is literally never mentioned again. Unless the Watcher is the Eridian that left all of the audio logs laying around, but what a disappointment.

I could keep going a good while if I wanted to, but that’s reserved for my videos. The next part of the game that should be brought up is the world design. Most of the world design is okay, I wish Pandora wasn’t just set in desert hell ala BL1, but other than that they seem to have enough content and discoverable areas to make them interesting to explore. My ultimate problem with the world building comes in when considering the planetary system in the game. Now this point can be entirely perceived as me just being an ass but when I think “planets” I expect a lot more than the world hubs in BL3. The planet’s levels are relatively small scale for being on, you know, a planet. And this isn’t just a problem with BL3, many other games that have incorporated planets like this, such as Destiny and Warframe, ultimately fail at capturing the scale of planets. A planet is often scaled down to a simple level within a video game, and it’s somewhat shameful to see a game boasting, “tens of planets to travel to” and then those planets have the same (and even less) scale as their previous title entries that were based on a singular world. Now I perfectly understand that this is a hard request to answer to, and having to build and construct one world is difficult on its own. Despite this, if a development/marketing team wants to promote their usage of a planetary system in their video game, it’s implied that the levels are going to be gigantic. It’s not at all impressive to see planets being used in BL3 because BL2 had the same, if not more, level variety and the same, if not more, amount of levels without the pseudo use of large scale.

This isn’t to say that the levels contained in the game are bad, just that I wish they weren’t pushed into a planetary system. Generally speaking, the levels aren’t bad. I hadn’t ever reached a part of the game where I thought, “Wow this level is trash,” or found levels that were broken. In fact, the gameplay and level design seem to be the real highlights of this game. Gameplay this time around has been modernized and sped up. Players are suited with a slide, ledge grabbing, barrel throwing, and melee slams. Sliding in of itself is important because of how non-committal it is as you can cancel a slide instantly by jumping. These additions ultimately make combat faster and more varied in how you approach the game. See Borderlands 1, 2, and TPS (while it tried) suffered from each fight encounter being basically the same shootout with basic cover systems. This time around, while you can still use the basic playstyle from the older games, you’re provided the methods to really make your gameplay interesting. Personally I never used the melee slam or the barrel throwing, and the new ledge grabbing system only serves to add verticality in map exploring from my experience. However I did use a lot of the slide, and given the right gun (especially shotguns) it became very satisfying to slide into an enemy and pop them into the air with a shotgun.

On this note, I feel like I have to express how much I disliked the feel of the guns. And clearly I am on the contrary opinion here because I have heard everyone on the planet say that, “Wow the gunplay is soooo good omg!!!” but I’ll be honest in saying that I didn’t see it here. Sure, the gunplay now feels more weighty and the new animations and stuff are nice to making the player character good gameplay feel. But the guns themselves, despite apparently having tons of funding behind making the guns sound good and being completely reworked, still have the chronic floaty-ness issues of the previous games. Some guns (primarily early game Hyperion SMGs, Maliwan guns, and some shotguns) just felt so awful to play with that I put them down and never touched them again. I’m not too sure what I was expected as I slid into an opponent and shot them in the face with my shotgun, only for them to fly away a couple feet and just get right back up only having lost about half or less of their health. Jakobs guns were consistently the best weapon, feel wise, despite me always wishing they had a bit more of a kick to them.

One of my major issues with the guns is that they are way too sci-fi and not enough like guns on wastelands and battle driven hell hole. Seriously for how terrible a place Pandora is, you don’t get weapons that reflect this attribute, Instead you get these futuristic Hyperion smgs that will project a shield out in front of you or a Torgue gun that will home into your target when thrown. This is a consistent theme throughout the game where guns won’t aesthetically match the environment. I could understand if you found futuristic guns on Promethea, or even that you find technologically advanced weaponry in the form of Hyperion leftovers on Pandora(given that they’re consistent with the styling of BL2). This would 1. Appease me, because I am the only person worth pleasing, and 2. Would allow the Gearbox developers to create more variety with their weapons so that the game actually feels like it’s hitting its promise of, “Billions of guns.”

Another issue I have is the sound design for these guns, which is probably the point I’ll get absolutely grilled for but: Using actual sampled gun sounds apparently does not work for video games. Seriously every time a game tries to improve the sound of its guns, the new sounds somehow turn out to be worse. This can easily be explained off as having a bias against change, but let's talk about it. Firstly, the guns are way too quiet in Borderlands. And they seem extra quiet in BL3, like worse than BL1 quiet. Maybe it’s a difference in subtlety, because let’s face it: It’s not like a microphone was stuck right next to an actual gun. In reality the sound designers probably had the microphone a good many feet away. This gives the gunshot more of a subtle popping sound rather than the huge blast that the person holding the gun actually experiences (hence why you wear earplugs when shooting guns in real life). But I’m going to put in my take on this matter: Guns need to have an impact in their noise. Now this doesn’t mean that guns sounds even need to be based on real guns or realistic in any shape or fashion. Borderlands is a game with a unique artstyle, so why can’t Borderlands have unique sound design?

It seems that every game nowadays wants the best sounding or most realistic guns to boot, however what happened to all that stylistic choice? Some of the best examples I can think of are Counter Strike’s western inspired whiff sounds for its older titles, Enter the Gungeon’s wide arrangement of different gun sounds, the cartoony gun shot effects for Wasted, and even Borderlands unique sound designs such as The Bane and the beam guns from TPS. These unique sound designs are missing for BL3’s guns and, despite Gearbox making an algorithm to suit one gun sound to thousands of guns, they all really sound the same. Not like you can’t tell the difference between what you’re shooting but in that all snipers sound like a generic sniper, all pistols sound like pistols. Of course you have to discount certain weapons like the Occultist that don’t even shoot the bullets respective of its weapon type. But the point is: this is a missed part of the game. I don’t necessarily like or dislike the realistic approach to the sound design of weaponry, but in a game that feels anything but realistic, the sounds aren’t doing it for me here.

But let’s reel it back to the game again, and get into the basic looting mechanics for this game. Upfront: It’s dumbed down, and takes little effort to get good gear. This is the part of the game where I fall out of my element (if I haven’t already), because I don’t really appreciate Borderlands for its RPG mechanics. It feels nice, and the act of finally getting something you grind out for hours if exhilarating (4 times magic missile), but it is far from how I prefer to play my games. Given this though, even I feel that legendaries drop way too often. Over my playthrough of just the main game content (I did 6 side quests on my first playthrough, and we’ll get to this) I collected tens of legendaries. When I was finished with the game I had 10 legendaries just sitting in my inventory that I was either actively using or keeping as a memorial item. This isn’t to mention that you literally get a chest at the end of the game that contain 4 legendaries in it. The loot dropping system is no longer satisfying at this point. And this isn’t just a matter of, “Oh they buffed the loot drops a little bit,” it’s a matter of the looting system becomes a complete joke when bosses can literally drop multiple legendaries without Mayhem, and will consistently drop multiple legendaries with Mayhem.

Assemble this with a forgiving leveling system, and now it’s just a dumbed down Borderlands experience. In previous Borderlands games, you couldn’t just do the main quest from start to finish. At some point you would eventually become underleveled, and paired with Borderlands’ trademark unforgiving and shitty rpg mechanics, meant that being 3 levels beneath an enemy granted you 10% damage reduction. This is no longer a worry, you can now play the main quests from start to finish with zero leveling hiccups. Or at least from my experience. Some reviews that I indulged in have said that they did have troubles with the leveling system, to which I rolled my eyes and had to immediately question what the hell they had done wrong. On normal mode I finished the campaign having only completed 6 side quests in total. One of these, to tie back to the looting system real quick, gave me a legendary elemental pistol that melted enemies for the next couple of zones. I also asked someone about their experience playing Borderlands 3 so far, only to learn that he had been doing every single quest that he was given and was massively overleveled come time for the first vault boss (he was level 21).

The bosses of Borderlands, this time around, were the best and the worst that the series has ever gotten. They’ve been massively revamped from the older system of AOE insta-kill moves to having actual attack patterns that you can skillfully avoid. To compensate for this, the bosses have been relatively tuned up to be more aggressive, throwing out more attacks. These new bosses range from very good to very, very bad. Some of my favorites were the Graveward, the Penn and Teller styled boss (Pain and Terror), and Troy Calypso. The bosses that I ultimately ended up hating were Katagawa, the Rampager, the Warden, and the Anointed. These bosses either suffered from boring attack patterns, bullet spongy-ness, or a lack of direction on what you’re supposed to be doing to beat the boss. Katagawa and the Warden fit into this last category. For Katagawa I was confused by him taking inconsistent damage (he loses a ton of health on shield break) and the Warden I couldn’t figure out whether or not I was allowed to kill him early. This is because the Warden is styled around the Goliath from BL2, so whenever he kills one of his teammates he gains all of his health back and then levels up. It turns out that you can kill this boss early, I just had garbage guns for this fight. So to answer your question, yes I did get the Warden to max level, and what pursued was a 20-something minute boss fight where you run the boss around in circles and turn around to deal damage when you can, and then he would kill a minion and level up. The only way I managed to kill him was that when he did eventually hit max level, he would stop focusing his minions when on low health.

The bosses that were truly good were the ones that kept the player busy, while not being too spongy or time consuming. It should be noted that the spongy factor of a boss can be easily biased by what type of weapons you enter a boss fight with. Some of the bosses I thought were easier may have actually been harder for you or another player, and vice versa. However, I will speak more of a general design philosophy and less of a, “This guy had too much health,” philosophy. I loved the Graveward (while admittedly being underwhelming for a vault monster) because of his unique battle area and clear attacks that would make his weak point exposed. Having the entire floor tilted to the side while you’re spamming jump to save your life was a fun mechanic to work with, especially when you factor in dodgeable acid balls. This was a simple boss fight that had a unique spin on an FPS boss. Terror and Pain I loved for stylistic reasons and the meta-humor around putting characters themed around Penn and Teller in a game made by a company with a CEO who is super into magic. This boss is comparable to Mouthpiece, but actually just a straight upgrade. The arena you fight Terror and Pain in is far more interesting, the boss itself looks cool, and while I have honestly forgotten the attacks that the boss had, it was still a fun encounter. One of the attacks I do remember though is the floor lighting up to indicate that fire was going to shoot up to incinerate you, and felt far more fitting than getting blasted by a speaker turned up too loud.

Something that I disliked across the board with these bosses, and this is a massive opinion piece, is that the bosses were too easy. Sometimes I honestly wished I was playing Borderlands: The Bullet Hell. I really wanted a boss that wasn’t just going to engage my attention, but make me feel like, “Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god, I am going to die.” Actually, the entire game was pretty damn easy. Although this can come down to a lot of reasons such as ally NPCs now being able to revive you, and the upped pacing of the game causing players to need to rely less on cover.

And I mean, it’s not like the game stays easy forever right? After you complete the campaign on normal mode you then unlock True Vault Hunter Mode (TVHM) and the brand new, super cool, “Badass-,” oh whoops I mean, “Guardian Ranks.” The end game is perhaps the most disappointing thing is this game for hardcore veterans of the Borderlands series. Firstly, that “reworked” end game comes in the form of the new badass ranking system, only this time you can’t disable it (This pieceo of information has become outdated with time, a future update has included the option to turn off these gaurdian perks and the passive bonuses). I mean, this time you get some rewards for using the guardian ranks? Meh. Otherwise the game still revolves around making you play it multiple times in order to get to the level cap. The only real reworked thing here is the new mayhem difficulties, annnnd they’re bad. So what the mayhem system is supposed to do is make the game more difficult while incentivizing you to play it by giving you consistently better loot rewards (more blues, purples, and legendaries). This system would otherwise be okay if not for just one problem: Mayhem 2 added no difficulty to the game, while Mayhem 3 felt typical to Borderlands end game difficulty (It should be noted that the Mayhem system has been revamped to include 10 Mayhem levels). Again, this may be because of my own personal experience with the game, see apparently Flak is outright broken when it comes to crits (Future updates have severely nerfed Flak). So this could be influencing my opinion greatly on this difficulty switch. But I’ll say that I had no reason not to play Mayhem 2, because for essentially no difficulty increase, the game started commonly dropping me blues, purples, and legendaries, while rarely spitting out a green.

At this point I had essentially had enough with the game, as my terrible, clunky inventory was constantly filling with valuables, and I had to make constant stops to dump stuff out of my inventory. Given this, the fact that Mayhem gave you a ludicrous amount of XP for very little difficulty on Mayhem 2, and a quick Google search about the raid bosses in the game, I’ve ultimately put the game down. I went from level 39 to 44 in the span of an hour, was being drowned in good loot, and the biggest sting of all: There are no raid bosses in the base game of Borderlands 3.

This is a massive review for a game that probably doesn’t deserve it. Borderlands 3 has a lot of ups and downs. It’s not a game that many people will enjoy for the story. Veteran players may have a distaste for the lack of an interesting end game. All in all, if you’re playing Borderlands 3, you’re probably playing it for the gunplay and the loot, which still, somewhat, hold up. I didn’t see how the game had a billion guns, but you know what, that’s alright. And after all of the controversy, and now that Gearbox is releasing patches, performance fixes, and balancing to the game, it’s not that bad of a game. The game just doesn’t strike me as the godlike triple A, return to Borderlands that many had hoped for. Overall, I would give the game a 6/10.

EDITOR'S NOTE: There used to be a video here demonstrating a supposed XP glitch that had occurred to me while playing through True Vault Hunter Mode while using Mayhem. It turns out that, at the time, this was an intentional mechanic for Mayhem to give you massive XP gains. To correct for this error, the video has been pulled from Youtube and this paragraph has been written, as well as all mentions of the XP glitch being pulled from this article.

-Count_

[xkdreamingx]

Mafia AU - Exo

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Falling for Them

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Masterlist

Xiumin -

You didn’t necessarily feel like a prisoner with Xiumin. He didn’t lock you up, or toss you in a dungeon, or anything absurd like that. But you still felt... lonely. You had no one around you, and that sucked. Sure you called home every now and again, and talked to your sister all the time... but you missed them. You missed hugging them and being around them and waking up to see them in the morning... you just missed them. You were sure nothing was going to chance, that was until Xiumin said he wanted to take you on a little trip. You didn’t except this, you didn’t except ending up at your house, you didn’t except to get to see your family, your sister. You couldn’t get out of that car quick enough and as soon as that door opened you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around your parents. You had the biggest smile on your face. Xiumin did this for you, maybe... maybe he’s actually a pretty nice guy. And that’s the moment you knew... you fell in love with a criminal.

Suho -

You saw it day by day. Suho was always with his family, whether it was official business or just having a nice conversation over lunch. He always made time for them. It reminded you a lot of your family and how you guys were. It was nice to see, he was very much dedicated to his work but to know how much he cared for his family made it even better. You had just gotten back from seeing your own family when you saw him and his family sitting around together, playing a game with each other. You just stood back and watched as all of them were smiling and laughing as the game progressed. They were so absorbed in their own world they didn’t even know you were there, you didn’t mind one bit. You didn’t get to see this side of Suho much, it was a good change. You couldn’t hold back the smile from taking over your face. You loved seeing this side of him, really all sides of him you loved... maybe you loved him.

Lay -

It started with small things. Moving in some of your old furniture into your room, buying some of your favorite foods and putting it in the fridge for you, simple things. You didn’t except this, you didn’t except for them to change one of their spare rooms into an office space/living area for you. You didn’t except new clothes from brands your use to wearing, not fancy brands or anything. You weren’t use to... your normal. Well not exactly your normal but a version of your normal. It’s still a lot of money and honestly you keep trying to stop them but they won’t. It wasn’t until you cornered Lay and keep bugging him about why he does it that you finally understood why he does these things. He wants you to feel at home. He’s trying to make this giant, over luxurious, over the top, place feel like home. He could have given you a brand new fancy bedroom that was your dream bedroom, he could give you all these fancy and crazy clothes, but he’s trying to make you feel at home. He’s trying to give you back, at least some of, your normal. You couldn’t blame him if he couldn’t get it entirely right, but you couldn’t deny the warm fuzzy feeling you got after you found out he was trying to make you feel better. You kind of loved it... you kind of loved him, oddly enough.

Baekhyun -

You’ve seen this kid run up and down walls and jump all over the place. Like this guy does not seem to have an off switch and it bugs you. Oh it bugs you so much. He is hyper always and it’s kind of crazy if you’re being honest. But you can’t blame the kid, that’s how he is. You were asked to join a meeting, because it involved your family and your dad wanted you there. What surprised you the most was Baekhyun in the meeting. You didn’t talk much in the meeting so you mostly got to sit back and watch and seeing how he handled himself genuinely shocked you. You knew his dad was away on business so his father trusted Baekhyun to deal with this matter on his behalf and you were surprised at how serious he was. Maybe you’ve been misreading this boy all along, maybe you just respected him more after seeing this more serious side to him, but either way you definitely started seeing him in a new light after this, and you might just be falling in love now because of it.

Chen -

It was small things that happened, especially after getting that tattoo. There was less guards monitoring you all the time, you had more freedom to roam about the house, and that day you got the tattoo was the last time you were handcuffed. Slowly he showed his trust in you and you returned the favor by not overstepping boundaries. Except... for one day. It was one thing you always did, you made a promise that every year on the day she died you’d visit your grandmothers gravestone. You didn’t care to tell Chen, in fear that he’d say no and lock you up so you couldn’t go. So... you snuck out. You knew he’d find you and when he did he’d be pissed but in that moment you didn’t care, consequences be damned, you made a promise and you intended to keep it. So when he showed up you were shocked he gave you time, and you were even more shocked that he didn’t handcuff you. He trusted you. Even though you ran away, he trusted you. You got back to the house and all he said was, “If you have something like that to do again, don’t waste my day and just tell me, I’m not going to scream at you and keep you under house arrest. But I hope you know there might be one or two more guards around again, gotta step up my security I guess, if you can sneak out I don’t even want to find out who could sneak in.” And that was the end of it. He trusted you, and he still did. Maybe you could love this guy... maybe you were being an idiot but right now... you’re in love with a killer.

Chanyeol -

You can’t lie, Chanyeol was attractive, and you saw him around the house when you were with his sister, but you never paid him much mind back then, but now that you’re married, you can’t help but notice him. He honestly commands a room very well, he stands tall and you can’t help but notice. But where everyone sees this suave beauty of a man, you see a massive dork. Your sister couldn’t help but share funny stories about Chanyeol after you two were decided to be married, and those stories continued well into the beginning of your marriage. So whenever you see him you can’t help but think about all these funny stories and see him as the massive dork he was. Maybe that’s what made you fall in love with him; maybe you just needed a little push to admit that.

Kyungsoo -

Kyungsoo was so nice. It seemed with everything you went through with him he took it slow and told you, you could ask any question and he would answer them. And he always did. He told you the truth, sometimes s little sugarcoated so you could accept it easier, but it was the truth nonetheless. Your relationship never felt rushed, which is probably why your were able to slowly fall in love with him. You didn’t except it at first, you just thought he chose you from a long list of girls for such simple reasons, but then he told you why, and you were shocked. And then with the tattoo he took it slow and helped you take your time. He never pushed you to hurry up or do something you were uncomfortable with. So maybe it wasn’t can exact moment you knew, maybe you’ve always known you’d fall in love so you just did, you fell in love with him, murderer and all.

Kai -

You knew about him. You knew about his family. And yet you still decided to go on a date with this... killer. Your date was of course in the sketchiest place it could be, an abandoned warehouse. But once inside it was a little different of a story. There was a cute little picnic set up inside. You guys sat down and Kai explained why he had to do it this way, how his parents would never approve and that he did this in secret. You were intrigued by that, by the fact that he was willing to sneak around and hide this from his parents because he liked you that much. You guys talked for what felt like ages and by the end of the night you had a different perception of him. You saw him as sweet and kind, and not as the killer you once saw him. So yeah... you may have fell in love on the first date, but it speaks volumes how much he was willing to risk to be with you, might as well make it worth it.

Sehun -

You were so sure you wouldn’t fall in love with him. You were so sure you’d always see him as just a friend. It wasn’t some big crazy thing, you falling in love with him, it was actually quite simple. You two were just lounging around in the living room, both of you just doing your own thing, not really paying much mind to the other. You were reading some thing on your laptop when you just glance over to him. He was so far off in his own world it was nice to watch. He was just sitting there absorbed into the latest drama he’s been obsessed with. You loved his little face and his micro expressions whenever something would happen. Then it hit you. It hit you like a truck, you don’t look at him like a friend anymore. Honestly you don’t remember when you stopped. But all that you could see now was love and you were okay with that.

[kateemmerson]

Malaga Momentos - My City of Healing

This is my tribute to a city that held me tight while I grieved a part of my life no longer real or relevant, cried a whole river of tears, let the sun warm my bones and fell in love with me again. Like L’Oreal says …‘cos I’m worth it, baby!

I have lived my entire life believing that certain places call out to my soul. They whisper quietly and then if perhaps I don’t listen timeously, they yell a little louder. It always feels like threads of energy are attached to my heart and they start tugging gently at me. I have never been able to adequately explain it, suffice it to say that I am a gypsy-traveller-nomad at heart, and love to move. Often. I also understand the innate value of a home, a base, and roots, but I have danced and moved between these two extremes all my life.

The way it happens varies – it might be the first time someone utters the name of that place and it feels like the words leave their lips and send a cupid’s arrow straight to my heart; or an image lands on my retina for the first time, or the words jump off the page in a book and just…won’t… let…go…!

Sometimes it’s just a whispering deep inside…that inevitably becomes stronger and stronger. Having traveled alone on a plane at the tender age of 8, that bug bit early. Many times I have literally sold up everything I own in order to make a trip to follow the strings that are pulling the hardest. The yearning that will not quieten down. 4 years ago I even took it a bit further, and as a ‘late-in-my-40’s’ year old, packed up again and went #LocationFree with my business still intact and growing. I have just written about that journey for my 5th book, due for release later this year.

For 4 years I have had no fixed home of my own, simply following the strings pulling at my heart; combining retreats, talks and coaching work around the world – and LOTS of online work, along with many visits of the heart to South Africa. One suitcase and a large armful of dreams. But now, I am finally looking for my next home. A little place to call mine – a nest to return to. Roots to plant and lavender to pick. Listening once again to the stirrings in my heart. I’m also getting clear about where I DON’T want to be, which can pave the way for where I do. There is a very loooong back story as to how I landed up coming to Spain – my business partner Sarah walked a part of the Camino in 2018 and together we decided it would be a spectacular way to combine writing and walking. So we did. Another whole story layered on top of that was that in my personal relationship, Spain seemed like somewhere to explore as a potential home for us in the future.

But where to explore? And where to explore for my heart?

Choosing Malaga was easy. My mama-bear lives in a beautiful retirement village in the UK and I have gotten to know many of her lovely neighbors. Cue a wonderful couple who spends a LOT of time in Spain and own homes here. So I popped across for tea asking for some necessary advice. I was presented with a good old fashioned map and a destination. They know my age, my interests and I just said – “where do you think I should spend the winter to write my book?” “MALAGA!”

“Where?”

“Malaga – you will LOVE it. Lots of culture, museums, history, art, expats, locals, awesome food, warm etc, etc.

“Where? Oh there, on the coast – I see it.”

“But not to the West Kate; Malaga or East.”

Got it. Done. That’s all it takes for me sometimes. A clear directive delivered at the right time. Apparently, many people I know have already been to Malaga, including my parents (and Hemingway of course); but I didn’t know that at the time (in my active brain). Go figure.

So I duly went into my trusted housesitters profile  (click link if you want a 25% discount) and started looking for a Malaga based house-sit for the winter. Mmmmalaga. A 2.5 month house-sit for one kitty popped onto my screen. Looks easy peasy. And warm – just like a Durban winter. If you are not from South Africa just think cozy, sunny and warm, a bit like Florida in the winter. Where all the human “swallows” might go in search of thawing out. You just need a light jacket in winter, no serious heating and can soak up plenty of vitamin D.

Well, yes, that beats the dreary UK over the winter, dunnit?

Fast forward – we facilitated the Walk ‘n Write Retreat in Northern Asturias region; my partner doesn’t join me as originally planned; Sarah and I visit Madrid for 4 nights; I plonk Sarah on the plane and then I head South. Alone. I like the way Malaga rolls off my tongue. Sounds exotic – I’m spending winter in Malaga. Tra la la – like I’m some millionairess with a house on the hill. Ha – If only I knew what was in store.

The potential house-sit didn’t pan out, after all, so while in Madrid I had booked 6 weeks in a glorious modern Air B‘nB New York type loft, thinking I could get writers to join me for a residency while I wrote over winter too. Or perhaps friends could pop over from the UK? It was gorgeous and trendy and just a short walk from everything. The morning after I arrived, I walked the 18 minutes across the “dry river” bridge into the historic city center to go and sign up for Spanish Classes. After all, I needed a total immersion if considering living in Spain. I thought it best I scrub up a bit and take the language plunge. Plus it would get me to meet people in a city where I knew literally no one and I could use it with my significant other.

I fell in love. INSTANTLY. Everywhere I looked made me beam from the inside out.

I have three innate questions when visiting a new place: Do I love it? Will I ever come back? Could I live here?

It was an instant YES to all three. It took me by surprise actually. These questions get asked and answered internally for me, without having to actively process them the moment I arrive somewhere. Most places I visit I generally tend to really like, or even love. Some, I definitely know I’ll be back to visit again and then a few grab me and my heart almost instantly. Malaga was an instant cupid moment and it has stayed with me. Four months later, I still absolutely love this city, and I absolutely could live here – but I also have come to realize that Spain is somehow not my next home. It’s a hard one for anyone else to fathom what I am saying – but that is how it feels for ME. It’s been a really interesting concept for me to lean into. I could live in Malaga but not in Spain. Mmm ok – so it’s off the list as a permanent base then.

I am still on the hunt for my next country! How exciting!

Malaga will 100% be a place I return to. It feels like home even though it won’t be my permanent home. Does that make sense? The first Air BnB apartment turned out to be inappropriate ‘cos I couldn’t sleep, thanks to the neighbor’s TV on till 3 am. Thankfully I managed to cancel the rest of my booking and moved straight into the center of the historic town. There is a fabulous brand called ILOFTMALAGA – great curated apartments of very high standards. Funky, modern and minimalist – me to a T. My quiet apartment looked onto a bustling street in the heart of the olde town. Bliss.

I started looking for another house-sit. I also found the awesome website GUIDE TO MALAGA and reached out to it’s founder, Joanna Styles, and joined a networking session to meet like-minded business women. Bliss! Her guide really is the GO-TO for anything that you want to know about. Be sure to grab it when visiting Malaga.

“Why a house-sit Kate”, you may ask?

Mostly because I love to feel like I’m really IN a city, living there like a local, with animals to look after and using local transport – rather than being a visitor looking from the outside in. Can you believe that the same housesit from my initial search, was back in play on the membership site, as she had been seriously let down by anther house-sitter? Only this time I was already IN Malaga and could meet the “pussycat’s slave” in person. I got to visit the exquisite property just to the East of Malaga, and it instantly felt like Cape Town – Camp’s Bay to be precise. With a sweet black ’n white kitty to love and vice versa. I needed some animal love! It was a done deal. I had a winter home and a base from which to write my next book and heal my heart. The Cat slave, Melanie, is  helping shift people’s perceptions to become Vegan through her recipes and coaching.

This might be another whole blog post one day, but at a very personal level, suffice it to say I was walking into the “Devil’s Den” by wondering if I could actually LIVE in Spain. It was part of another story of my potential future that was rapidly changing before my eyes– a future that it seemed was sadly not coming to fruition. And yes, I am being a little cryptic on purpose. If you know me, pick up the phone and call to chat for a more personal update! But, sometimes we need to face the fire. Spain was that for me. Healing, writing, walking, crying, yelling at the universe, sleeping, laughing, walking, reading, writing, creating a new community. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. Malaga Momentos.

After about 2 weeks of being in Malaga – already with some favorite spots under my belt, an innate understanding of all the cobbled streets, local coffee shops where locals hung out, many, many beach walks, clients taken care of, and my resonance with the city deepening, I realized I needed to really LIVE and CONNECT and be less of a hermit. I was spending too much time alone if this was going to be my home for a few months. Working mostly online can be deceptive that way. I am always connecting with coaching clients, mastermind folk, writer’s and my mentorship groups and always interacting with people, friends, and family. But I needed more connecting IN THE FLESH. I knew I was going to be staying for a minimum of 3 months and I thought I best get to work on building a community of people. Playmates, colleagues, connections to yackety-yack with. Solidarity and friendships. The best way I know how to do that is to do it via something I love. I looked at dance classes, but they started at my bedtime. So what about writing?

I had decided it was the time to start writing my 5th book and had lodged that in my heart as my “winter” project. It’s about the past 4 years of living location free. So I searched for and joined the local Facebook group for Expats, and put up a post about how I was writing a book and asked who fancied joining me for some writing sessions? A simple post. I often do these writing sessions with our writers in our mentorships and regularly sit in community with writers. I was bowled over by the responses, especially a lady from Scotland who lives here all winter who started pointing me to all sorts of people she instinctively thought I’d like to meet. Instant networks and threads for me to explore.

I wasn’t starting the Malaga group as a paid membership or community –simply more to meet people and anchor myself in front of my computer. In the first meeting, there were 5 of us – and in 2 short hours, I had planned my whole book in 13 pages of hand-written notes. I always have a rule that every time you sit to write you need a goal to aim for. I offered this one rule to the group to get everyone to set minimum word count/goals for the writing session. Very little talking – lots of writing and lots of coffee. Word quickly spread. This week, as I leave Malaga, two other writers have taken over the group to keep the energy going and to keep writers writing!  Thanks to a lovely young lad Matt from the USA and Marta from Scotland (a belt loving scriptwriter) who took over,  I somehow feel as if I have managed to leave a little piece of myself here in the form of a committed writing group. That makes me so happy! I had been shown a PERFECT writing spot by my house-sit host. La Galerna is right on the beach in Pedregalejo, and we sit upstairs looking over the Mediterranean. I gathered folk who wanted to write together, once or twice a week. Within just 11 such writing sessions I had finished the first draft of my book. FANBLOODYTASTIC! Thanks to the regular committed folk Marc, Ruth, Carolynne, Eunice, Gian, Jan, Matt, Caroline, Marta and Lina. My regular writing tribe!

I have a small community here now, favorite places that call out to my heart, little back streets I always walk, bus drivers I know to greet, the place I buy my breakfast, an awesome physiotherapist, a weekly co-working meet-up with the fabulous Victoria Watson, a brand & PR expert, my regular pit-stop to the El Haman Turkish hot baths that soothe my muscles as I let the stress slip onto slabs of heated marble. I literally used to pray onto the slabs of marble while pouring buckets of piping hot water over my soul. The power of rituals. Then there is the powerhouse that is the incredible Nathan Manzaneque who runs the BTB networking club. I was also bowled over by the powerhouse of heartfullness, Victoria Ahlen who runs The Vilostrada Foundation doing phenomenal work in Morocco, and she is based between Morocco and Malaga. Or how about early morning Pilates with Ruth on the beach watching the sunrise.

I found a funky hairdresser and the best nail technician I have ever found anywhere. She’s called Angelica – go figure- and she is like a little butterfly on my nails. Or for the gals who need Frida type eyebrows – visit these two gorgeous Polish sisters who make this an unforgettable experience. Lashes and brows with love. I also have many other local coffee shops. I even get to tell established residents where to eat a certain food or entice them to a piano concerto in the magnificent Art Deco Concert Hall. And a guy I make sure I go and visit every time I’m near Plaza Constitution with his puppy called Kitty to offer an ear as he battles the streets. It’s a community for me. I know I will entice you to come and visit and …I already have plans afoot to host a Writing Residency in November 2020. Hosted at a gorgeous, brand new Retreat Centre called VegaHouseSpain run by Ana Capucho Maybe you get to explore this city with me soon?

I walk through it like a local. Smiling!

For me, life is usually about going TO something rather than walking away FROM somewhere else. I know it’s still Europe / Uk that’s pulling me. That’s what I know for now.

But I needed a blank page in between the old and the new. Malaga was my place. Officially leaving South Africa after to-and fro-ing for 4 years, I am in the place of – oh hell – so where next? Where is the place I let myself “pot”. You know- when you POT A PLANT? I have picked up my roots from the 50 years of being in SA, but am now dancing in the air waiting for the drumroll of ….YES, IT’S HERE. To feel the resonance of “This place wants me to stay.”

Malaga offered me a precious place to pause. To regather me to myself. Process and ponder life and where I am going. How do I want to truly live going forward, and how do I want to show up for my work and purpose. Where do I wish to create a proper home and retreat center? What does this new chapter look like and who joins me on it? Do you know what I mean when I say certain cities have the ability to help you heal – from the inside out? Malaga just mostly made me smile – or when I was grieving I could still smile through the tears as I stared at the ocean. It is an outrageously wonderful city to be in over Christmas and New year – the shops and Christmas lights and concerts are simply magnificent.  I also had a dear friend and my mum come visit – and it was so easy to show them “my” city. Every time I spot the ‘Catedral’ I burst into a smile- she suddenly appears as you walk along a narrow street then BOOM – her majestic dome and “manquita arm” is right in front of you. Or walking past Octopus- the multi-million dollar yacht that was berthed in the Puerto all winter. I never did get an invite onto it. Rooftop terraces to bask in the sun sipping vino and tapas. Buskers playing everything from harps, to flutes to opera. A little Flamenco passion and “Naranja” lined streets. I also happened to have a fabulous Spanish teacher who lived in my complex – if ever you need a Spanish language immersion, she’s your teacher! I met many, many, amazing souls and you all know who you are, even if not mentioned in person here. Thank you for making my time in Malaga so precious.

I would really LOVE to know where you have ever found yourself doing some deep inner healing and re-assessment work? Or where you are right now? Was it a bustling city, a new country, or a wee village on a remote island? Was it summer and sun, or snow and shovels?

How long did it take you to come back to yourself – to find a sense of inner rhythm again? I feel like my winter sojourn to Malaga has revived me, and I know everything is gonna be just perfect, even though it’s totally different from what I had imagined unfolding these past few months. Life has a plan for us – we just have to show up and be present.

Drop me a line on kate@kate-emmerson.com to connect- or leave me a comment

If you feel like you need to take some time to gather yourself towards yourself, be sure to come and grab my latest series about THE STRATEGIC POWER OF DISCONNECTING

Love Kate xx

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Malaga Momentos – My City of Healing was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Fallen Valkyrie, pt8

Word Count: 1959 Tags: @outside-the-government @distinguishedqueenofbooks, @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @youdonebeengarthed @auduna-druitt @samaxraph99 @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @little-study-bug @graysonmalfoy @rampant-salamander

Eira was taking a much-deserved day away from responsibility. There were no sick at the estate, Fandral was up and walking, and there was a tentative truce in the worst of the skirmishes in Midgard. She had walked through the meadow behind her home to the peak of the hill, and lay back in the grass, just to stare at the clouds floating by. The sun was warm, and she rolled her sleeves up, and hitched her skirt to above her knees to feel the rays kiss her skin.

It was hard for her to clear her mind, though. She had been working so hard to learn healing methods other than depending on her magic that her brain continued to recite the uses of various plants, no matter how much she sought out animals and shapes in the clouds above her. When she was able to slow the churning in her head, her heart would quickly take over, leading her to think about Thor and the kisses he had stolen. She groaned in frustration.

“Is it too much to ask to just have my mind empty of thought? Just for one day?” Eira complained to the flowers around her.

“With a mind as keen as yours, it could never be empty.” Loki pushed through the grass and dropped down beside her, cross-legged. She turned her head toward him and smiled.

“This is a surprise, Loki. What brings you here?” Eira asked, absently flipping her skirt back down over her knees. Loki smiled and picked a daisy from beside him. He started picking the petals off, and dropping them on the ground.

“I was looking for you,” he admitted. Eira sat up and faced him, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“Whatever for?” She was curious.

“Why think you? I wanted to discuss our work together on Fandral.” Loki was straightforward.

“Your magic feels different than mine,” Eira nodded.

“Yours is like nothing I’ve ever felt. It is weightless and without demands. And smells of honey,” he offered. Eira nodded.

“My magic smells? Are you sure it wasn’t me?” She laughed.

“You smelled of sweat and gore. Your magic smells of honey,” he confirmed. Eira laughed again.

“I was foul. I am lucky you were all still filthy from battle yourselves, or it would have been more obvious.” She could feel her cheeks turning red. Loki smiled, his eyes wrinkling at the corners.

“I cannot believe my brother still hasn’t realized that you are more than a healer,” he admitted.

“Yes, Thor seems quite blind to that.”

“Oh, he’s Thor now? When did this happen?” Loki quirked an eyebrow at her. Eira laughed and shook her head in amusement.

“The other night, while I watched over Fandral. He decided I could be more familiar. Since he had already kissed me.” Her heart skipped a little faster thinking of the sweetness of his kisses. The smile fell from Loki’s eyes, but Eira didn’t notice it.

“I did not realize you had become that intimate with him,” he stated, his voice flat. He dropped the daisy head from his hands, the petals all gone.

“Your brother is lovely, Loki. But that is not why you are here. Tell me about your magic. I have heard you are a master of illusions and shadow magic. Is that how you were able to pull the curse from Fandral’s flesh?” Eira asked.

“The curse was wrought from shadows, but on my own I was unable to unmake it. There was something more to it that needed the addition of your healing touch to unbind it from Fandral’s body. I am just not sure what it was,” Loki explained. Eira contemplated for a moment.

“I don’t know much of magic, Loki. I don’t even know how my magic works. But I have heard that shadow mages usually practice on their own. Could part of the curse be that the shadow master who breaks the curse would have to merely work with another practitioner of magic in order to break it?”

“It’s crude and rudimentary, but that could very well be the reason. I dislike using my magic in concert,” Loki admitted, picking at the grass in front of him. He was very fidgety, Eira observed.

“What did it feel like to you?” Eira asked.

“What did what feel like?” Loki asked, puzzled.

“When your magic coursed through me, it felt like a cool mist. It twined around my heart, and into my belly before it left through my other hand,” Eira explained. Loki looked surprised.

“Yours was not like that. Just the feeling of light and the smell and taste of honey.” Loki stopped picking at the grass and met her gaze. His eyes flashed between green and blue a little, as the sun slipped behind a cloud momentarily.

“How strange. I distinctly felt your magic taking a journey through my body. It was,” Eira paused, looking for a word, “intimate.” Loki blinked slowly and looked back at the grass.

“I offer my apology. I would not want you uncomfortable.” He spoke to the grass. Eira laughed and took his hands in hers.

“No, Loki. Don’t apologize. It wasn’t a violation. I don’t know how to describe it, but I feel I know you better for having felt it. I feel we are closer now,” she explained. “I’ve never known another who practices magic. It has been a singularity that often makes me feel lonely.” She kept hold of his hands, drawing comfort from his touch. He curled his fingers around her hands and looked into her eyes again.

Eira felt a tingling in her fingers and suddenly she and Loki were surrounded by the night sky, and all the stars in the heavens. She drew in her breath sharply, taking in the vision around her. It was as though they were floating in the cosmos. She met Loki’s gaze and just as quickly as the vision had begun, it vanished. The side of his mouth tilted up in a lazy smirk, and he raised his eyebrow. The ground below them changed to ice, and Eira felt cold. She looked around and saw icy mountains surrounding them, and snapped her head back to look at Loki again. And again, the vision faded and brought them back to the warm sunny meadow.

“That was incredible, Loki,” she breathed. “I wanted to try to touch the stars, but I was afraid if I let go of your hands I would break the spell.”

“You deserved to see what I could do, after I forced your hand with my dagger blade.” Loki referred back to the morning he’d cut himself to see her work her healing magic on him. Eira smiled.

“We didn’t actually go anywhere, did we?” She asked. Loki shook his head.

“No. I can shift perceptions. You thought we were among the stars because I put that picture in your head. You thought we were on Jotunheim for the same reason,” he explained.

“What else can you do?” She asked, eager to see more. The tales of Loki’s mischief were notorious.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked, smiling.

“Can you change into someone else? Like Volstagg?” Eira thought that would be difficult, considering the immense size difference between the two men. Before her eyes, however, Loki shifted his appearance to that of Volstagg’s. Eira slipped one hand from between his, and touched his face. He even felt like Volstagg. She was astonished. Loki flipped back into himself. Eira felt a tiny shock when he changed into Volstagg and back.

“I felt your change,” she breathed. Loki nodded.

“Yes, for a shift to be believable, I would need to not be holding your hands. You are very perceptive, but even someone without magical talent would feel the pinch when I change.” Loki withdrew his hands, and cupped them in front of her. A sphere appeared in his palms, holding the entire cosmos in it.

“What a remarkable talent,” Eira breathed.

“It’s really only useful for getting into mischief.” Loki winked and made the sphere vanish. Eira laughed.

“Yes, your pranks are legendary.” Eira recalled a story of him turning Thor’s sword into a snake. Loki laughed with her. He picked up the daisy stem and held it out to her. She took it between her thumb and forefinger, narrowing her eyes in question.

“Just remember, it’s an illusion,” Loki reassured her as the stem turned into a writhing serpent. It started out the size of the stem, and grew thicker and longer. It’s head turned toward her and hissed. She shrieked and dropped the snake and watched it slither away in the grass. Eira clutched her hands to her chest.

“Will that change back to a stem?” She asked. She hated snakes.

“It already has,” Loki laughed. Eira glared at him for a moment, but couldn’t stay angry. She took a deep breath in and smelled licorice.

“Your magic smells too!” Eira exclaimed. “I can taste it! You smell of licorice.” She leaned close to Loki and took a deep breath, but he smelled only of leather and that indistinct musky scent of man.

“Licorice and honey. Interesting combination. I wonder if Fandral felt nauseated after we worked on him,” Loki pondered with a laugh. Eira smiled at the thought.

She caught a glimmer out of the corner of her eye, and looked down the hill. Thor waved as he approached. Eira felt a wave of disappointment crash over her. She was pleased to see Thor, without question, but she still wanted to question Loki about his magic, and see more of his tricks.

“Loki! Eira! I was hoping I would come across you both!” He called as he took the final steps to where they sat. He flopped down on the ground heavily, and patted Eira’s thigh with familiarity. Loki scowled.

“Well, you have found us, brother. Was there something you needed?” He was direct. Eira bit her lip to suppress a grin. Loki obviously wanted more time alone with a fellow magician himself.

“I thought we might have a celebration of Fandral’s recovery tonight. You must both be there,” Thor demanded. Eira nodded in agreement.

“Of course! I am so pleased he has healed so well.” She was excited, and immediately her thoughts turned to what to wear. She may need to visit Bryn and Hrist and Kara. If it wouldn’t have made her look mad, she would have giggled about being so concerned with her appearance, but her recent experiences serving in Valhalla made her realize that men admired her simple beauty more when she took time with her appearance. She shook her head, feeling vain, and then hoped Thor or Loki wouldn’t catch her. They were locked in a stare-down. She thought she would never understand them. They were so competitive and yet so close.

“And you, brother?” Thor asked. Loki smiled.

“You ask as though I could resist the incursion we will make into Father’s mead casks,” Loki scoffed. “I will be there.” He rose to his feet, graceful as ever and offered a hand to Eira to help her stand. Thor scrambled to his feet, offering his hand too late to be of assistance.

“Thank you, Loki. I enjoyed our time together today. We must make study of our magic again soon.” Eira squeezed his hand before releasing it. Loki nodded.

“Can I walk you home? I’m sure you’ll want to prepare for the evening,” he offered.

“I find I do, Loki. Thank you,” Eira agreed. Thor linked arms with Eira and Loki, effectively separating them.

“Let us make our way then. Time is wasting.” Thor shot Loki a smug look of triumph that Eira completely missed.

[exploding-grapes]

a letter to an ex-friend

fuck you for ever ruining the thoughts in my head. fuck you for ever infiltrating my life. fuck you for coming in and causing so much destruction. fuck you for ever letting me believe that you were a friend.

friends start off the way we did. friends talk to one another. friends smile at one another. friends talk on the phone and laugh and gossip and joke and get close, just like we did. friends support friends. friends don’t let friends hurt. i let you into my life; i showed you my closest friends and i begged you to never, ever leave my life.

you did that for a while. you acted like you cared about me. you acted like you gave half of a fuck about me. and. i. believed. your. bullshit.

so, yes, the joke is on me. congratulations, you’ve ruined me more than i’ve ever been ruined before.

you convinced me you had my back. you supported me. but it all started going downhill from there.

05/10/19

you showed me the level of friendship we had. you told me something that hurt me; and that’s not even your fault. it was his. but, it killed me. i let myself sink away into the sadness that was how i was feeling. i threw up a lot that night: i threw up from how disgusted i was that i was even a part of that situation. i was throwing up because i had too much. being destroyed just as life starts to sort itself out; learning that he hurt me the same night he finally admitted he was in love with me has fucked me up ever since. that’s fine: you were a friend and you were supporting me and showing me that the truth is out there; you tried to show me that because one person hurts you, doesn’t mean everyone is going to hurt you. “you don’t have to trust him ever again -- just trust yourself”. just get through it all, but do it with your help, right?

your biased help.

every night after that one i learned to love myself a little more. i learned to trust my gut instincts, i learned to trust you, i learned to trust him. i learned to trust his friends. i learned to trust again.

but if this has taught me anything, it’s that anything that has been broken can never, ever be whole again. and that’s me: i’m no longer whole. i can never bring myself back to the naïve girl who fell so deeply in love with the perfect boy who made a mistake, because YOU blew it out of proportion and never ever let me forget that he hurt me.

06/01/19

you were having a hard time. you were hurting because of something your ex did to you. you were never able to let go of him. i get it - i never can let go to those who mean so much to me. i convinced my boyfriend--our mutual friend--to take you out to coffee the next day to lift your spirits. you agreed, and i was so excited to hear about it.

but.

you asked him so many questions. you continuously brought up the situation in which broke me in may. you continuously let your filter disappear completely. you talked shit on me. you called me dramatic--and you sat there and talked about the moments by which i had been so “dramatic” in your eyes. You were asking questions about my personal life--things you should have never put my boyfriend into the position of feeling like he needed to answer.

first of all, i’m the first to admit: my boyfriend could have EASILY shut this all down, but he didn’t. he fed into the conversation; he answered your questions. he let you call me dramatic; in fact, he told you a story about me being “dramatic” in his eyes. i was so hurt; not even a month later, and my trust is being broken down again? wow. talk about a destruction of ones mental stability. you BROKE me down, and didn’t even have the nerve to bring it up to me after. you didn’t even address it; you completely acted like everything was fine. you completely acted like we were okay and that you weren’t talking shit. at least he told me everything. at least he had remorse.

and then, you had the nerve to ignore me. for two weeks. you had ME feeling like i did something wrong. all because you went behind my back and asked things about my personal life that no one but my boyfriend needed to know.

i can’t believe i fell for it, again.

07/26/19

we decided to talk on the phone. all is forgiven, all is well. i missed you. i came to visit you and him in june. everything was good, but i hadn’t talked to you in weeks. it felt strange. so we facetimed -- for 3 hours. We talked, and yet, you STILL figured out a way to dig up old skeletons. You still found a way to bring up the hurt, you still found a way to stir the pot.

your question was along the lines of asking me how many of the people he’s friends with i actually like; my boyfriend. he’s one of the nicest people i’ve ever met and he befriends every person: even the bad ones. And his friends have been so quick to defend him, as good friends would, even in negative situations. it’s a good quality, most of the time. for this moment, it was not.

i told you. i told you about one of the people i trusted in his life. but once again, you took that idea of trust and diminished it. you told me that she didn’t like you for telling me about everything in may. the night that my entire perception was changed again, and i realized that i really cannot trust anyone. and i called him: i called him and yelled at him. yelled at him for another lie, yelled at him for another problem, yelled at him because i, myself, had allowed myself to get hurt, again. i allowed myself to be vulnerable. i allowed myself to fall into the trap, again. it wasn’t until i started crying that i realized it wasn’t him anymore. i decided a month ago to forgive him. i decided a month ago to let myself heal. i decided a month ago to let it go, and let myself heal. but you never let me.

it was you.

i knew i had to cut you out after that. i knew that all of your actions were toxic and unwelcome. you kept bringing up everything and i couldn’t handle it. so i responded to everything like you were someone i didn’t know, and finally, i stopped responding. and then you texted, you said:

are you sure you’re okay?

even if you don’t want to talk about anything, i just wanted to ask because i haven’t heard from you recently. i’m sorry if i’m bugging you.

you were. but i am way too nice to EVER tell you that, so i lied. i told you i was fine, i told you i was busy, and i told you i never wanted to push you away. and because you always said you were just like me, you never bought it. so i finally told you: i told you why i was distant, i told you why i wasn’t okay.

and you never even opened my message.

so this is for you, my ex-friend. you showed me what it means to have a true, real friend. you showed me the reason that i can’t have your negativity in my life. you showed me everything toxic in the world, and i am so glad you’re not in my life anymore.

thank you for showing me that there is better.

thank you for showing me that i do deserve better.

and thank you for showing me that when i forgive someone, i am FORGIVING them. he did everything he could to fix the problem; you kept bringing it up.

goodbye. it was fun while it lasted.

[zephfair]

DVD ficlet meme fill Leo/Riario

For @idriseleven There is no way I can apologize for taking so long to fill the meme prompt you gave me back in October. I am ashamed.

And on top of that, I changed up the prompt--I AM A HORRIBLE FRIEND AND I AM VERY SORRY! Please punish me however you see fit! <3

@idriseleven​ asked for: Oh please oh please do one of your crack/fluff fics of DVD as the high school popular kid and nerd. Anybody you want. I'm interested in which of those nerds you imagine was the popular kid!

*The answer is: THEY'RE ALL NERDS

Originally, I envisioned Riario as the religious geek with Zita, Leo as the art geek, Zo as the kid who smokes and hustles, Nico as the under-underclassman who follows Leo around, Vanessa as the theater geek, Lorenzo and Giuliano as the athletic jocks, Lucrezia the cheerleader, Clarice the valedictorian.

But then I got a crazy idea for a Footloose parody and my TiVo actually recorded it the other week and let's just say I took it as a sign from the universe that a DVD/Footloose fusion should exist. I’m sorry; blame the TiVo.

If you’ve never seen that movie, it is still fun! And full of fun 1980s pop songs!

Leo slammed down the tray on the cafeteria table and nudged close to Zo’s chair. “So when are we leaving?”

“Leaving?” Zo said through a mouthful of unidentifiable chicken product.

“I told you, we’re going dancing tonight in—”

“Keep your voice down,” Zo hissed and cuffed the back of Leo’s head. “Do you want to get us both in trouble?”

“This place is bullshit. This entire school is bullshit. This insufferable county is bullshit. All of it—”

“Is bullshit,” Zo agreed. “But it doesn’t change the fact that we can get suspended and punished if you keep talking about partaking in illegal activities.”

“I still cannot believe that dancing and music is outlawed in this ridiculous fucking county.”

“Well, as long as our ‘leader,’” Zo made the air quotes, “is that prick Sixtus, and he runs the church and the town council and owns the sheriff’s department and county judges, well, we’re all fucked.”

Leo scrubbed at his face with impatient hands. “I’ll never forgive my father for making us move to this shithole full of closed-minded assholes.”

Zo mock-toasted him with a can of soda. “Cheers, mate.”

“Not you, Zo, you’re one of the few in this place who can see the real world and who wants to escape. And believe me, Zo, as soon as we graduate, we are out of here so fast, we’ll leave scorch marks.” Zo laughed bitterly but Leo went on, “If there were only something we could do to make it more tolerable for now. If there was some way to stick it to that sick fuck Sixtus.”

Then Leo’s gaze fell on his answer. He asked Zo slowly, “Can you introduce me to Girolamo Riario?”

Zo almost choked on the soda. “Oh no. No. No, no, no. First of all, I cannot introduce you because Riario fucking hates me. You fill his car with cow shit one time, and he threatens to kill you. And holds a grudge. And second, I would not introduce you even if he didn’t have a restraining order against me because you meeting him would be like,” Zo’s arms flailed wildly, “throwing a cigarette into gasoline. Boom!”

“Actually,” Leo said distractedly, still watching the young man across the room, “there is a very good chance that the cigarette would not, in fact, ignite the gasoline because it’s the fumes that typically—”

“Don’t get all technical with me,” Zo snapped. “You know exactly what I’m trying to say. Mixing you and Riario is just asking for certain doom. You’d lose your temper, he’d threaten you, and next thing you know, you’re in jail and he’s still Sixtus’ favorite little nephew, lording it over us all.”

“Yes, but if, if he doesn’t, well, then, maybe he’s the one who could change it all.”

Zo groaned and let his head fall onto the table. “We just have to make it through two more months. Two months! Can’t you wait that long?!”

“No,” Leo said briskly. “Now, help me come up with a plan to run into Riario.”

********

Zo found, to his horror, that Leo meant that quite literally and backed his decrepit VW Beetle directly into the passenger side of Riario’s sleek black Mustang.

Leo jumped out, hands spread apologetically, and went into a prepared speech about how he hadn’t seen the car and he’d happily pay for the damages. Riario stood there, trademark sunglasses on, clearly disbelieving every word.

“Aren’t you the one who transferred in halfway through our senior year?” he said finally, stopping Leo’s fulsome apologies.

“Yeah, I’m Leo.”

“I doubt you even have enough money to cover the cost of repairs,” Riario said bluntly. “Just forget it.”

Zo instinctively ducked, even from the safety of the passenger’s seat of Leo’s Bug. He saw Leo grit his teeth and try to be charming. For once.

“No, no this was totally my fault, and the very least I can do is to take care of it. And I’d love to do something extra, for you. How about I take you to dinner tonight?”

Riario bit off a little smile but only inclined his head. “There is no need. And no, I have plans.”

“Some other time, then?” Leo called after him, but Riario got back into his car and took off with a rev of the engine.

“What the fuck are you trying to do?” Zo asked when Leo got back into the Bug.

“I’m going to turn him to our side. And then maybe he can influence his uncle to change some of the rules around here.”

“This is only going to go one way—badly,” Zo told him, but Leo grinned as they took off, the Bug’s loose back bumper casting sparks as it dragged along the road.

*******

Leo began a campaign to “just happen” to be everywhere Riario might be at the same time. He bumped into him between classes. He couldn’t manhandle a lunch seat at the “popular table,” as Zo called it, but he did bribe an underclassmen to let him squeeze into a seat behind Riario, where he could still occasionally drop things and initiate conversation.

Zo watched Leo pursue Riario after school, but the Mustang left them in the dust on winding country roads when the Beetle couldn’t keep up. And Leo claimed that his stakeouts of the house showed Riario often didn’t come home until late, sometimes right at the town’s curfew.

Leo even cleaned up and attended church like the rest of the county who at least turned out to present themselves to Sixtus. Zo gave up trying to elbow him awake about five minutes into the sermon and enjoyed a nap himself.

But Riario stood firm against Leo’s advances. Zo was only surprised that he hadn’t taken legal action to stop Leo.

******

It all changed the evening Leo was sitting outside the drive-in diner and Riario pulled up. Normally, he was surrounded by a collection of various teens important to the local community—the Medici brothers who were venerated as jocks and whose family was in local government; Clarice who was dating a Medici but better known as the class valedictorian; Alfonso who was a dumb jock but an even bigger asshole bully than the Medicis; and Lucrezia, a relative of Riario’s who had a certain reputation. Leo had first thought about using her to get close to Riario, and she had shown some interest in him, but he recognized the haunted look in her eyes. She had been used and used every wile at her disposal to make it so far, and Leo was positive that she would be joining him and Zo in the mass exodus out of town as soon as she was able. He didn’t want to add to her nightmares.

So when Riario ordered food to-go, all alone, Leo followed him without a second thought. There was no way that Riario didn’t notice the VW’s lights, but Leo tried to hang back enough so it wasn’t completely noticeable. He missed him once, when Riario took a turn that Leo didn’t see until he was past, but he backed up and followed, heart beating quickly, wondering if Riario was leading him into a trap.

He pulled up to an abandoned rail car, gravel crunching under the tires, and parked next to Riario’s empty Mustang. Leo was wary of walking into the rail car, wondering if he were being set-up for something, but he finally did and found Riario sitting on the floor alone.

“You’ve found me,” Riario said.

“You haven’t made it easy,” Leo said, remaining standing.

Riario didn’t seem to care about the posturing. “I thought I would make it easier and get this confrontation over with. What do you want from me?”

“What makes you think I want anything?” Leo retorted automatically.

Riario sighed. “Because every single person who approaches me wants something. Whether it’s a favor from my uncle, a good word put in, or just the prestige of claiming to have me as a friend, everyone wants something.”

“That’s incredibly cynical of you,” Leo said, finally sitting down next to him. “But also remarkably perceptive.”

Riario smiled his mirthless little smile. “So what is it that you want from me?”

“I wanted a way to get at your uncle and somehow make him relax some of the ridiculous rules that surround this town,” Leo admitted to the quirk of Riario’s lips again. “I wanted freedom of speech and the freedom to listen to whatever music we want, and I even wanted to advocate for a prom. With dancing.”

Riario bent his head back and laughed.

“But now,” Leo went on and leaned closer, “there is something I want much more than that.”

“And what, exactly, would that be?” Riario’s quiet voice was a whisper across Leo’s lips.

“I just want you,” Leo said, closing the distance and kissing him.

*****

Leo didn’t know what to expect: maybe Riario’s friends bursting into the rail car and beating the shit out of him, maybe Riario pulling away then beating the shit out of him, maybe Zo slapping him awake in the middle of another interminable church service.

But he never would have expected Riario to open his mouth to him, to reach up and pull him closer, to card his fingers through Leo’s short hair and wrap a strong arm around his back. Leo melted into him, and when Riario tugged him to crawl over him, Leo went willingly.

******

“So,” Leo said sometime later while he smoked one of his forbidden cigarettes, “it looks like we have way bigger issues than getting your uncle to agree to a prom dance. I’m sure that premarital sex—especially between two males—will upset him even more.”

Riario paused in buttoning his shirt. “Actually, haven’t you heard the old school joke?” When Leo shook his head, Riario said, “Do you know why premarital sex is banned in the school? Because it might lead to dancing.”

“Oh that’s bad,” Leo said, but he chuckled anyway.

“Why do you want to hold a traditional prom? You don’t seem like the type who would even want to attend one.”

Leo shrugged. “Normally, no. But here, in this hellhole, it seemed like the best way to make your uncle rage out. While some of the students might actually enjoy it. Imagine what a romantic time: their first night listening to rock’n’roll and slow dancing in the gym. What’s not to love?”

“You have a strange definition of romance.”

“It’s a rite of passage for high school students. And since you deprived children have never had the privilege, I feel it is very important for me to spearhead this effort and make sure that we have the best, most stereotypical prom of any high school ever. And afterward,” Leo waggled his eyebrows at Riario, “there is the traditional deflowering.”

Riario rolled his eyes then leaned up to bite Leo’s bottom lip. “I believe we already took care of that.”

“Yes, well, I’m sure there’s more … gardening that can be done,” Leo said lamely as Riario kissed him firmly.

“And you want me to help you do this all behind the backs of my uncle, the school and the other leaders in town?”

“Yeah.”

Riario pulled away for a moment and looked into Leo’s eyes. “Fine. We’ll try. But only if you repay me in various sinful, immoral and totally inappropriate ways,” he said, running his hand up the inseam of Leo’s jeans.

“I can totally do that,” and Leo tackled him.

*******

After many devious schemes and near-misses and nail-biting tension, the outcasts like Zo and Leo banded together with the Medicis and other popular students to provide a prom like the world had never seen.

And Leo and Riario were voted prom kings and got to slow-dance in the spotlight in their matching rented tuxes with purple cummerbunds. Leo still had some of the pollen in his hair from where Riario had beaten him about the head with the orchid corsage Leo had tried to slip onto his wrist. Riario made it up to him by kissing him and groping his ass right in front of the entire senior class, and the town council assured each other that Sixtus was only spending the night in the hospital as a precaution because what were the chances he’d had a heart attack at exactly that moment.

And all the kids who wanted to leave town did and lived mostly happily ever after playing any music and dancing all they wanted.

[matthewhorton]

Pet Shop Boys, Introspective: An introduction

It took some time for house music to get to the UK, let alone make it up the A41 from the London clubs to the suburbs. I grew up in Berkhamsted, tucked into the Chiltern hills between Hemel Hempstead and Aylesbury, out on the north-west limb of Hertfordshire that poked (and still does, in fact) into Buckinghamshire. It wasn't a hotbed of musical endeavour and couldn't have dreamed of being at the vanguard of dance music even if it knew what it was. But, you know, some commuter-belt teenagers were switched on enough to realise things were changing, and once we knew something thrilling was afoot, we wanted to share it with our friends. The tentative proddings of hip-hop had made a difference to us and when Run-D.M.C. made a fantastic mess of Aerosmith or Melle Mel sexed up Chaka Khan we had something fresh to cling onto. But house only started to make its presence felt when the mainstream succumbed too and plonked Steve 'Silk' Hurley's Jack Your Body right on top of the UK singles chart at the start of 1987. This was alien stuff, sparse, hypnotic and like nothing we'd heard before – it took electro, something we were vaguely aware of, and drained it of melody, hope and street-swagger, replacing it with harder beats and blank-eyed repetition. If nothing else, this was dead cool. And it was Number One! Well, the floodgates were open now. The higher reaches of the singles chart soon fell to M/A/R/R/S's Pump Up The Volume, Bomb The Bass's Beat Dis and S'Express's Theme From S'Express as sampling rapidly became the lingua franca of cutting-edge dance and scratchier, less refined house music found an audience of some power. Mind you, these were the poppiest extremes. In the hands of a canny producer, sampling could sound cartoon-like and you have to wonder how many of the hordes of buyers were picking up these records because they amused them rather than moved their purist feet. House, techno, whichever Chicago, Detroit or New York enclave floated your boat – these movements had spread their commercial wings with alarming speed. Of course, we didn't really know the difference at the beginning, but all that changed in the summer of 1988 – the Second Summer of Love, to adopt the nickname thrown at a loose scene by the music and style bibles. It was an extraordinary experience, even without the drugs or the sweaty London basements or even the right clothes. The backdrop to a day of realisation was almost unbearably prosaic. In fact, it was the day of our GCSE results, our passports to a professional life or a couple more years of school beyond the age of 16. Some brave soul was throwing a party a few miles outside Berkhamsted and, although our own little crowd didn't know her, we had enough mutual friends to be able to stride in, no questions asked. It was an enormous house with huge gardens but – on a close, sticky August evening – everything was happening in the garage. This was almost too good. Weren't all the best New York parties garage parties? We're not sure they were thinking about a space big enough to fit a Ford Escort, a gardening implement or two and some empty cans of paint, but what the hell? This garage would do, and it was pumping out sounds deep enough to rival any Manhattan warehouse. These sounds were almost too deep though. If Steve 'Silk' Hurley had sounded stark and austere, this was barely even music. It was an unassuming little cassette squirting out loops and bleeps, and in the middle of the garage one of the hipper lads in our year was giving an accidental dancing lesson to a crowd of amused acolytes. He'd grown his hair since term finished a month or two earlier, pushed out a pair of massive sideburns and discovered a new fondness for washed-out denim and vast badges with smiley faces on them. His name was Tom and he had a copy of Acid Tracks. Phuture's acid masterpiece has its firm place in history now, but out in the Home Counties in August 1988 it was a bewildering curio, potent and divisive. The boys and girls who laughed or scoffed that night probably carried on laughing and scoffing throughout the nineties and continue to now – if they ever give dance music a second thought. The more welcoming remainder felt their doors of perception opening, and they were high on little more than cheap cider and even cheaper cigarettes. Naturally, I can't speak for everyone else, but I never looked back after that night. My GCSE results were underwhelming – the inevitable result of boundless arrogance and minimal revision – but they were good enough to send me back to school for another couple of years; two years that were followed by another four years of lazy and undeserved achievement at university, and a career that gradually slipped into focus. Whatever, I'd fallen hard for the dance music bug and every week in sixth form was a drawn-out drag of a warm-up for another weekend party I could light up with my amazing mixtapes. No one else had been bitten quite so deep so there was no competition for the stereo – whatever the quality of my compilations, I was the only one who was going to get the dancefloor (usually the kitchen floor, let's face it) jumping. The collection I built up and the knowledge I amassed gave me the keys to the university decks too, launching a semi-professional (or, more accurately, quarter-professional) career as a DJ with no actual technical skills. Good God, what about the Pet Shop Boys? Well, they took dance music to the masses in 1988 too. They'd been heading this way, of course. From the early electro burblings of their nascent career in the first half of the eighties, Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe had been fashioning a curiously English take on the dance music coming out of the United States. More strictly, they had been taken with Hi-NRG, where disco met euphoric electronic climaxes on the gay scene, and particularly New York's Hi-NRG producer-supreme Bobby 'O' (Bobby Orlando to his mum). Tennant and Lowe had already written many of the songs that would become polite pop classics later in the decade, but they didn't lay down serious recordings until they found an audience with Orlando. With their main man in the chair, they made an early, disco-orientated version of their breakthrough hit West End Girls in 1984. It created waves in the right circles but failed to hit commercial paydirt, not even managing a full UK release. No matter – pop triumph could wait; the first fumblings were all about implanting pure dance chops in their DNA. The route to the UK charts and ensuing international fame took hard-nosed ambition and a small dose of compromise. The producer Stephen Hague had tasted some success with the poppier ends of electro personified by The Rocksteady Crew and Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark's less challenging synthpop, and his safe hands repurposed West End Girls for the late 1985 Number One slot that made the Pet Shop Boys' name.  Sharp lyrics and a craftsman's way with a pop tune saw Tennant and Lowe build on that quick winner to consistently race to the top of the singles chart over the next couple of years and achieve similar results with their first two albums, 1986's Please and 1987's Actually. The dry titles suited their sardonic manner and unshowy presentation, but there was real heart to the Pet Shop Boys' music too. No genuine cold fish could come up with the delicate Love Comes Quickly, the at once pointed and ambiguous Rent or the breathtakingly poignant What Have I Done To Deserve This?, also a remarkable revamp of the career of sixties blue-eyed soul legend Dusty Springfield.  But underneath this golden age of British pop that the 'Boys were almost singlehandedly ushering in (no exaggeration), there was a bubbling subculture that could not be ignored – and Tennant and Lowe had no intention of ignoring it. Rare were the bands who curated alternative versions of their own music, but the Pet Shop Boys threw themselves right in, second-guessing fans who might attempt to convince naysayers with the old "Yeah, but you have to hear their remixes" gambit. Wedged between Please and Actually was a companion piece that pointed the way to a parallel universe. Disco, released in autumn 1986, was officially endorsed and presented as beautifully as any 'regular' Pet Shop Boys album. It consisted of remixes of hits like West End Girls, Opportunities (Let's Make Lots Of Money) and Suburbia alongside fan favourite (and Suburbia B-side) Paninaro, the sort of track whispered about by the in-the-know Pet Shop Boys aficionado. They'd blown apart the cachet of rarities like that but at the same time took a hold of their own destiny and shaped a 360-degree market for pop's more canny operators. The next imperial pop star to shove out their own remix album was Madonna, You Can Dance arriving a year after Disco. That second album proper, Actually, came out in September 1987 and threw the Pet Shop Boys' chart dominance into sharp relief. It housed two Number One singles in the obliquely confessional It's A Sin and the more straightforward Heart, and even took the time to stand back in between as non-album single Always On My Mind (a cover of the country standard made glorious by Elvis Presley) took the 1987 UK Christmas top spot. As 1988 dawned, the Pet Shop Boys could do whatever they darn well pleased. That's what they did and that's why we're here. Introspective turned up in October 1988 and turned the entire remix album concept on its head. What if we release the extended versions first and cut the radio edits later? That, near enough, is the off-beam question that struck Tennant and Lowe. They could finally be the dance act that made the odd concession to the pop market, not the other way around. It was a dazzling thought. Introspective's closest antecedent was The League Unlimited Orchestra's Love And Dancing EP in 1982, a collection of Human League remixes handled entirely in-house by their producer Martin Rushent. But that was the accidental result of fulfilling 12" obligations – with Introspective, the Pet Shop Boys wanted to trump that thinking, to make the full-length track the thing, the single mix the obligation, even the afterthought. This new thinking was symphonic, a new way of looking at dance music, or at least a return to Giorgio Moroder's intentions. What could have seemed like an interim album in the vein of Disco became a genuine opus in its own right. All it needed was the public to think beyond its relatively few tracks – six of them, but in their extended form still topping 48 minutes – and accept that it stood alone. Ostensibly the sales bore this out as it ultimately became the Pet Shop Boys' biggest selling album, but appreciation of its artistic status was a tougher challenge. With its bold striped sleeve – human images confined to the inner sleeve or card – Introspective seemed to be reaching out to the anonymous dance spheres, a white label in Technicolor, bright but austere and, yes, inhuman. Inside, however, was a concept album that truly hung together as a piece, disparate parts joining up in an exploration of that most human of conditions: loneliness. Introspective was the sound of the dancefloor in your head.