#and all that kata stuff would be revealed in this

[wrencatte]

the more I think about this coruscant crew mission fic the more excited i get.

[luvrbug]

Hi! I just checked out your writing and i love it!! May I request something with katakuri and how on earth he would develop a relationship with a normal sized s/o? If not thats okay :)

katakuri is like ... right next to mihawk on "literally the most flawless man ever" list . he just wants his donuts and to make his sweet spouse happy. not much size stuff was mentioned butttt i dont think that would matter much to him! it probably would. make things awkward in the bedroom. but thats about as much as he's concerned with it.

«─────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ───────────»

Katakuri

▸ Any romantic partner is likely arranged by Big Mom- she needs those political alliances, and what better way to show her utmost commitment than marry off her strongest child?

▸ Katakuri is.. less than pleased with this news. He'll do anything for his family and to ensure Big Mom is happy- but his own reservations cause him to seem standoffish and cold at first.

▸ He doesn't want to force any affection on you. He wouldn't mind having someone to confide in and .... maybe someday come to love. But he understands your feelings of being forced into this marriage.

▸ There was no kiss at the wedding, no "consumation", you sleep in different beds and never eat meals together. It can feel like Katakuri despises you sometimes.

▸ If word somehow gets out that you feel neglected or like Kata is upset at you (likely from brulee after you confided in her) he'll start making more appearances. Even if its just to read the paper while you eat breakfast in the morning.

▸ These domestic, quiet moments give way to you developing feelings for this big, intimidating mochi man. He's such a protective, calming presence. Nothing will ever hurt you with Katakuri standing guard.

▸ He's developed a fondness for you. Its a soft love, one that he quietly nurtures during his Merienda with domestic fantasies of you. He'll start to drop some subtle hints that his feelings go deeper than friendship.

▸ All of this subtle fondness, glances, soft touches, and other shows of affection come to a head one day in his office. You brought him a bento for lunch, chiding him for working himself too hard and not taking breaks.

▸ And Katakuri is just gazing down at you with the softest, sweetest look in his eyes as you get all huffy and irritated. You stop your little tirade while he just... looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

▸ Katakuri never imagined having enough trust to reveal his face to anyone, but when your tiny hands pull down his fluffy scarf and press gentle kisses all over his skin - he couldn't imagine life any other way.

[jinmukangwrites]

weep little lion man (6/14)

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Fandom: Jedi: Fallen Order / Survivor Rating: T Warnings: N/A Ao3 Notes: still playing upload catch up, truly didn't mean to fall behind from uploading to Tumblr. There's one more chapter to upload after this! I update the fic every Thursday on Ao3, and I'm hopeful to get back on track for Tumblr as well :3

Summary: After defeating Dagan Gera for a third and final time, the Compass ends up in Bode's hands without a scratch. He could go back to Jedha with Cal... but he's holding what he wants. He doesn't see the point in pretending any longer. He makes a split-second decision. Or: Bode's betrayal goes a bit differently.

~°~

When Bode wakes, it's to pure peace.

Peace that he hasn't felt in a long, long, time.

His daughter, his sun, his moon, his stars, sleeps against his side, hair a mess, a soft smile on her peaceful face. It takes every ounce of strength Bode has to consider leaving; to stand up and let time move forward. If he's had his way, it would be just like this, for the rest of his life.

But he has work to do.

Slowly and carefully, he inches out of the bed. Kata mumbles and shifts, not waking, thank the stars. She deserves some rest. She can sleep in every day for the rest of her life.

He quickly changes into a new pair of clothes, and belts his holsters onto his body in the usual places. He checks over his blasters before putting them in place, pausing when he notices a third blaster that no longer belongs to him.

He should return it to Cal.

He can't help but feel happy at the thought of having an excuse to see Cal. Surely, today will go better than yesterday. Time and sleep could fix most anything, all Cal needed was to adjust. Surely he must realize how unhappy and unsafe he was while trying to one-man army the Empire. Their little spat last night, and the cold argument hours before that should be clearer now to the both of them.

He sneaks out of Kata's chosen bedroom, looking up and down the corridor and frowning when he realizes he doesn't exactly know where Cal had settled in for the night. He goes further down the corridor, checking the empty rooms as he goes, until he eventually finds a room which's door catches on the duffle Bode had given Cal.

He sighs in relief, opening the door further, but frowning when the room itself looks entirely untouched; not a single piece of dust disturbed.

He exits the bedroom, standing at the end of the corridor at a loss. Where else could Cal be, if not in one of these rooms?

Memories of the argument last night flutters into the forefront of his mind and he curses. He let Cal rile him up, get him angry, and Bode said things he shouldn't have. He can't count the amount of times he'd go to check on Cal back at Koboh just to find his bedroom empty and the kid turning out to be scaling cliffs and taming wild animals while under the moonlight. Cal doesn't sleep, especially if he's emotionally compromised.

He's outside.

And he's been outside all night.

He stuffs Cal's blaster into his belt and storms out of the room.

-o-o-o-o-

When Cal wakes, he wakes slowly. His body has arranged itself into something somewhat comfortable on cool ground, and the morning weather is perfectly decent; not too hot, not too cold. He opens his eyes slightly, thankfully the cliff had casted him in a shadow, so it's not too bright to look around.

He doesn't move quite yet. There's something foreboding about the thought of moving so soon.

He can feel his body, no problem. He doesn't feel injured; just majorly sore in a way that feels comforting and familiar instead of the soreness he had been suffering the day before. Nothing feels pulled, or torn, or punctured.

But he still doesn't move.

Subconsciously, he knows something is wrong. He knows that the second he stretches his legs and moves himself up so he's sitting, the wrongness will reveal itself. It's a terrifying peace before the storm; like sitting in an open field and watching a thunderstorm slowly approach. The sun still shines from behind, and the breeze is still friendly. Yet, that storm will arrive, and it'll last days, and the simple peaceful times will be a lost memory.

He slowly begins to realize what's waiting for him; it's lurking, eagerly waiting for his brain to turn on for it to pounce. He doesn't regret coming out last night, but he begins to regret sleeping out last night while in the chill, covered in sweat.

So he savors this peace for a little while, cursing himself for only making things harder.

Once the shadow of the cliff moves a little bit, and the position he's laying carefully unmoving in starts to become uncomfortable, he finally gives in.

He places his hands under his elbows and lifts himself up. His knee protests in still healing anger, but that's not what has him groaning.

It's the pounding in his skull, a stinging at the back of his throat, the blocked airways of his nostrils that he knows won't fully clear even if he found something to blow his nose with.

Great. He's caught a cold.

It's not bad, nothing he can't deal with right now. His immune system is practically a solid chunk of beskar, a year on Bracca alone introduced his body to more diseases and viruses than he'd ever encounter on a nice sterile ship as a Padawan, or even while on the battlefield of the Clone Wars. Kinda came with the mixing pot of species all squished together in tight spaces for cheap, hard labor territory.

He clears his throat and fixes his garments, looking around for his jacket so he doesn't have to walk back to the temple in just his sleeveless, sweat-stained training shirt. Bracca may have done wonders for his immune system, but nothing can help his complexion. Even on the rare partly cloudy days on Bracca his bare skin could redden. Prauf used to poke fun at him for that.

"Alright, Bd," he sighs, clearing a croaking throat as he stretches, "let's-"

Oh... yeah.

He clears his throat again, sniffing, and tugs his arms into his jacket and double checks the presence of his lightsaber.

Time to get today over with.

-o-o-o-o-

"I don't want you sleeping outside again," Bode says as they walk through the forest.

Bode had spent the whole morning worrying about Cal, even Kata had noticed it, asking him if he was okay while he made a fire to heat up breakfast rations. Cal returned closer to noon than to sunrise, caked with smears of dirt and bags under his eyes. He looked pale, still does actually, but had refused to explain his night's actions more than a I only did what you suggested.

Cal sniffs. "That a rule?"

Bode scowls at him, but turns back to the trail ahead of them. He had scouted the area after unloading Cal from the cargo-hold and finding a place to hide his jet. He had seen wildlife grazing east of the temple, wildlife that were potentially able to be domesticated. If not, they'll at least show where the edible plants are. Bode had made it clear to Cal earlier that morning that he expected Cal to help with chores and assist in making a self-sustainable home for the three of them. He had expected an argument, but Cal just shrugged and asked what needed to be done first.

"If it has to be," Bode replies. "Though it should be common sense. What if you catch a cold?"

Cal rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever you say."

And it leaves off there.

Bode resists frowning. It's like Cal has completely switched his personality through the night. What was a burning anger and a palpable sense of betrayal just a cycle ago... is now just... aloof. Bode can't tell what he's thinking, or how he's feeling, and it's slowly starting to make Bode feel worse than if Cal had still been visibly angry.

Bode's seen Cal get this way a few times before; this natural deflection of whatever truth rages within him. The first time had been on Coruscant while Cal repaired an ascension cable; Bode had tried to nonchalantly dig for information about Cere Junda but Cal had carefully kept from mentioning anything damning... not because he had pinpointed Bode's intentions with the questioning, but because Cal had hard feelings about the topic. About Cere.

Another time was long after Bode had reunited with Cal on Koboh. He had asked about Cal's love life with Merrin, and he got dodgy. That must have been because he must have had feelings for the woman, but the Jedi's oaths of celibacy was something he was struggling with.

The other times were not as obvious, just simple glimpses into what Cal had thought about his old family. The way his voice went flat while talking about his time alone, how he put on a fake smile the first time they approached Jedha, how he always avoided using the bed Greez provided specifically for him.

Bode hadn't expected this kind of concealment to be directed at himself, though it's not like he had expected to care if Cal hated him or not either. And for once, he doesn't know how to read this.

Cal's upset with Bode, and Cal's no longer going to be transparent about the why.

And deep down, that frustrates Bode.

Tanalorr wasn't a place for secrets, not between Bode's family. Bode had promised himself and Cal that there was no reason to keep secrets. Well, all except one, but he'd tell that secret to Cal once he accepts his place on Tanalorr.

He breathes a mental sigh to calm himself. Cal's understandably angry. Let him process at his own pace. He'll open up again soon enough.

Cal clears his throat, he's been doing that all morning, and continues walking to where Bode is leading.

Bode stays silent for the rest of the journey, he doesn't know what to say.

Eventually, they make it to the field where he had seen the grazing fauna. However, that's not the highlight of the day. Yes, it was exciting to see that the fauna still hung around and that they were flightless poultry that weren't native to Tanalorr, but purposely brought by the Jedi two hundred years ago with the intention of domesticating. Bode doubts there's a single fauna larger than the tip of his pinky finger that are native to Tanalorr.

No, truly, that discovery was important, but it wasn't what lingered at the forefront of Bode's mind even as they let the fauna be with plans to build, or repair, an enclosure for them.

On the way back, Cal breaks off from Bode toward what appears to be another destroyed ship; a relic of an ancient war. This one is recognizably High Republic, the Jedi symbol stamped across one of the wings. Bode watches intently as Cal approaches the fighter jet, the younger man having already pulled off one of his gloves like it wasn't even an afterthought.

Psychometry.

Bode's always wondered what that's like.

The Jedi had never been too fond of obsessing over the past, nor the future. Visions, many said, were a path to the dark side. The Jedi were also hypocrites. Casting aside prophecies until they were convenient. Bode's honestly sure that the only reason Cal was allowed to continue into Padawan-ship despite his rare ability was because Anikin Skywalker's existence challenged their views first. The future didn't exist, and the past didn't matter... until they both did.

Bode watches, fascinated by how Cal goes about his investigations, brushing his fingertips along places most likely to have been touched. He doesn't fall into any trances; the kind where his body goes stock still and his eyes unfocus, sometimes rolling to the back of his head. He does pause every so often, his eyebrows creasing and his eyes closing with a sharp downward turn to his lips, but as Bode carefully reaches out with the Force, all he feels back concerning Cal's greater emotions is mild frustration at none of the echoes being stronger. Bode backs off before Cal can notice him pressing. Bode doesn't want Cal to feel more invaded than he already is.

Bode's a little glad none of the echoes are stronger. How Cal manages to continue to be so firmly himself through the strong ones is beyond Bode. How many lives has he lived? How many points of views? How many times has he felt death, or victory, intense love, suffocating fear? He'd done a little research into psychometry when he had been assigned to get close to Cal—"little" being relative, he couldn't do much study when there wasn't much to be found—but he at least knows that those with the ability experience the memories as if they were there themselves. Bode can't imagine being in someone else's mind, seeing how they see, feeling what they feel, thinking the way they think.

Maybe that's why Cal's always been so deeply kind and patient toward most people he met. He has an empathy far deeper than most will ever know.

Which stings a little, that Cal's so firmly decided Bode is wrong in what he's trying to do here; choosing instead to wallow in his own self righteousness instead of trying to see from Bode's side and...

And maybe that's the trick of it. Why Cal so stubbornly remains himself. Maybe, somewhere in his consciousness, he's drawn lines. Things he won't back down on. Things he's made a core at what makes Cal Cal. Maybe, what Bode's doing is challenging one of those core things that make Cal. It's not something he's willing to see from another point of view.

Bode just has to figure out what exactly is holding Cal up on this kind of life. Help him through it. Maybe see if Bode can... he doesn't know... make an echo? Force Cal to see things differently with Bode's eyes?

Somehow, Bode gets the feeling that would be more of an invasion for Cal than it would be for Bode. So he stashes the idea somewhere at the back of his head with the other last case scenarios.

Cal pokes his head further into the jet's cockpit, both hands reaching in despite one still being gloved. Curious, Bode advances closer instead of watching at a distance. He has enough experience with spacecraft to know when something is doomed to never fly again, and this jet certainly falls in that category, so he's not worried about Cal jumping into the pilot's chair and taking off—though fruitless that effort would be without the compass.

"Find something interesting?" He asks.

Cal doesn't jump, but the way his body springs up for just a moment suggests a monumental effort to not react. Bode presses a tight smile to his lips; he didn't mean to startle Cal.

Cal glances at him, then clears his throat. "Not really, the pilot was a Jedi, she survived the crash, she didn't leave many strong emotions."

That's probably a good thing that she didn't leave strong emotions. If Bode knows Jedi, which he's pretty sure he does, most Jedi who show strong emotions are ones who fall to negativity. Their darkness. Struggling with one's own Dark Side is hard enough without experiencing someone else's. Bode knows he himself has distanced himself from the Force because his own connection can get dicey as of late.

Cal hums, backing away from the jet and replacing the glove on his bare hands. "Let's head back," he says, glancing at Bode with an eyebrow raised before walking away back toward the temple. He clears his throat again as he walks away.

Bode watches him go for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek. There it is again. That aloofness. There's no discernable anger, but there's no friendliness. It's like Cal's decided to treat him like a stranger. Which, fair. Cal's not lying that much of what their relationship had started as was all lies.

Bode wishes he could shake sense into Cal. Show him how good they could have it here if he'd just give in.

For now, he follows Cal back to the temple, telling himself over and over that Cal just needs time.

-o-o-o-o-

The sun is setting, and Cal's head pounds. Not only that, but throughout the day he's only gotten more congested. The entire day he's felt like he's been slowly suffocating, forcing himself to breathe though barely parted lips unless Bode looked at him, to which Cal would shut his mouth and hold his breath until Bode looked away.

He doesn't know why he's trying so hard to hide a simple, growing cold. Maybe he's afraid Bode knowing about it would hinder his plans to explore the area more on his own; or maybe he's just stubbornly trying to keep together what little pride he has left. Catching a cold on the first night feels embarrassing in ways that it shouldn't.

He brings the back of his hand to his nose, casually wiping like he had an itch, as Kata silently plays with her Mookie doll. A circle of stones corral a small fire, a pot Kata had found in the temple hung over it, boiling water. Bode had left the two of them alone while he's off getting more firewood; which feels wrong for a whole bunch of reasons. The man kidnaps Cal and then leaves him alone with his daughter like there's nothing weird about that.

Cal doesn't know how to act around Kata.

Obviously, she's innocent in everything. It's not hard to separate her character from her father's. She's smart for how small she is. Mature in ways Cal wasn't when he was her age. But she's still a child. A child who enjoys playing with dolls and singing songs to herself.

"Hey Cal? Can I ask you a question?" Kata suddenly asks.

Cal blinks. She's also unapologetically curious.

"Of course," he responds, pushing the discomfort of his own body to the back-burner, throwing her a smile. "Besides that one, I'm assuming?"

She doesn't look at him while she continues to play with the doll, walking it across the log.

"What's important to you?"

Out of all questions, Cal hadn't expected that one. Cal doesn't know many—if any at all—kids, but he's pretty sure kids don't ask questions like that to strangers they've just met. Cal would have expected something like, what's his favorite color, or where is he from, or can she see his lightsaber.

Getting philosophical with a child isn't at all what he was expecting.

The back of his throat tickles, and he clears it. "Um," he says, trying to figure out how honest he should be with a child he'd just met. A child he's going to be spending a considerable amount of time around for the time being until he can find a way to escape. A child who's just as victimized in this as he is, even if she doesn't know it. A child... who's looking at him now with an open interest and a raised eyebrow, expecting an answer.

He sighs, his shoulders dropping.

"My... mission."

"What's that?"

He brings a hand to the back of his neck, tugging on the shirt hairs. "Holding the line. Fighting the Empire. Protecting people. I'm a Jedi, one of the last, and I have to keep my people's memories alive."

She nods. "What else?"

What else? Stars, could the girl just ask to see his lightsaber or a cool Force trick?

He clears his throat. It's really starting to smart. "My family," he continues. "They accepted me when I had no one, I'd do anything for them. Other things too, but those are the most important."

"I see. Thank you, Cal."

He awkwardly nods his head. She looks like she's solved the secrets to the universe, but whatever answers she's found in their short conversation, she keeps to herself.

Feeling off-put, he lowers his hands into his lap. "Do you, uh, want to see a Force trick?"

Her face scrunches up for a second. "My papa can do those."

"Oh," Cal says, suddenly feeling distant. "Right. I... forgot."

Bode's a Jedi.

Bode used the Force on Cal. Only once, in their initial scuffle, and he hasn't visually used the Force since... but he used the Force.

"You can still show me tricks, though," Kata continues, unaware of his inner turmoil. "If you know new ones."

Cal pushes the turmoil down and makes sure his smile looks friendly as he reaches forward with one hand, using the Force to wrap around the Mookie doll. She smiles as she lets go of the doll, laughing as he concentrates as moves the doll, limb after limb.

Mookie does a jaunty little walk down the log and then back towards Kata, jumping up her arm and hugging her around her shoulder. She giggles and takes the doll back in her hands, hugging it tight to her chest.

"Papa usually just makes rocks float," she says, amusement brightening her tone and making her sound her age.

"Papa thinks his floating rocks are cool," Bode cuts in, announcing his arrival.

Cal gives an inner speech of encouragement before turning and watching Bode set down a load of firewood before he sits down on his own log opposite of their little fire pit. He reaches over and hands out rations, then leans over the boiling water with a smile. "Good thing I thought of grabbing tea-bags."

Cal hums, looking down at his rations and taking a bite. He can't lie, the thought of tea is tempting. Bode gets to work filling three scavenged (and cleaned) mugs with the water and then dropping the bags into the hot liquid. The smell immediately washes around them, miraculously clearing Cal's sinuses just for a promising moment.

"So," Bode says, "let's talk about rules."

Cal looks up. Bode wants to talk about this now? In front of his daughter?

"Rules?" Kata asks and Bode nods.

"Rules. The three of us have this planet all to ourselves, which means we are the only ones who can take care of it, and of each other. We all need to do our part. Do you have any ideas, Kata?"

Her nose scrunches as she thinks for a moment. "Keep... our rooms clean?"

Bode snaps a finger. "Keep our rooms clean! Good one, baby girl! But what happens if we don't keep our rooms clean?"

Kata thinks for a moment longer, then smiles. "You have to clean everyone else's rooms for a week!"

Bode looks thoughtful, then nods. "We can work with that. Okay, my turn. Everyone has to be back at the temple by nightfall. If you aren't... you're in charge of breakfast in the morning. Your turn, scrapper."

Bafflement isn't anywhere close to what Cal's feeling right now. Bode raises an eyebrow, eyes so persistently not looking at Cal's face, and Cal wants to scream. He feels like he's being held hostage, forced to be civil for a conversation he truly wasn't expecting to be civil. He could argue, but that would probably scare Kata. He could play along, but that would give Bode a win.

Damn. He fights from openly glaring at Bode. "Take turns with chores. You skip out, you do extra the next day."

Bode nods, even though Cal's answer had been lazy. Stars, his head hurts.

The list of rules grows as Bode turns the conversation through a few more rounds, each person giving a rule and a consequence, nothing too steep, nothing too punishing. A few rounds in, he hands out the now steeped tea, and Cal tries not to look too thankful for the beverage and how it feels so good down his throat.

Thankfully, it eventually ends with a hefty, reasonable list as if a group of reasonable—hah—people had made it. Bode looks like he's about to send Kata to bed, but the girl startles him with a question that has Cal's ears pirking.

"Papa, how long are we going to be here?"

Bode flounders for a second, before responding gently. "This is our new home, Kata."

Her eyebrows drop, and Cal keeps his eyes on Bode, breath drawn, as she continues. "It's lonely. I don't like it here."

A thousand emotions seem to flicker across Bode's face. Conflicting ones. Ones that has Bode turning his entire body away from Cal. "It'll get better, baby. Now how about you head off to bed, papa needs to talk with Cal a little bit."

She looks between the two of them, then slowly stands up. She retreats, and Cal wonders how many conversations had gone just like that between her and her father in the past, the blatant dismissal.

Bode watches her go, before bringing a hand to his chin and sighing the second she's out of earshot. "If you sneak off at night, if you try to steal my jet or the Compass, if you don't pull your weight, I'll lock you in that room you picked out until you regret it."

There it is.

"What if I fight back?"

Bode sighs.

"Or I run?"

Bode squeezes his eyes shut.

"Bode, you can't seriously think I'd let you lock me anywhere again."

He slams a hand down on the log, and Cal quiets, holding his cooling tea. "Because I know you won't hurt me," Bode says, voice deep and steely. "Not with Kata relying so much on me. Not while there's nowhere else for you to go. If you fight back, you know I'm a lot more comfortable hurting you than you are of hurting me."

Cal holds his breath for a second, skull pounding, throat protesting, and he releases it. "Okay."

Bode seems to relax, before glancing at Cal for just a moment. "Your turn, scrapper."

Cal startles. He had thought the conversation over. "What?"

"What are your hard rules, your boundaries? This is a two way road. Give what you demand."

Cal almost wants to scoff, stand up, and leave the conversation. But he considers it for a moment, then, screw it, decides to humor him.

"Don't tie me up," he says, and Bode twitches. "I'll help with chores, but in-between them I'm allowed free time to explore and be on my own, and I get the benefit of the doubt if I accidentally stumble across anything. I'll be honest if you catch me doing something I shouldn't. No more lying." Now that he's started, he can't stop. "Stop calling me scrapper. Don't talk about my family. I also want that muzzle thrown off a kriffing cliff."

Silence settles for a suffocating second until Bode slowly nods. "Reasonable. If I break any of the rules?"

"Locked in a room until you regret it," Cal says coldly.

Bode sighs. "Alright."

Cal lifts the mug to his lips and finishes off the tea, refusing to look at Bode any longer, his barely stringed together sanity finally taking a toll. Bode finishes his own cup, then stands up.

"I'll see you in the morning, Cal," he says softly, then he grabs the pot and dumps the extra water into the fire.

Cal stays where he is for a little while, even as Bode walks away and enters the temple. It's not quite sundown, but there's not enough light to think about going out if being back before dark is so important to Bode.

He closes his eyes, and does his best to consider today a victory. He got to go out and explore the planet, and he saw another crashed ship. He got some straight answers out of Bode, and now he can finally make some plans.

Help out with chores, then go out to find a way off this planet in his free time. Keep within Bode's lines, and he'd be home free.

He sniffs, his nose stubbornly clogging again now that the tea is gone. He can only hope now that his cold doesn't get worse and complicate things.

He really doesn't need things to be more complicated.

With a sigh, he leaves the steaming campfire and enters the temple, walking into his chosen prison cell. There are folded blankets on the bed, new ones, ones that wouldn't look so nice if they had been here for two hundred years.

Bode must have put them there.

Cal doesn't have it in him to feel grateful.

[sameteeth]

im actually kinda mad at how they made nya be the water ninja. she's strong as samurai x, and was capable of beating the ninja right up until they reveal its *gasp* a GIRL! and then ofc her element is water, and wu and misako's shit handling of the whole situation pisses me off. theyre such useless mentors imo - wu can't see past his own mysticism and very rarely deigns to help, and misako is Wu But A Woman And Slightly Weaker. (ninja-knox-ur-sox-off has a good theory/meta on why misako couldve been one of ninjagos greatest villians, check out their stuff) honestly they couldve been replaced with teapots and the plot wouldve had the same flow. anyways, ignoring ninjago's lackluster character wrangling, nya's critical moment of truth, where she needs to defeat the preeminent, just ends with her summoning a big wave and doing it in one hit. which is fine, whatever, but there's so much more they could have done with it!

in her water ninja training, nya's weakness is her perfectionism. she's very talented and picks up skills quickly, so not being able to have immediate control over her powers is frustrating. she gets angry and gives up (similar to kai) and it takes ronin of all people to show her that it's ok to fail.

nya's been surrounded by all these impossibly strong people - the ninja, born with elemental powers, lloyd who becomes incredibly powerful, wu who is their teacher, and even misako, who is smart and seasoned. they are constantly in high-stakes situations they barely make it out of alive. (sometimes they dont make it out alive.) of course she's going to struggle with the idea of perfection - she needs to be perfect and smart and seasoned and have elemental powers and battle experience so she can save not only lloyd, but the other ninja and the entirety of ninjago. that's a LOT of pressure to put on someone!!!! especially when they are newly awakened to their powers and suddenly they are the only one capable of helping.

but nya is the element of water, a powerful and versatile element. and like water, she must persist. each raindrop adds to the flood that can level towns. her final, massive wave against the preeminent is impressive, but i would have rather seen nya struggle to summon more than a few raindrops. she fails. she fails, and tries again. with ronin and kai behind her, supporting her. cheering her on. and nya tries again, makes small waves the preeminent doesn't even notice. so she gets back up and embraces the failure and tries again. one droplet can cleave mountains. nya tries and tries and tries and lets herself fail! and she forgets the pressure mounting, the scared people only she can protect, she just flows. lets the power move through her, with her, and feels her strength and understanding grow with every misstep. she isn't trying to grasp the water anymore - she *is* the water. waves of all sizes crash into the preeminent, chaos created by an elemental master who hasn't had years of experience with her element or a mother to guide her through her kata balanced on the mirror-surface of a pond.

the preeminent falls, worn and battered like a broken jetty, eroded away by the constant water. the preeminent falls because nya gave up on doing things perfectly - she just went with the flow.

[furiosophie]

Hi, I saw you enjoyed Fallen Order, would you consider writing something about it?

Asking for a friend, not because you are my favorite fanfic writer

ahh thank you anon, i'm glad you enjoy my stories - i set this in the oh the things we left behind universe bc this idea has been knocking around in my head for ages, i hope that's okay :)

temple ruins

read on ao3

I’m right here, Cal hears echoing through his mind, overwhelming and steady and precious and warm, too far away to grasp yet so tangible still even in his dream, something far and distant dissolving, closer, closer, closer, snapping back into orbit, two entities becoming more than the sum of their parts, stitched together, bright against the emptiness of the universe.

He startles awake with a gasp, heart hammering in his chest. Beside him, Merrin stirs with a huff, not quite awake. The air is heavy around them, warm and sticky with the smell of summer.

Cal breathes in through his nose, lets the air escape through his mouth. He reaches out in the Force until his mind brushes up against the two signatures next door, small but strong in their own right, sleeping peacefully in their beds. The house is quiet around them, and so is the Force, everything where it should be, the only thing out of place that feeling lingering persistently at the back of his mind, so steady and precious and warm.

"What is it?" Merrin asks, her voice muffled by how her face is buried into his shoulder. Cal takes another breath, feels the sensation at the back of his mind slowly escape past his lips with a long exhale.

Merrin bumps her head against his shoulder. "Is it the kids?" she asks, a little more alarmed.

Cal pulls her closer against his chest, places a kiss against her forehead. "No, it's nothing. They’re safe," he reassures her. “Go back to sleep.”

"You sure?" she asks again, already drifting back under. She might feel it too, he realizes. Her connection to the Force is weaker here, so far from Dathomir, but not gone.

"Yes, it's nothing, really," he says again, pulling her closer still. "It was just a dream," he adds as her breathing evens out and wonders for the rest of the night if that is true.

---

It doesn't fully leave him, that feeling, not even after his first cup of caf, or his morning katas out in their small backyard. It stays there at the back of his mind when he prepares lunch for the kids and when he goes into town to get the missing parts he needs to fix their speeder and when he watches the sun set past the horizon from his usual spot meditating out on the roof just before dinner.

It's as if something shifted in the Force. As if something had finally settled like a scab had been pulled off a wound after weeks and years of discomfort to reveal new skin.

"You lied to me, Cal Kestis," Merrin tells him that night when they are getting ready for bed, her words accompanied by a shove to his shoulder, not too gentle. "We don't do that. We do not lie to each other."

Cal doesn't have to ask what she's talking about. "I didn't lie," he says regardless of the fact that she's probably right. He had known, hadn't he, right from that second he woke up, that something monumental had happened last night. "I just didn't think--" he shrugs, unsure how to actually put it into words.

They stand there for a second, in silence, just breathing, evaluating. "I can feel it too, I think," Merrin says then. "It’s different than it felt at home. The Force. Lighter."

"Yes," Cal agrees. "Lighter."

"How did that happen?"

"I don't know."

"But you want to find out," Merrin says with a sigh and slips into bed. "I know you. All that Jedi stuff. You still want to find out."

Cal wants to reassure her he doesn’t, that he wants to let it rest like he promised himself and her all those years ago when Merrin first realized it wasn’t just the two of them they had to protect going forward.

“Don’t do something stupid,” she warns him as he climbs into bed beside her, his mind reaching out one last time to check on the signatures next door.

“I won’t,” he says but she is right of course. He does want to find out. He really does.

---

He doesn't actually go to find out. No matter how much he wants to.

They are safe here, is the thing, he and Merrin and the kids. Tucked away in the mid-rim where they are known as nothing but the family brave enough to settle down in the woods atop the hill, somehow miraculously left alone by the beasts that roam the woods. They get to go and visit the small town down in the valley and watch the old Twi'lek lady at the market fawn over their twin’s freckles. They get to plant crops that will take months to grow and sit out on the porch at sundown to watch the lights of the town slowly trickle off one by one.

They are simply Merrin and Cal, parents to Zeldin and Trilla — not a Jedi and a Nightsister, not parents to force-sensitive twins, not things to be hunted — just honest people, working towards a happy, quiet life, like everyone else.

And that's too important to let go, it’s as simple as that.

---

He dreams of him for the first time when the leaves start to fall, autumn sprinkling the pathway to their house in a million shades of brown and red.

He dreams of a man dressed in black, imposing and all-encompassing like he's only ever met one other being, yet so bright it's nearly blinding, warmth settling into his bones, even as he dreams. He dreams about twin suns when the snow begins to fall in winter and about the ruins of the Jedi temple on Coruscant when the grass begins to sprout again in spring.

That warmth is always there now, like a pull towards the light. Like the memory of waking up to the sound of his Master’s voice, and the feeling of his bare feet skitting over the tiles of the temple’s halls. Like a call home.

He doesn’t tell Merrin but he suspects she knows all the same.

---

Cere finds them when the heat of summer becomes too oppressive to keep the windows closed at night.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” she asks him and it’s not a question. He nods regardless, the pull in his bones just another part of his existence now, like the aftertaste of caf on his tongue.

“It’s calling us home,” Cere says, hope in her eyes. “We need to go home.”

“I’m already home,” Cal tells her and leaves her out on the porch.

Still, he reaches out that night, as he dreams, nearly involuntary towards that light, feels himself brush up against it, stretched out across the universe just to catch a glimpse. He catches a laugh and words spoken in a language he's never heard, and then just beside that light a blank space in the Force, cool and calm like a harbor in a storm. Safe like he hasn’t felt since he was a child.

“I need to find him,” he tells Merrin the next morning, the pull transformed into an ache, a deep longing for a part of himself he’s long forgotten. I need to go home, he doesn’t say.

“Always with your Jedi stuff,” she scolds, but she kisses his forehead and sends him on his way with a promise to return to them, and the lingering sensation of her protection ritual still wrapped around his chest.

---

He knows the coordinates as soon as joins Cere on the Mantis. Yavin 4.

He’s never been to Yavin but it feels familiar to him still — the smell of the forest rising around him and the grass and moss scrunching under his boots — as they step out of the ship to be greeted by what feels more like a buzzing city than old decrepit ruins. There is movement everywhere, from the gaggle of kids running past them without fear or a care in the world to the people, decked out in colorful armor, unloading crates from landing ships.

“Mandalorians,” Cal realizes with some sort of childlike awe.

“Got a problem with that, aruetii?”

Cal turns to find a burly man in full dark-blue armor standing beside their ramp, arms folded across his chest. He looks like he could probably crush him with one hand, yet there is nothing in the Force that makes him feel alarmed about his presence.

“Uhm, no. Just--” Cal shrugs, a little lost. “I didn’t think I’d find any given what I was uh-- looking for.”

The Mandalorian tilts his head at him for a second, arms still crossed, and then something seems to click. “Ah! Not an aruetii,” he says with something Cal can only interpret as delight. “You’re one of them. You’re a Jetii.”

Something lurches in Cal’s chest, that pull in his bones so strong for just a second he worries he might fall to his knees. Jedi. He hasn’t heard that word spoken in such a long time, so casual, without any malice. Hasn’t thought of himself as one either. So casual. Without any malice.

“Yeah,” he says, voice halfway stuck in his throat. “Yeah, I think that’s me.”

“Come, come,” the Mandalorian says, already reaching out to grab him by the arm to haul him along past ships and buildings. “They’ve been coming from all over. I’m sure he knows you’re here. They must be waiting for you, little Jetii.”

“He?” Cal asks but it’s barely out of his mouth before the thick brush opens up to a makeshift training ground carved into the jungle behind the temple’s ruins, revealing a Mandalorian and a Jedi sparing amidst a fired-up group of onlookers.

The Jedi is clad in black, just like in Cal’s dreams, imposing and all-encompassing. He’s swinging a white lightsaber against the dark blade of his opponent but there is something off about the way they move, the Mandalorian meeting the Jedi’s swings not as if they were enemies but as if they are one, orbiting around each other. Twin suns, Cal remembers, bright against the emptiness of the universe. This up close it's nearly blinding.

He’s so distracted by their back and forth for a moment it only hits him as they drift apart to catch their breath, the fact that he knows some of the people gathered around them. He knows them from growing up at the temple, and from growing up at war, and one in particular from all the stories told about her, blue and white lekku recognizable even among the crowd. He knows all of them, in fact, even the ones he hasn’t met, through the Force that flows through them, uninhibited and free.

“Oh,” the Jedi clad in black says in front of Cal as if he just noticed him, the word in juxtaposition with how there isn’t a hint of surprise or confusion on his face as he clips his lightsaber to his belt to step closer. “There you are,” he says with a smile, eyes very blue against the afternoon sky. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Cal is clearly older than him, with his beard and greying temples, by more than a decade probably, but somehow at that moment, he feels like he’s a Padawan again, oblivious to the vastness of the universe and all it holds.

"Hi," Cal says mind going blank as the pull finally seems to bleed out of his bones to be replaced by nothing but that overwhelming feeling of warmth. "I'm Cal Kestis."

"Hello Cal Kestis," the man says and stretches out a gloved hand towards him. "My name is Luke. Welcome home."

[reticentshugyosha]

Remembering My Early Training

I feel really quite fortunate to have stumbled into classical martial arts when I was a kid. As opposed to the more generic and significantly less exciting forms of kick-punch arts out there, my experience of Ryukyu Kempo was infinitely more colorful and arguably deep, if not at times in unintended and unexpected ways.

The first several weeks of training in Ryukyu Kempo consisted of wearing normal clothes to a class of black (yes black) dogi clad students practicing an array of empty handed kata, alongside kobujutsu, and distinct grappling maneuvers called tuite. I, however (like most new students at the time) was slated to make my way to the edge of the training area to watch class, and more importantly, to make friends with “Mr. Suburito.”

A suburito is an extra large, weighted wooden training sword. Despite its already bulky nature, the more senior students of the school would bore out holes along the blade of the veritable branch and fill them with lead for extra difficulty. My adult-sized, but not otherwise modified “Mr. Suburito” was quite enough for me to handle in awkwardly learning how to carry and draw him, so as to perform a great many downward, centerline cuts subsequently. I mean wooden swords are cool and all, but it was admittedly a little curious way to begin training in what I expected to be generically open handed karate art. Fast forward 20+ years later and I’m still discovering the nuance of that particular exercise in reference to my open handed skill set (including both striking and grappling) and my practice of kobujutsu at large.

After a few weeks of learning to relate to Mr. Suburito, I was introduced to Naihanchi Shodan as my first kata (solo exercise), rather than a taikyoku or kihon (typically low block and middle punch) manner of pattern.

The instruction given for the seemingly arcane Naihanchi kata was that the interestingly venerated Master Choki Motobu famously noted it was the only thing needed to gain a complete knowledge of karate. Beyond that, according to the Guiding Principles of our school “in the past a single master studied a single Kata for more than ten years…” and that if we just wholeheartedly threw ourselves into the practice of the kata (which follows a single horizontal, line enbusen [floor pattern] that sees the student moving left and right in a side-oriented kiba dachi [horse stance], while performing 27 duplicated movements at the left, right and center of the body, including two seeming ritualized double handed “salutes”) we would be well on our way to becoming truly skilled and wise practitioners of the art.

All of these things about the Naihanchi Kata were of course true, and after quite literally hundreds of thousands of repetitions of that particular 27-movement form over the course of more than two decades, I still cannot pretend to fully grok the contents and blueprints contained within that one archetypal form. Nonetheless, the unspoken fact was too that Mr. Suburito and the arcane Naihanchi Kata (despite the realities of the respective, intentionally subtle and skillful physical conditioning technologies contained within them) were really about slowly introducing a potential new member of the dojo into the actual training methods of the style and school without revealing anything too obviously dangerous, should the new recruit to prove to not be of the “good moral character” demanded by the Dojo Kun. Should that be the case, and should such a recruit find themselves to have worn out their welcome, the public was nominally protected, and the secrets of the school were further safeguarded by those deemed trustworthy enough to receive them. To return again to an examination of the Guiding Principles “the eagle with the sharpest talons hides them.”

As you can imagine, the onboarding process was a little more lengthy than that at a typical karate school. I recall distinctly having to memorize and be able to recite on command the five statements of the Dojo Kun (school code) and the ten paragraphs comprising the Guiding Principles (about a typed page and a half combined) before being able to progress beyond Mr. Suburito’s lone company.

After Naihanchi Shodan was sufficiently committed to mental and physical memory, and an exercise or two beyond simple striking sets with Mr. Suburito, two more similarly single, horizontal line enbusen comprised Naihanchi Kata (Nidan and Sandan) would follow, before I (the student) would actually be introduced to anything clearly resembling combat in posture, gesture, or movement in the truly unique “Tomari” Seisan (which is in fact a rather intricate white crane form, as opposed to most other forms sharing its name). For me this took about a year (without receiving or testing for a single belt rank along the way; curiously even the black belts didn’t wear rank belts, only a unique form of pantaloons called nobakhama, with but a couple of students who had here-and-there tested for a colored belt donning one).

However, it’s notable that within three or so weeks I (who hadn’t been yet taught how to do a simple block or strike in the manner of the system) would suddenly find myself introduced to the chizikun bo, a type of paired koppo (6” sticks with leather finger loops drilled through their centers, used as weapons, which are placed over the middle fingers of both hands). As it turns out a 7th Dan Kyoshi (Master) of the art would be teaching a rare form for the weapon at an even rarer full weekend training camp alongside a river at a distant and rural campsite.

You see, Kyoshi was always on the verge or “retiring,” and taking his still undivulged body of genuinely unique knowledge with him. Kyoshi never could quite get a successful dojo up and running himself (in fact the dojo was quite transient and moved or closed at least once a year) but nonetheless he (due to a mixture of actual skill and cowboy charisma) kept a pretty dedicated band of students within his orbit.

Whenever Kyoshi was strapped for cash a special training called a “Spirit Class” (a four+ hour day of Mr. Suburito and Naihanchi-esque kiba dachi chudan tsuki [horse stance middle punches]) could be scheduled for a nominal fee, inclusive of a custom screen printed t-shirt. If the bank was really coming to task though, a new, and somehow legitimately rare kobujutsu kata could be transmitted, replete with a custom printed t-shirt (for one low price) over the course of a weekend, and all hands were to be on deck. At no extra cost came the knowledge that if you open the advanced chizi kata the wrong way it “looks like you guys are trying to tear your peckers off” (LMAO, seriously) and that if you want to shower at a rural campsite you should stop and get quarters first, and that when you stop and get quarters first you should make sure that the item you’re buying to break cash into change with costs an appropriate amount so as to retrieve quarters in change. Twelve and thirteen year olds have to learn this stuff sometime! 😉

At this point I feel it worthwhile to note that Kyoshi did eventually retire and move out of state and out of touch, with some yet untaught and authentically rare and valuable skills in tow. I still practice that kata, or what I think I was taught at the time, and I’ve met very few people that know the “advanced chizi kata.”

Picking back up in week five of my training (and far beyond) Naihanchi Nidan and Sandan were gradually learned, and suddenly I had been indoctrinated and inducted properly into the tradition. By then I practiced my kata and exercises single mindedly while lusting over a copy of the Grandmaster’s newly self-published textbook. The textbook was sold only by a single school in his association for what was then (and now, but then especially) a very steep price of $65 (and a far cry from the $15 cost of his senior student’s very useful introductory manual sold in the same venue).

Speaking of those students and that venue, it was around this time that I recall that I began to realize that our faction of the art was no longer in the good graces of the Grandmaster’s association, and that there existed some really bad juju between the two camps. But regardless, we were all agreed that we were far superior to, and would not associate ourselves with, the third group of people accused of having stolen some of the secrets of the Grandmaster’s art at a few generous public seminars.

But I digress. For us, our “classical” system (as opposed to “traditional,” or the even more anathema “modern” styles) of karate was supreme (and admittedly the older I get the more my bias does swing that way among Japanese and Okinawan striking arts). Labeled sell-outs like Gichen Funakoshi of Shotokan fame were but “shamisen players with silver tongues who only ever learned the outside of karate” (or so said that curious younger Master Motobu again…the older Master Motobu was quite more refined in manners and skill). In short, if you wanted to real deal, you had to come to us.

My early life experience in Ryukyu Kempo introduced me to some of the most wonderful and valued friends and mentors in my life who I have been blessed to have cherished relationships with for decades now. Too, it broke (early on, in life and in training) many of my romantic conceptions of humanity, while also providing me an all but stereotypicalized idyllic training milieu. I really couldn’t have had it better anywhere else.

~Sunyananda

[sparrowwritesforop]

It´s never too late. Or is it?

This is a request from @pinkhatlizzy​

Katakuri forgetting his girlfriends birthday

At first it was just a small tug inside of him. The feeling that he forgot something. Katakuri shook it off, must be a mistake, besides there are other things he has to concentrate on. The gentle giant was currently on a mission, following his mothers orders. It´s been over 2 weeks since he left his home island, it was supposed to be a 3-day-trip , but there were complications along the way. Katakuri sat on top of a big rock to rest his feet, munching on a few donuts he got from a small store on the foreign Island. They were the same kind, his girlfriend always makes for him. The man got nostalgic, he couldn´t wait for this damn mission to finally end. There was nothing the sweet commander wanted more than to finally return to his home, to his family, his duty and most importantly his woman. The feeling returned. Did he forget about something? What could it be? Did he forgot to kiss you goodbye? No, he could remember kissing you quite heatedly before departing. Actually there was a whole lot more going on between of you besides kissing. He hid his small blush underneath his scarf.

Shaking his head slightly the tall man rose to his feet and walked back to his crew, watching all of them gathering all of their stuff, loading it into the huge ship.

Finally...time to head home.

It just took them a few days, but it felt like weeks passed till he finally spotted the silhouette of Totto-Island. His eyes searched through the crowd that came to greet them, but she was nowhere to be found. Didn´t she hear of their arrival? It was the first time that she didn´t wait in the harbour to greet him. Katakuri grew concerned....the weird feeling of having missed something grew..were you angry with him? What did he do? He made his way to Big Moms palace to report to his mother, but he couldn´t wait to look for her. After Mom was satisfied with the information he gave her, the sweet commander walked towards the cottage he and his girlfriend were living in (both of them preferred have their privacy, the palace was filled with nosy people). The light burned and the fireplace was lit when he entered, but she was nowhere to be found.  A lonely baloon next to a small gift box caught his eye, curiously he read the little card next to it:  “Happy Birthday, my dear (name), I wish you a beautiful day and a lot of fun with your present” - Brulée

Damn it. Now he got it. How could he forget something important like that? He has been extremely occupied with his mission, too occupied to rember his favourite persons birthday. He heard a shuffle in the bedroom, panicking he left the cottage, rapidly walking towards the small town. He needed to find something for her, as fast as possible. Without a doubt she knew that he was back on Totto-Island. His glance fell on a beautiful decorated shop. I think i know what to do.

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

(Name) POV:

She looked out of the window. Where was he? He should be here by now... Should I look for him outside? She shook her head. There would be a good explanation for everything. Why he didn´t even bothered to send at least a small message on your birthday, why he hasn´t arrived yet...there would be a logical explanation for everything, it´s not like he stopped caring for her right?

After a while of pacing around the cottage, cleaning already clean surfaces and looking after the already finished donuts she made for Katakuris arrival, the door finally openend, revealing the sweet commander. “Hey”, she whispered, while slowly walking towards him. The tall man replied, but his answer got muffled by his scarf. The smaller woman smiled shyly before reaching up- standing on her tiptoes- and pulling off his scarf. She laid the heavy piece of fabric on the large loveseat next to her. “Kata-kun...what took you so long” He scrached his head embarrassed “The Mission was harder than we initially thought,but “, he took her smaller hands into his, “...this is not what I want to talk to you about right now” His small smile made her feel a lot more relaxed. Moving her arms around his neck she smiled “And what do you want to talk about then?” Grinning he led her to the door and outside their cottage, shielding her eyes, he led her towards their small backyard. “Happy late Birthday”, his rough voice made the small woman shudder slightly, while taking in the sight in front of her.

The light Pavilion was decorated with fairy lights and white roses, a elegant decked table was standing in the center of it, the metal candlebra lit up the whole scenery, setting a romantic mood.  “But...Kata...how? When did you---?” He interrupted you with a gentle kiss, the kind that made you forget what the hell you wanted to say. His huge hands moved to your face, gently stroking your cheekbones. His fingertips were calloused, due to his occupation as a sweet commander. One of these rough hands that usually fought and ended peoples lifes, now moved to the back of her neck to prevent her from straining her head to much while kissing. They silently looked at eachother after they parted. The tall man kneeled down in front of her, the womans heart speed up...Was he going to...? “(Name), I love you. Would you.”, he struggeled, but the woman knew what he wanted to say. There were no words needed. “Kata...of course..Yes” The young couple set a new milestone that day, making way for a lot more to come. What exactly? Nobody can say that, but it definetely is a happy end.

[mysticdragon3md3]

Reacting to last few episodes of Nippu Sentai Hurricanger.

4:07 PM 8/1/2020 Nippu Sentai Hurricanger ep49; last scenes.

Why is this tragic music playing during Shurikenger's battle scene?  

Oh no...I just remembered that Super Sentai Hurricanger is a "ninja story".  We know what's the most common trope in a story about ninja...  Ninja sacrificing themselves.  ;~~;   . . . 4:13 PM 8/1/2020 ep50

Wait.  Is Gozen dead too?  Why did she appear in that flash of remembering Shurikenger being dead?  Is that why Shurikenger sacrificed himself?  Gozen was already dead?  

I think I remember these antagonist ninja girls from Gokaiger.  Ever since I started catching Hurricanger on Tokushoutsu, I've been wondering how these 2 kunoichi end up either surviving or defecting away from the villains' side.  

And of course the villain in a ninja story is the one who betrays their master.  Sandaaru.

Wait.  Why did Ikkou and Isshu's mecha blow up?  Did they do that cliche where you stab through yourself to get the enemy?  Haven't seen that since Jin.  I guess we gotta have more ninja sacrificing themselves before the series ends.  ~.~;  I want to go on about how "cliche" it is, but only to blunt the blow of the tragedy.  Because honestly, these tropes really do hit me in the feels!  ;o;!!!  

Oboro and the Headmaster god killed to?!????  Jeeze, how much tragedy does this story need?!?  ;O;!!!  ...Oh, yeah, I forgot:  This is a "ninja story".  Tragedy and everyone dying is kind of the prerogative.  

Wait.  Why aren't they getting into their mecha to fight?  Oh yeah.  First gotta have the unmasked character introduction kata/mie pose sequence at the start of the series' last battle.  I loved that in Gokaiger!  (I'm going to refer to Gokaiger a lot.  It's the only Super Sentai series I've finished.  I barely started with Shinkenger before my source for episodes dried up.)   . . . 4:30 PM 8/1/2020 ep51 "Final Scroll: Wind, Water, Earth".  

Oh, yeah.  Even though the lead Sentai is red like fire, there is no Fire in the Asian fundamental elements set---noWaitaminute!  Yes thre is!  Wind is the one that's missing!  If anything, Wind is considered Ki.  If Fire is there then why isn't the red Sentai representative of Fire?  Is this a ninja thing?  Ninja and the wind?  Probably.  lol  

Tau Zant is back?!  O.o?!  Well, I guess building him up as the final boss, all season, and not giving him the final battle would've been disappointing.

Oh, wait.  He's a conglomeration of all the villain's evil wills?  I thought that trope was only for yokai stories...  But I guess ninja stories do use a lot of magic and blur the line with the yokai genre.  

I like that they won the mecha battle by pretending to be beaten.  They used both the tropes of "an enemy is the most dangerous when about to be killed with a final blow" and "a ninja's primary weapon is deception", to get to Tau Zant's forehead weak spot.  And I also like the trope of "the villain makes an obvious fatal flaw" during battle tactics, rather than just the plot.  I know all these tropes are cliche in Japan, but I re~ally like them~!  ;u;!  It's so weird that at the hint of a cliche trope from American/Hollywood media, I get kind of bored, but I love all these Japanese pop culture tropes from anime, manga, and tokusatsu.  ^.^;  But I guess some things just speak to you, and some things don't.  lol  

The villains have a combined attack "canon" now?  lol  "Falling back from the exploooooooooooooosions!"  LOL    

WAit.  Ikkou and Isshu are still alive?  Well, it is nice to soften the blow of death for a kid's show.  ^.^  And more importantly, they get to fight in the final final battle.  If a series finale battle lacked in fanservice, like the fanserive of seeing all the main characters fighting together, then I'd be disappointed.  

Now that they're doing their poses with minimal costuming, I can see more clearing that they're doing actual kabuki mie poses.  ^o^  I love it!  ^o^  

Of course, Oboro and her dad turn out to still be alive.  LOL  I'm sorry, but I feel RELIEVED!  ;u;!!!!!!  All those tragic deaths, from the previous episodes, all at once, was too much.  ;o;!  I mean, it was really effective for The Feels at the time, but damnit, I watch fun kid shows to get away from my anxiety/depression!  Later, some jerk always comes out of the fandom woodwork to complain about "undoing character deaths is cheap" or "it cheapens the story".  Blahblahblah.  I'm sorry, but if you can't retain the lessons/emotions/revealations you learned when you *thought* tragedy happened, unless the tragedy stays, then I've got to question your ability to learn from events and not take stuff for granted!  All these crybaby fanboys complaining about the effects of a death not staying unless the death stays...I don't think they even got the important effects of a death.  I don't think they really learned what's important.  When a character dies, it's supposed to bring to mind all regrets left unresolved.  And then, more importantly, the surviving character(s) is supposed to resolve to change themselves to not make those same mistakes.  Not the mistake that specifically got the other character killed in their death scene, but the mistakes of all those everyday things that were left unresolved, out of an assumption that there would always be more time with that killed character.  I personally think that striving everyday to guard against making those same mistakes is a whole other, brand new battle, that needs to be taken on everyday.  To me, that's a whole new world of tension and drama that doesn't get erased when the "killed" character returns from the dead.  When the "killed" character gets resurrected, that's the START of a brand new battle, a battle that the surviving character has already proven to have LOST BEFORE.  That's why it became a regret---Though a regret unnoticed until the "killed" character died.  The "killed" character's resurrection inherently has drama because the surviving character might fail again, might prove that they either learned nothing or more tragically, are unable to overcome their everyday flaws, to avoid repeating that same regret.  That's a whole lot more tragic to me than a character staying dead.  (When [spoiler] returned from the dead at the end of Kamen Rider W, I ranted so much against those fanboys complaining that his resurrection "ruined" everything.  Urrrrgh!!!  https://mysticdragon3md3.tumblr.com/post/111356254057/spoilertastic-rant-warning-for-kamen-rider-w)  

But yeah, Gozen and Shurikenger remaining dead works.  I didn't watch many episodes of this season, but there was a lot less connection between the audience and those 2, compared to with the other Hurricanger.  

Is that a persimmon?  He better be eating a persimmon!  ^O^  Can't have a ninja story without eating persimmon!  LOL  

Wait.  Did PlutoTV just cut off the last scene of the last episode?!?!?!  Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Oh, good.  Tokushoutsu came back.  I wonder what all that back to back loading was all about?  

I just realized "Ikkou" and "Isshu"...  Doesn't that mean "Let's go together"?  ;U;!  

Aaaaahhhh!  Another trope I love!  Catch something from the master to complete your training!  ^o^  

Are they seriously intercutting between this graduation fight and their future careers?  lol  I guess it makes more sense

Big Shurikenger cameo at the end.  lol  Nice to get all the actors together.  I did like that joke about never really know what Shurikenger's real face was.  

Ah~  I didn't watch the full season, but Super Sentai finale episodes are always satisfying.  ;u;   . . . 5:02 PM 8/1/2020 I guess PlutoTV/Tokushoutsu is starting again with episode 1.  

It was a persimmon in the final episode!  ^o^

Wait.  So the only reason this trio became Hurricanger was because they were the slackers playing hookie while everyone else was attacked?!  LOL  I love that trope.  lol  

But wait...  So did all the other students DIE??????????????  ;O;!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Aaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!  O~O!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  

Omg.  They just rushed into battle, all at the same time, with no cover, and all obvious moves...  They really are idiots.  lol  I love them.  ;u;  Well, I love knowing how much they're going to grow from this low level. . . . 5:28 PM 8/1/2020 So I went on YouTube to try to find Power Rangers Ninja Storm episode 1, just to compare how they handled their character introductions.  And OMG.  I'm sorry, I hate them.  ~_____~;;;;;;;;;;;;  Everyone is snarky, disrespectful in ways that imply a lack of common compassion, and they're too much dialogue like "dude, I don't get this because I'm totally stupid".  Uuuuuuuuuggh~  ~o~;;;;;;;;;;;;;;  See, this is what I mean by how astonished I am that get sick of American fiction tropes so easily, but inexplicably just eat up those J-pop culture tropes.  ~_~;   . . . 5:31 PM 8/1/2020 Hurricanger ep2

Oh, these are the jobs that tied into the final episode's montage.  I like the lesson about not forgetting the "important Fight in your heart" even while you're doing everyday mundane life.  

Sorry, I'm not paying attention, but I've got stuff to do.  ^^;  Well, looks like Tokushoutsu is ending their Hurricanger marathon block, so I'm going to switch to some studying concentration ASMR.  

Wait.  Gotta listen to Kamen Rider Ichigo's opening theme!  ^O^!!!  "Rider jump!  Rider kick!  Kamen Rider, Kamen Rider!  Rider!  Rider!"  ^U^!!!  

[frumfrumfroo]

My imagination usually gets captured by concepts first: a magic system, a setting quirk, a plot premise. All my ideas start out with "What if X?" and character development is, well not an afterthought, but it comes after and out of that other stuff. I am very much a plotter not a pantser so I usually don't even know who my characters really are until the plot has taken shape to reveal them. Is there a way to make this work or should I unlearn all of this and start from scratch?

There’s no wrong way to get inspired! Whatever grabs your imagination and gets you motivated to start somewhere is what it is, man, I wouldn’t say you can control that. If your process works well for you and at the end of the day you’ve written a good story, then it doesn’t need to change. What I’m getting at saying ‘it needs to be a story before it’s anything else’ isn’t about literal chronology of invention, I mean the story has to be the most important thing. ‘Before’ as in precedence. And a story isn’t a plot, it’s the idea(s) or feeling you are trying to communicate or express.

If you plot everything out before writing, you probably have the self-discipline to keep the story ‘first’ regardless of how you arrived at the finished product. Meaning, you may know all about how windmills are designed and built by magical sapient moles in your universe, but you’re only going to tell the reader about those moles if it actually adds to the story and not just to show off that you thought of this cool idea. Your worldbuilding can still be in service of the story becauseyou can still allow the story to drive any and all exposition. Middle Earth emerged from Tolkien’s recreational creation of languages, but LotR itself is a story first and the vast majority of the pure ‘worldbuilding’ he did is not in the novel at all. The fact that he did all that background isn’t what makes the world compelling and convincing, he just did that for himself because he enjoyed it.

SW still feels like a living, breathing world in spite of the fact we’re told almost nothing about how any of it works and Lucas clearly hadn’t made many firm decisions about what the background was- because it isn’t thinking of everything and making up a million details that makes a fictional world feel real. The characters authentically inhabit this universe, they take it for granted, and the audience will accept their reality very easily as long as the characters themselves remain convincing. Does some of this stuff make logical sense if you start to question it? No, sure doesn’t. Tonnes of it will immediately fall apart if you pull the thread. The treatment and nature of droids would be a gigantic problem if this were a science fiction story, but because SW narrative concerns are completely different it doesn’t matter. Vast majority of viewers will never question it because the universe makes emotional sense and this is a story about individual emotional journeys. This is why it’s such a huge disconnect to go from the vague emotional mysticism of the films to something like the old EU and its lightsabre katas. The GFFA is (or at least the OT version was) small in spite of feeling big because of its character focus. It doesn’t thrive on minutiae or ‘realism’ and trying to explain it or rationalise it too much actually makes it less believable.

Plot-driven narrative really requires more planning and a backward-construction kind of approach from plot to character, because otherwise your characterisation will suffer. If you already have fully formed characters, they need to drive development and plot needs to be flexible or you’ll almost certainly end up sacrificing their motivation and audience empathy with their arc to keep the plot on the rails.

[nyanzaya]

@aquaaes inquired: -crashes into ur inbox for that url shit cause i need that validation-

Send Me A URL and I’ll Respond With My Opinions… Im a week late or something bro - Still accepting

Roleplaying/Writing

My favorite muse(s) of theirs and why: OH GOSH BRO. LISTEN. I don’t interact with like, a lot of your boys and I feel the bad but I really like Haru because uh, he’s your baby and you write him so well and I also like Makoto even though I like, forgot to reply to that starter... I ADORE IKUYA? HE’S ADORABLE? AND I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW HE ISN’T DONE WITH EVERYONE’S BS. SAME WITH THAT ONE GUY YOU HAVE AND THAT OLD MAN GUY WHO I SAID HIS VINE IS ’YOU CANT KILL ME IM A BAD BITCH” LIKE WHY ARE THEY SO FUNNY TO ME I DON’T UNDERSTAND IT. I love love LOVE your Izaya like, I cry at night and work when I think about him and then I think about IzaIza and don’t...don’t ask me if I’m okay. Because I’m not. I’m not okay. My favorite interaction/thread of theirs: Bro... the interactions between Yukine and that one Izaya? It’s so amusing. Then literally anything with the otp3 you have I just-- can’t recall their blog names atm but it’s with Haru and Rin and you use Ikuya. Can’t even LIE anything with the old man guy and that one guy who was like ‘if you kiss more than 6 times you’s not friend an’more’ LOL LIKE PLEASE. For us like, I gotta say the Iza/Izaya interactions idk they are like our oldest ship, I think they are like 4 or 5 years old which is, uhm, wild? It feels like....they hadn’t actually gotten to do much together but that’s because Izaya just “Bye bitch” a lot and other things. Even though I also really liked the stuff we had with Haru/Iza too, it as pure. My thoughts on their unique characterization/interpretation of their muse(s): I’ll start with Haru because, what the fuck. What the FUCK BRO. I never, ever in my entire life watched Free! Never have, not sure if I will but literally you make me love Haru and I don’t even know his whole like, story bro. How you do that? Like; wtf. You got me to love a character I thought I’d never really care about because the way you write him is so? fucking? impressive? BELIEVE ME. I always thought Haru was just a stoic guy that every anime needs because ‘oh we need a silent type’ but bro... You write him to be so much more. He is still quiet/silent hell yeah but, holy shit. You actually make it fucking interesting? LIKE? EXCUSE ME? Your use of body language and soft sounds is amazing! I honestly really appreciate it a lot, considering the fact my muses (mostly Iza) rely on reading body language quite a bit to understand another person. You just know how to write it so naturally and beautifully into a character like Haru who doesn’t use much words. Then fucking Izaya. Holy fuck. I absolutely ADORE your Izaya so much because it FEELS like it’s Izaya? Like, listen. He probably is very different from how he was years ago but he still has the soul and heart of a true bastard sad man who loves humanity. He’s so fun to write with and I always get so happy to write with him like; it’s a god damn privilege to me to get to write with him? Like I never thought I’d ever get to write with him because ya know, I was a personal blog before I actually started Rping and lmfao our meeting was so funny. You spam liked my blog because it was literally just full of drrr and quotes and I was like “This has to be a sign. they gotta like me because they followed me right have WHAT DOES THIS MAKE US?” And I did it back I think. LMFAO IT WAS SO DUMB BUT THAT’S HOW WE GOT TO TALKING. Listen kids, if you want someone’s attention literally spam like about 40 posts and follow them right after. It’ll definitely send the signal that you want to talk to them.  My thoughts on their writing style as a whole: UGH PLEASE YOU BLESS ME AND EVERYONE WHO READS It. YOU MIGHT NOT THINK ITS GOOD BUT IT IS OKAY? ITS GREAT! YOU LITERALLY HAVE A GREAT WAY WITH WORDS BRO Situation(s)/Plot(s) I’d love to see their muse(s) in: Bro... I don’t even know... but maybe an AU Transitior, like you remember that game right? LOL Maybe Haru as Red? And Rin as the sword? or the other way around?? :eyes:  Someone else I love seeing them interact with: oh god I can’t even decide because all of them make me just aaaaaa but prob anything with freestyleharu Anything else I want to say about their roleplaying: BRO. Your writing is inspirational, easy to follow and it’s fun to read. You are definitely doing something right and I’m just?? Proud of you :”> 

If We Know Each Other

What I Think Are Their Best Qualities: fun to chat with? Crazy fun ideas. Communicative once comfortable. A meme lord.  What I Think Are Their Strengths: In terms of personality, I can’t even tell you because we are so ride or die I don’t even know. I just love how we can talk about anything and it’s not weird or awkward. In terms of Rp; being able to work with pretty much any idea. Good at winging threads, especially if it’s a first interaction. Super friendly! Unless you are their close friend then they mean, but in that good way. A Memorable OOC Interaction Of Ours:

This sums up our entire relationship 

Why Others Should RP With Them: If you want someone who would be as excited about a thread as you are, Vati is your boy. He has so many muses too from various fandoms so there’s so many things that could happen! All you have to do is just, know which muse you want to interact with and then jump in and Vati will literally return the favors right quick How Others Should Approach Them: Despacito memes in the DMs. That’s it. Or liking all their posts and then following them like they done to me then I guess that works too LOL be friendly with him and he’ll return it so fast it’s like you guys was friends from a past life. Other Roleplayers I’d Recommend To Them: Bro.... I don’t even know okay. I think you already follow everyone I rp with so I can’t recommend anymore LMFAO Anything else I want to say about them: I love you bitch, I ain’t never gonna stop loving you. Bitch. 

If We Have/Plan To Interact Together

A plot I’d like to write with them: Fuck plot lmfao. There isn’t really a plot I have in mind? I mean... I guess something with Iza’s v; grand finale verse but he does die in that one. I wouldn’t even know which muse would even deal like Izaya could but *laughtrack.wav* or maybe a plot with Iza and Haru but legit, no idea what plot. My brain keeps going back to Izabel LOL and that plot you kept sending me with the whole airplane crash and not revealing if Ringabel was on it or not. A muse I want to introduce to them: I think you already know all my muses? At least my active ones, like Zuo and our cursed content son Iza. There’s Aiko and Asher(zuo’s mom and then the kid he adopted) but i think you know them already. There’s also...Kata(Iza’s mom) but she’s like no where to be found lol. Iza’s kittens(Axel, Akira, Leon) But I don’t think any of your muses would want to deal with his kits LOL. Then there’s Mira who’s Iza in a future life and Vui who’s Iza’s pet cat. Course there’s Iza’s two life masters but i don’t really know about them xD A ship/broship I’d like to propose to them: I think Haru and Iza are kind of already a broship that could turn into something shippy probably and I think with Zuo and Gou they kind of are bros. Tbh I think either of my boys could be good or okay friends with any of your muses? Even the request ones but i don’t even know LOL Ship wise, like I guess Makoto and Iza would be cute AF tbh A thread with them I’m excited about: Our IzaIza one as always LOL then, because I remember you wrote me a thing with Makoto I have to respond to that one because I honestly just forgot-- I think that one would be cute even if Iza is hurt in that one.  Anything else I want to say: I’m really like, thankful for you because without you I wouldn’t be here writing Iza and Zuo. You don’t even know how much it means to me that you helped encourage the creation of this horrible dumb cat. I might of dragged you back to tumblr, but like I genuinely you’re having fun. We might not write much together and I understand the whole thing with muses needing to recharge or get in the mood so I can wait forever and wait my turn because I’d always be happy after month to get something from you. It just means more to me that you’re having fun because you kind of deserve to have fun anyway.

[violetsmoak]

No Safety or Surprise [Part I - Excerpt]

Summary: A haunting broadcast reveals the Joker’s final act and sets off a chain of events that will destroy the world. Terry finds himself collaborating once more with the estranged members of Bruce’s former team. As the end nears, however, he and the other Bats are faced with hard choices about survival—and forgiveness.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything to do with Batman. I don’t make any money off this. It’s just me playing in a sandbox. (And I’ll put a better disclaimer on this at some other point.)

Author’s Note: First fic in the Batman universe, yay! (Well, second, but the first one was high school ago and was a blatant self-insert lol). I’ve been toying with this idea for a while now. It’s taken some in-depth planning, but I finally have something to show for it. This is only one part of a very large first chapter, but I thought I’d throw it out there into cyberspace and see what people think. I’ll post it here in mini excerpts, but eventually I’ll put it on FF.Net and Ao3, once it’s all shiny and edited.

Spoilers: Everything in Batman Beyond until but not including the “Rewired” storyline or anything afterward. Also, references to events and characters present in the DC ‘verse up to the New 52 (after the “Robin Rises” story arc) but before Rebirth. (And JFC do I hate keeping all these timelines straight!)

Warnings: Leading up to canon-divergence; eventual main character deaths (except not really, because timey wimey stuff); a few minor original characters; multiple POVs

Timeline: Takes place after the events of 10 000 Clowns but before Terry McGinnis graduates high school.

Bruce is beginning to wonder if a Lazarus Pit might not have been a better idea than the liver transplant. Of the methods for artificially prolonging life, at least with the Pit, he would eventually start to feel like he was recovering.

After the madness subsided, at least.

On days like today—when it’s damp and chilly, and there’s nothing going on in Gotham to keep him glued to the computer screen in the Cave—it’s hard to remember the arguments he’s always made against using the restorative powers of a Lazarus Pit. He body protests with every movement as he eases it through several slowed kata variations. Part of his physical therapy, as suggested (ordered) by his doctors.

Since his procedure, he feels the exhaustion much more keenly. It’s a bone-deep fatigue that seeps into every muscle, emphasizing the way his bones creak and grind against each other, cartilage worn away from age and decades of abuse. It’s the way his energy levels drain so much faster no, to the extent that even his usual ability to will himself into action seems to wane every day.

Not that he really had a choice in the matter. He was in end stage liver failure, and the nearest Pit is in New Cuba. He’d just been lucky that there was a suitable donor in the hospital at the right time.

‘Luck’ is one word for it. ‘Cruel irony’ might be a better phrase.

Douglas Tan is one of the names he’s going to carry on his conscience for the rest of his life; or, at least on his liver.

Terry still makes jokes about Batman having a piece of a Joker inside him, but then Terry tends to use humor to cover up when he’s worried. Dick always did that, too; and Jason.

Bruce scowls, bothered by the direction of his thoughts, as well as the raggedness to his breath. He isn’t even moving very fast, but it’s taking him every bit of strength to keep at it.

Ace is curled up in his usual spot in the cave, watching Bruce with what seems to be narrowed eyes. As if to say, don’t overdo it or I will knock you over.

He knows the dog is smarter than most people.

Ace is one of the reasons the doctors were willing to leave him to pursue recovery on his own and not under some beady-eyed nurse in hospital. Money isn’t as much an incentive as it once was, with so many legal and health standards in the way; the older he gets, the less likely people are to trust his ability to make decisions, lawyers or not.

He tolerated a private nurse for about a day while having Terry make other arrangements and manufacturing a piece of paper saying Ace was a certified service dog. He’s not, but Bruce has no doubt the dog would activate the medical alert button at the computer if something were to happen. And Terry has an alarm set up, keyed into the surveillance and motion sensors in the Cave. If anything were to happen, he can be here faster than any ambulance.

Old age has fed into long-buried fears, and it gives him an embarrassing sense of relief knowing there’s someone to look in on him. It has always bothered him, being dependent—being weak.

Some days he’s more accepting of it; some days he wishes he had Kryptonian DNA.

Which is usually the point at which he forces himself to occupy his mind with other things, because envying Clark Kent can only lead down a dark, frustrating path of self-pity. One he’s determinedly avoided ever since meeting the other man.

After another fifteen minutes of forcing himself to think about nothing but the movement of his limbs, Bruce finally finishes his exercises. Sweat coats his back and his limbs ache with the same burn as if he just spent several hours grappling through the Gotham skyline. Even if it took less challenging movements to reach this point, that burn is comforting.

Familiar.

And that’s a word that’s been cropping up more in his thoughts lately. History tends to repeat, after all, but it’s still strange to experience. Terry’s been an excellent example of that.

Like Bruce, the McGinnis boy started out with nothing but a suit and an old man’s voice in his ear. Now, he’s got a network. Friends who he trusts and who will keep his secret. A steadily growing list of allies in the field.

The Police Commissioner. The Justice League.

And a Catwoman too, for Christ sakes.

He wonders what Selina would think about that.

Bruce just hopes the kid won’t make his mistakes. Forty years is a long time to rack up regrets.

At least Dick’s back in contact now.

Sort of.

He showed up the second night that Bruce was recovering from his procedure at the hospital; he’d managed to convince Terry to go out on patrol instead of wasting his time watching an old man sleep.

“Batman doesn’t get a day off.”

Bruce had dosed for a bit, but not deeply; it wasn’t difficult to discern that he wasn’t alone.  

One minute the room was empty and in the next, Bruce could feel that familiar presence—the one of a man who had carried the mantles of Robin, Nightwing and Batman—and somehow lived to tell the tale. Then his estranged son was stepping out of the shadows, glaring down at him, muscles in his jaw working and fists clenching and unclenching.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Bruce had croaked, wishing he had thought to ask for ice chips before the nurse left. “I’m too stubborn to die.”

The silence hanging afterward was filled with everything he couldn’t say yet. For once, Dick didn’t call him on it.

“You’re more stubborn than God,” his boy countered.

(He’ll always be a boy to Bruce, grey hair and eye-patch be damned.)

And yet, he sat, arms crossed and spine stiff for the rest of the night. Still angry, but there nonetheless. He stayed until morning rounds without saying anything, and then left.

They haven’t seen each other since, but sometimes Bruce can hear feedback on the comms when he’s directing Terry’s patrols. The tinny whisper of signals crossing from the bug he pretends he doesn’t know Dick planted on the underside of his medical ID tag.

It’s not much, but it’s something. The opening of the possibility that at some point, he’ll come around.

Barbara did, after all.

Mostly because of Terry, but afterward Bruce started making the effort. They can have conversations alone now that don’t end with her yelling at him (or punching him, on one or two memorable occasions). Bruce forgot how much he enjoyed her sense of humor and intelligence—how much he enjoyed their friendship—from before they slept together.

(That might be one of his life’s biggest shames. Oh, he has regrets associated with all of the family for one thing or another, but this is the one that still wakes him up at night feeling dirty.)

In a way, it’s easier with Tim, and that’s a bridge Bruce thought had been obliterated long ago.

Granted, he’s leaving Gotham again—the last incident with the Joker army rattled him enough that he put in for a transfer to the Chinese division of Wayne Enterprises—but he stuck around long enough to collaborate with Bruce on a subdermal antitoxin deployment implant against Joker venom.

(None of them want to be caught unawares again.)

It’s in the prototype phase, with only five of the devices in existence; he, Tim and Terry are testing them personally. It’s not exactly something the FDA is going to approve for human testing anytime soon, not with all the new legislation, but with the state of Gotham, it’s unwise to wait on it.

(He sent one to Barbara and one to Dick but doesn’t know if they’ve bothered to activate them. At least they haven’t sent them back.)

If the implant works, Bruce is seriously considering modifying the tech for the Wayne Enterprises medical division. There are a lot of illnesses and viruses out there which require regular dosages of medicine to keep them under control.

Maybe that’s the next project, after CAIN, he muses, grabbing his towel from where he draped it over one of the computer processors.

His global Clean Air Initiative Network is something he’d been working on before stepping back from the company. It was shelved almost immediately by Derek Powers when he took over, but since Bruce has been back, he’s been revisiting a lot of old projects.

Lucius’ boy did most of the technical work on it, and Foxtecha will have joint ownership of the patent when it’s ready for public consumption. Bruce would have asked Tim, but he knows how determined he is to get out of Gotham. He can read it in the tone of his emails, which have thankfully lost the stilted, formal business tone they’ve had since he returned to the company.

(Bruce mentioned paying a visit in the future, and Tim didn’t say no, so he counts that as a win.)

It’s a little disconcerting how the family is coming together again; disconcerting but welcome.

He’s received a vid call last week from Cassandra expressing concern over his surgery, and then a short, gruff email from Duke all-but ordering him to get better. There’s even a letter from Stephanie—or Eurus, as she goes by these days—smelling of dust and desert sun and incense found only in Nanda Parbat. Her messy, looping scrawl, echoed Dick’s sentiment about Bruce’s stubbornness and alluded to its genetic inheritability.

(That said more than if she had actually mentioned Damian outright.)

Bruce lost track of her not long after his son’s short and brutal stint under the cowl; it had surprised him to find out she ended up in Tibet.

It also relieved him. Because no matter how dark a path his son wandered, there would be someone to challenge him. To not obey without question. To give him a link to the life he once had, to being human and alive.

(Bruce very carefully doesn’t think about Jason—doesn’t wonder if things had been different, if he wouldn’t have reached out as well. Even after so many years, that wound is still raw.)

The whole thing is a stark difference from the last few times he ended up in the hospital, including when he was dosed on Joker venom several months ago. He didn’t hear anything from them at that point, which makes him think someone really thought he was dying this time and reached out.

Barbara, maybe. Or Dick. However much tension there is between himself and Bruce, he does keep in touch with the others.

Hell, it might even have been Terry. The kid doesn’t know the rest of them personally, but he’s gotten adept at navigating the computer in the cave. And he’s always been curious about his predecessors.

Bruce’s first family.

Or maybe just the first phase of the family.

Bruce shies away from that secret bit of knowledge he has about Terry, and his brother Matt. What he discovered the first time the kid returned to the Cave with bloody gashes that needed stitching up. The files and medical information buried beneath every firewall he could fashion, so the boy never stumbles upon it accidentally.

The most he’s allowed himself to acknowledge it is an amendment in his will setting aside trust funds for both boys.

As if triggered by his thoughts, the screen of the Bat-Computer flickers to life. He rolls his shoulders, expecting an alert on some heist or robbery going on in the city; another case to add to the docket for Terry to investigate after school (depending on the severity).

Bruce doesn’t expect the Cave to suddenly fill with a jaunty, haunting carnival tune that makes his entire body seize in recognition. And yet, he already knows what’s coming even before the words HA HA HA coalesce upon the screen.  

TBC

NEXT

[dutifulhope]

  A very interesting subject to discuss is the dub’s adaption changing her title from SHSL Kendoka (practitioner of kendo) to Ultimate Swordswoman. Honestly, I truly feel Peko’s reveal would have had an even more powerful impact if we weren’t already practically given a spoiler with the needless title change! 

  Like, just because someone practices kendo doesn’t mean they’ll know how to use an ACTUAL sword. The closest most kendoka will get, if they don’t have an interest in using actual swords, would be with a bokken. Unlike a shinai it’s made from wood, not bamboo, and is meant to be more true to a sword’s actual weight and there’s different kinds to reflect different swords. 

  Shinais are MADE to be harmless and the most you’d ever get is a bruise but Peko’s is different because she’s hiding a goddamn katana in it while bokken are typically never used in any sort of regular sparring because of how dangerous it is except if you’re Peko and an equally extra character (you could basically club someone to death with it) and is pretty much only used for solo cutting exercises (there’s even a special kind of bokken for this) or kata: choreographed scenes for solo performances or pairs. 

  I understand their fear was probably “nobody knows what the fuck kendo is” but it’s a discredit to the sport and its popularity across the word even if it’s not an Olympic sport. I GET IT, I GET IT... But I’m upset about it anyway.

  What all this rambling is boiling down to is how I view Peko’s talent: SHSL Swordswoman is her REAL talent with SHSL Kendoka being the cover, even if she’s good at that too. Kinda goes hand-in-hand but also not really? Like, all rectangles are squares but not all squares are rectangles. Yeah. Especially since kendo has some rules to it and stuff that differentiate from sword battles... and while she says she loves it but doesn’t actually have an actual ranking in the system.... but oh I’ll ramble forever if I get into it.

  This is known to high faculty staff members (like Chisa, though Peko doesn’t know this herself though after Chisa being Chisa she has her suspicions) only. Anyone else, they have to earn it. You won’t catch Peko with a sword easily is basically what I’m getting at, ha.

[cherryfinolahobbes]

Cherry wrinkled her nose at the idea of talking about her feelings anymore. She was a naturally a heart on her sleeve type of girl, but she wasn't interested in talking anymore. Besides, she really didn't know what all Happy knew. She knew Tony would give the other man all information he needed, but what if it wasn't all of it. What if she said or revealed something that changed things? She'd made that mistake before. People started treating her differently, started looking at her with pitiful eyes and then they started talking to her less because they didn't know what to say and then just stopped talking to her. She didn't want that.

"It...would be nice to feel like I had a little control," She admitted. Cherry gave Happy a little smirk, trying to ignore the idea of the big man not being around someday should something happen, "but we know that you'd never let me get a punch in if some creepazoid was around,"

The idea was thrilling, she had to admit. Martial arts seemed so complicated and intimidating with the katas and rules and rankings. She didn't know much about boxing, but in her mind it seemed so much more straight forward. It was just punching, right?

Cherry took the offered door, sitting herself down in the passenger's seat. She smoothed her skirt over her lap and buckled herself in as she wait for Happy to get seated. She looked over at the big man curiously. If she was honest, she'd known Happy or at least been around him as long as she'd known Tony, but she didn't know much about him personally. "Where did learn?" She asked. "Boxing and fighting and stuff?"

cherryfinolahobbes​: 

Cherry’s breathing evened out as Happy gave her back a little rub. She started to come more back to herself and she let go of his shoulders, reaching up to rub the remaining tears from her eyes. She always appreciated the space Happy gave her on days like these. No prying or over mothering (although he could be quite good at that too), he typically left her to her thoughts with the radio playing. That’s why he’s next suggestion surprised her.

“Boxing?” Tony had tried to get her to learn some martial arts, but Cherry was too timid to really spar. She did enjoy Tai Chi from time to time. Boxing though…could she do that? “Are you serious?”

“‘Course I’m serious.” Happy gave her a nod and glanced to the building, “I mean, I’m all for talking your feelings out if that’s working for you, but… Well, even if I am around, sometimes it helps just to feel like you can protect yourself, too. Don’t you think?”

Happy couldn’t be with her every moment of the day. Not to say his team weren’t amazing guys;, hell a few were retired ARMY guys, and Tony made sure they all respected Happy and didn’t have any issue answering to him. But he knew Cherry felt more comfortable with him, around him or Tony or Pepper and Rhodey. Probably because Tony had hired her and they were around the most. 

Happy gave a shrug and a small smile, moving away and opening the back passenger door for her, “Could be fun.”

[thaibuddhistamulet]

The Takrut bailan Pitsamorn of Luang Por Gaew (2393 – 2462 BE) is an amulet that is over a century old and is considered an eminent member of the ‘Gao Yang Tee Kuan Mee Dtid Gaay’ (Nine Sacred amulets which one should wear for perfect blessings), of olden days, which was a famous proverbial saying of devotees of amulets in Thailand in olden times.

This exhibit below, is a perfect example of the classic and most commonly accepted Takrut Bailan Pitsamorn of Luang Por gaew being round like a wheel with a hole in the middle and wrapped with Sinjana cords, red ancient Chinese lacquer (Rak Chart), and gold leaf.

This exhibit can be considered ‘Tae Doo Ngaay’ (very easy to see its authenticity and true age), from the darkened hardened lacquer and depth of immersion of the gold leaf. The appearance of the amulet possesses exactly the right signs of natural ageing to authenticate its age as being from the Era of Luang Por Gaew, and its materials and style of making is inimitably supportive of this, which gives a 100% certainty of authenticity for this amulet.

  The amulet should be worn on a neck-chain or at the lowest point above the waist, as it contains Bailan parchment scrolls with Buddhist Prayers, and should not be worn below the waist. The Takrut Bailan Pitsamorn of Luang Por Gaew is considered one of the top Nine amulets of all time of the ‘Krueang Rang’ Talismanic Charm category of Thai Amulets, famed for its Kong Grapan Chadtri Klaew Klaad and Metta Maha Niyom powers.

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  Luang Por Gaew made his Takrut Bailan from Bailan that came from the village of Bang Pern, whose name means ‘Block Guns’ and is part of how he began the empowerment of Maha Ud and Kong Grapan Chadtri within the parchment scrolls before inscription. When his devotees who he would ask to go toe bang Pern to cut Bailan parchment for him to inscribe, they would ask ‘why do we have to travel so far to get Bailan parchment when it grows nearby?’. Luang Por Gaew would always say ‘if you want the best of the best, sometimes you have to travel far and wide to find it, and if you dont go to get it, then you wont ever have the good stuff’

  Luang Por Gaew would inscribe the Bailan leaves with the Khom letter ‘MI’ and encircle it with inscriptions of the Kata Hua Jai Suea Saming Were Tiger Invocation (Phū Pi Phū Pa) in Sacred Khom Agkhara Characters. The Hua Jai Suea saming is also known as the Hua Jai See Sahaay (four friends heart Mantra).

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  The strange thing is, that as Luang Por Gaew was gathering the materials in his Kuti to inscribe the Takrut, the birds in the forest were making lots of noise chirping and calling out. But as soon as Luang Por Gaew began his inscriptions, they all fell silent. As he finished the last one, and closed the ceremony, the birds of the forest all began to resound with loud calls and birdsong again immediately!!!

  Luang Por Gaew delcared this to be a confirmation and sign that the spell within the Takrut possessed Maha Ud power, to silence (guns and enemies). The Takrut Bailan Pitsamorn is especially famopus for this Kong Grapan Chadtri power, but in addition is also highly regarded for Klaew Klaad and Maha Lap Serm Duang Metta Maha Niyom mercy Charm.

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  This revealed that Luang Por gaew knew that the Bailan of Bang Pern had special powers which is not found in all Bailan fields, and that the village of Bang Pern did not get its name for no reason, for the earth powers within this municipality defeated the powers of gunpowder, through a high presence of gunstopper minerals in the earth.

Below: Luang Por Gaew of Wat Puang Malai

Luang Por Gaew Wat Puang Malai

  The Takrut Bailan Pitsamorn is one of the most ancient forms of Takrut, and is considered very powerful protection against all forms of danger, including physical harm against sharp objects that pierce the skin (Kong Grapan Chadtri), Anti Ballistic Weaponry (Maha Ud), evade accidents (Klaew Klaad), against poisonous wild animals (Pongan Sadtw Raay), Anti Black Magick (Gae Aathan) and Ghosts and Demons (Gan Phuudt Phii Pisaj).

Kata Maha Ud

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Luang Por Gaew Takrut Pitsamorn Bailan Parchment Scroll Wat Puang Malai The Takrut bailan Pitsamorn of Luang Por Gaew (2393 - 2462 BE) is an amulet that is over a century old and is considered an eminent member of the '

[ramblesandreviews]

117. Lena Luthor x fem!kryptonian!reader

Request: Can you do a lena luthor x fem reader where you’ve been best friends since you were kids and you reveal that you’re Kryptonian when you save her life leading her to confess her feelings for when you think she hates you because she knows that you’re an alien please

Honestly being best friends with anybody with the last name Luthor was probably a bad idea. You couldn’t help it she had saved yoh even if she didn’t realize it. When you crash landed onto the earth you where beyond freaked out. Everything was just so loud and nothing made sense, it didn’t help you didn’t have anyone to take care of you. It also didn’t help that you had the body of a twelve year old and the hunger if three grown men. The orphanage lady was beyond baffled.

That’s where you met Lena. She had already been adopted by the Luthor’s but every once and a while she’d come visit the orphanage she was brought to. You didn’t understand why she came all the other kids claimed that being adopted by a family was amazing. They also pointed out that the family she had been sent to where rich and used a hundred dollar bill as a tissue.

Most kids in the orphanage ignored her because of this but Lena didn’t seem to mind. She only came to visit one of the people who worked at the orphanage. The first time you spoke to each other was when you had accidently broke your friend Tyra’s arm. You two had made a bet with each other and you had gotten so caught up in the game you forgot to control yourself.

Your twelve year old self sat in the faded green desk chair with a huff. Tyra had been your last shot at having a real friend, everyone else called you destructo girl and wanted nothing to do with you. That was when a green eyed girl walked in, her heart beat was slow and steady as you heard a content sigh escape her lips. Without really paying attention to you she plopped down in the seat across from you.

You blinked for a second nobody ever sat near you, and you didn’t recognize her. A grin settled onto your face, maybe she would even talk to you. You swallowed your nerves down and said, “Uh hi.” She didn’t respond but looked around the room as if you might be talking to someone else.

When she saw no one she turned to you and raised a hesitant eyebrow. “Me?” she asked messing with her dark hair. It was your turn to frown and you couldn’t help the sarcastic response that escaped your mouth.

“No,” you paused sarcastically, "I was talking to the empty chair next to you.“ the girl stiffened and you clamped your hand over your mouth, "Oh Rao I didn’t mean to say that…” You trailed off examining the girl’s look of confusion and annoyance.

You swallowed again and hoped you hadn’t offended her. “Can I try again?” you asked hesitantly you never could control your impulses. Your mother had called it an extraordinary gift, but your father had called it a defect. She nodded and you heard her heartbeat increase slightly. “Hi my name is (Y/n), what’s your name?” You asked nervously.

The girl frowned. “Not to be big of myself but do you not know?” You shook your head as the girl continued to give you a look of mistrust. Your gaze softened you recognized that look it was the same one you looked at in the mirror each morning when it was your turn to use the bathroom.

“Uh you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I’ll just uh sit here if you want someone to talk to…” You trailed off as the girl continued to study you. You smiled at her and then leaned back into the chair. You heard the top caregiver chewing a boy out in the room you had to go in and stiffened when you heard her stop. The door opened and the boy, named Zack, escaped rubbing his knuckles. He shot you a sneer and the girl across form you a condescending smile.

“Oh hey Luthor,” the boy spat as if t was something offensive, “I wouldn’t sit too close to destructo girl over here, she might break that pretty palace of yours.” He scoffed and the girl frowned then looked down at her lap.

You shot him a glare, “Shut up Zack or I’ll,” you thought for a moment, “Dislocate your shoulder, put it in place, and then dislocate it again.” Zack huffed and took a step forward when Mary the woman chewing him out stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. He froze and quickly left the room.

“Ah Lena I wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so,” she paused smiling at the girl across form you. You grinned, Lena it reminded you of the names on krypton, short and sweet. Mary shot you a shrewd look, “Ms. Clumsy I also was not expecting you hear after last time.”

You flinched and said too quickly, “That’s not my name.” Mary glared at you as Lena shot you a curious look.

“Well let’s not forget you decided not to give anyone that information,” she paused, “Ms. Clumsy.” You gulped and rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. “Hmm, well luck for you Lena’s here so I can’t punish you,” You pumped your fist, “yet.” Your arm deflated to your side. You where sent to your room and that was the last you saw of them the rest of the day.

The next time Lena showed up she talked to you and pretty soon it became a routine. She would talk about her adoptive family and all the things they would make her do. You would talk about the school you went to and the odd things you encountered. She would smile and ask you to continue talking about things even though they where as simple as birds. You became best friends, able to tell each other anything that was, except Krypton.

You both grew older and her Superman appeared along with the fiery hatred of her older brother. After finishing up school you followed Lena everywhere just to make sure she was safe. That also included the move to National City. You where hesitant at first considering the rise of Supergirl but you knew you could get her to back off if you flashed her your house crest.

And so you met Kara Danvers, who cornered you the first chance she got, and Clark Kent. You met the DEO and Kara’s sister who had interrogated you almost violently. That lead you to your current problem, an attack on L-Corp. Kata had gotten there just in time to stop Cyborg Superman and after the both of you sharing a look you grabbed Lena and bolted up the stairs.

It took almost all of your will power not to fly somewhere safe, but you knew it would be a bad idea and continued running. Lena gripped your arm making you stop so she could catch her breath. You fidgeted nervously and noticed the shoes she was wearing. “Seriously Lena? I told you to throw those heels out a month ago.” You complained.

She shot you an annoyed look, “And I told you to stop eating so much fast food and eat a vegetable.” You placed a hand over your heart and gave he a faux offended look. She nodded and crossed her arms across her chest, you felt your stomach flip and you swallowed nervously.

You heard a loud bang come from the bottom of the stairwell. Your face paled and you lifted Lena in your arms and took off her high heels. “Hey stop those are my favorite pair!” You set her back down and through the pairs at the men bellow. You got two in the four head but there was still a man running up the stairs.

“Come on!” Lena yelled and grabbed your arm entering the nearest floor room. When you entered there where still employees hiding under desks. "Hurry get into another room!“ She yelled the workers nodded and fled into the nearby bathroom. She quickly ran towards the nearby science equipment and started mixing some chemicals.    

"Now’s not the time to quench your thirst for knowledge.” You pointed out with a small glare. She gave you a pointed look and then went back to the beakers mixing and matching and doing all sorts of stuff that made your head hurt.

“Honestly, how long have you known me?” Lena scoffed with a playful smile. She was trying to make a trap for him, you realized with pride. You grinned and then a shiver went up your spine. You can hear it, you realized, the small ticks coming from his chest. 

“Lena get into the bathroom.” You stated unemotionally.

She shot you an offended look, “What do you mean go into the bathroom, all have you know I can take perfect care of mys-” You cut her off with a with an almost angry look on your face.

“He has a bomb Lena.” Her mouth closed and silence ensued. All you can hear where the small ticks two stories below, slowly making there way upward. Lena’s heartbeat spiked and your own clenched at the sound of thumps that made their way into your ears.

“You don’t know that.” Her voice was almost accusing, like she didn’t want to believe you. No not that, you realized looking at the vulnerable look on her face. Like she didn’t want to believe how you knew.

“I can hear it, now get the hell into the bathroom.” You said reluctantly and when Lena didn’t move  you went and lifted her. Her heartbeat spiked again but in a different way then before, you frowned. You entered the bathroom and placed her down making sure to tell everybody not to let her leave.

Lena hated you, you could feel it and the thought made your stomach churn uneasily. You sighed as long as you stopped this guy from killing her and everybody else you were okay with that. After you stepped out of the restroom you saw him he was pointing a gun at you.

“Uh hi.” You where distinctly aware of the way he gripped the handle tighter. You cleared your throat, “How about we put the gun down?” The man only cocked it back getting ready to shoot at you.

“Where is Lena Luthor?” he asked with a gruff voice. You eyed him carefully, you knew he’d shoot you no matter what you just had to know when the bomb would go off. You used your x-ray eyes to find the bomb and raised an eyebrow, it had a timer on it which was totally impractical, not that you where complaining.

“She’s not here.” you lied watching the timer only less then a minute left. He shot near your knee only to watch as the bullet bounced of leaving a hole in your pants. The both of you stared silently at each other and you smiled. “See you really shouldn’t have done that.” 45…

He started firing at you again and again until he had no more bullets left. You stood there waiting patiently for him to finish when the door burst open. 40…

Lena Luthor stood there with all her glory a fierce look in her eye, shock filled her features when she stared at you. You looked down your clothes where riddled with bullet holes and she was probably surprised to see you alive. 30… You remembered the bomb and flew forward quickly knocking the man out carefully you removed the bomb from his vest and held it close to you. 25…

“I’m sorry I never told you Lee,” You paused before jumping out the window. Lena screamed as you struggled to fly upward, away from all the skyscrapers. You grunted softly, you hadn’t flown in a long time. You examined the bomb with a bittersweet smile. “So much trouble for such a little thing.”

You curled the bomb into you careful to make sure nothing stuck out wen it exploded. You gasped you were falling and had forgotten how to fly. “I’m sorry..” you trailed off knowing Lena couldn’t hear you.

“(Y/n)?” you heard Kara ask. You felt strong arms catch you and the last thing you heard was Lena screaming and the whisper of, “I love you.”

…

When you came to all you could hear was arguing and you felt a soft hand gripping yours. “Will you all shut up? She’s waking up.” Your eyes felt heavy when you opened your eyes. You groaned and sat up stretching when a hand pushed you down gently.

“Whoa there bud, I thought I told you the only time to come back here was when you wanted to work for us?” teased the voice of Alex Danvers. You grinned sluggishly and turned your head to see Lena sitting their with puffy eyes. You felt immediate guilt and opened your mouth to speak when you felt arms wrap around your neck tightly. Alex smiled and pulled Kara along, who waved at you, to give you two privacy.

You held Lena in your arms feeling the sobs that wracked her body. When she stopped crying the two of you stayed like that a little while longer. When she pulled away she kissed your cheek and punched your arm. “Ow!”

“How could you, without so much as a warning, jump out of a window?” She asked angrily, “I mean it was incredibly brave, and selfless, and you saved so many people, but maybe give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” She rambled running a hand through her hair. You smiled and without thinking placed a hand on her cheek. She stiffened an you froze realizing what you where dong.

“Oh crap sorry Lena, I uh wasn’t thinking, um I’m sorry, please don’t hate me- Mmph!” You where cut off by her swiftly placing her lips to yours. You kissed back after a second or two and she melted against you. Her lips were soft and rough all at the same time, your breath mingled and she dug her hands into your hair.

“I love you.” she said when you both pulled away breathing hard.

A goofy smile appeared on your face, “I love you too, and I’m sorry about not telling you about everything.” She ran her hands up your cheeks and smile at you.

“I understand, and I know that you would have told me eventually. It’s kind of hard to forgive you, but I know that you trust me and I know I trust you, so I forgive you.” She said softly with a vulnerable look on her face. You sat there latched to each other knowing that you loved each other.

[xb-squaredx]

Injustice 2 Review: Loot Boxes Among Us

Netherrealm’s second crack at a DC fighting game, Injustice: Gods Among Us was a great deal better than the failed Mortal Kombat Vs. DC Universe developed years prior. Four years after the first Injustice graced us, Netherrealm Studios is back with a sequel that packs in a ton of content, a decent library of characters from the DC comics and a number of adjustments or improvements to the core gameplay, though it doesn’t come out the other side totally unscathed… In many ways, Injustice 2 is a very traditional sequel; take what works and add MORE to it, but the problems begin when some of those additions seem to hurt the core game and leave a bitter taste in the player’s mouth…

As was the case with the first game, Injustice 2 takes place in a DC universe where Superman and a good number of other heroes have gone bad, forming the Regime to bend the Earth to their whims. Batman and the few allies he had successfully defeated Superman with the help of heroes from a more “traditional” DC world, and the sequel follows the ramifications of that. Batman and friends are forced not only to contend with The Society, a new group of supervillains attempting to fill the power vacuum, but also with the malevolent, creeping shadow of Brainiac as he sets his sights on Earth as another addition to his planetary collection. The story is fairly “safe” when it comes to comic book fare, but it’s told well overall. Everyone puts in a good performance and a good number of characters get a chance to develop a bit. Harley Quinn continues her path of redemption and growing out of Joker’s shadow, Flash and Green Lantern similarly attempt to patch things up with the world after joining Superman in the last game, and with the introduction of Supergirl, the fall of Superman is played for all the drama it’s worth.

The cinematic story mode for the most part is fairly ambitious, fighting game narrative or not. There’s decent shot composition and fight choreography (particularly in the Flash and Reverse Flash scuffle), the greatly improved facial animations work with the actor’s performances to really help sell certain scenes and it’s of a decent length. I liked that they would occasionally make chapters with two characters paired up, the player able to choose which one to control for a given fight and that leads to two potential endings for the game when a final choice must be made. That said, characters kinda come and go at a moment’s notice in the story and many don’t feel all that necessary to the plot (such as Atrocitous or Swamp Thing), or in the case of characters like Harley Quinn, some characters seem to get a little too much spotlight. A scene near the end of the game also raises a ton of questions; a character that seemingly died (read: was vaporized) not one scene before is revealed to be alive and able to swoop in at JUST the right time to save the day with no lip service paid to how they even survived in the first place. Still, Netherrealm didn’t rest on their laurels with this one.

The main gameplay itself is very similar to the first Injustice and in that sense, similar to the Mortal Kombat games to a degree. Characters from all throughout DC’s catalogue have three main attack buttons, a unique “character power” for the last face button and a variety of special moves and a super move they can pull off, with super meter management continuing to be a big part of the game. Meter gained by attacking can be “burned” to either enhance special moves or perform other offensive and defensive actions, the strongest of which being their cinematic super move. Meter can be applied to heavy attacks or when using stage transitions to give you some super armor and allow you to perform the action without being attacked out of it, or players can use some meter for a push block if an opponent is too in-your-face, as well as perform a roll to close gaps or get out from corners and even recover in the air to cut combos off early. The Clash system also returns, and when players are on their second health bar, you can pop off a Clash that forces you and your opponent to wager portions of your super meter. If done right, the one being attacked can regain all the health they lost from a combo, or else the opponent can choose to bet more meter to lay on more damage. All-and-all, I like the variety of options presented and feel that I always have to think my next action through and decide if I really want to Meter Burn that special move or save it for something else.

While most of the characters from the first game return relatively unchanged, the tweaks that have been made are appreciated. Flash has some interesting moves that take full advantage of his speed, and Harley’s character power being her pet hyenas works a lot better than the random gifts she had beforehand. The new editions are also welcome; from the various weapons Blue Beetle summons, Starfire’s aggressive beam spam, and the gun kata that Red Hood pulls off, there’s a lot of creativity on display. The standouts for me are Swamp Thing and Atom, so much that I can forgive two Mortal Kombat characters and relatively boring movesets for the likes of Poison Ivy and Firestorm.

Now, this being like the original Injustice, there’s a lot of emphasis on ranged play, which I can’t say I’m a big fan of seeing return. On the defensive side, it’s hard to close the gap on an opponent that sends a variety of beams and bullets at you. While new defensive options like the roll can help, you need meter to do it, and you don’t build any meter by blocking, which is something you’ll likely be doing a lot of when trying to get in on a ranged fighter. Characters like Deadshot just feel kind of…braindead to play, honestly. Don’t get me wrong; you can do some cool stuff with that character…but why bother when a few gunshots that instantly travel full screen do just as much damage? The stages are still quite big and filled with interactive objects you can jump off of or chuck at opponents, as well as flashy scene transitions if you land a hard hit near the stage’s border, which I am a bit more a fan of. I like that the stages feel a tad more alive in that sense.

Undoubtedly the newest feature the game will be known for is an extensive character customization system, with a variety of modes randomly awarding “gear” to players to play dress up with all their favorite superheroes (and villains). The customization actually runs pretty deep, and includes different color schemes for characters and even additional special moves. Taking such iconic characters and letting players customize their look, especially considering the outfits some of these characters have worn in the past, is a great idea on paper…but in execution I find it to be a tedious grind. While you can get gear by itself, often the game will give you “Mother Boxes” which is just placing a comic book term over what it really is: a loot box. Loot boxes have become quite controversial in recent years, and I can’t say this game makes me warm up to them at all.

Mother Boxes come in a variety of forms: bronze, silver, gold, platinum and diamond, each tier granting more loot and often better pieces of gear. But this is just the first of many aspects that this game borrows from various other “free-to-play” type games. There are not one but FOUR currencies to juggle. Credits are gained by playing matches and are used to buy Mother Boxes, though oddly enough you can’t buy Credits with real world money, so that’s…good? However, that’s what Source Crystals are for! Source Crystals are very, very rarely given as rewards in normal gameplay and these ARE available to buy for real world money, with bundles that range from one dollar to 100 dollars. What do they unlock? Color palettes. That’s it. Even basic ones cost thousands of crystals and you’ll be lucky to get a few hundred at a time. Of course, I happen to think most of the colors look pretty bad anyway, but for those that DO want them you either have to fork over a LOT of cash OR prepare for a real grind.

The game, for whatever reason, also has Guilds that players can join, where they can take on certain challenges in exchange for rewards, such as Guild Credits to buy Guild Loot Boxes, and then if one wants to “transform” a weaker piece of gear into a stronger version, you can use Regen Tokens for that, which are also somewhat rare rewards. What do I mean about “stronger” gear? It’s all cosmetic right? WRONG. All gear comes with stat modifiers and certain other perks that actually make your character stronger in addition to changing their look. In that sense, it’s a bit like an RPG, and for the most part these modifiers are required for The Multiverse mode, where a lot of single player time will be spent. Players pick a given planet and attempt to beat various fights with certain conditions or events placed on them, and if successful, you get quite a lot of gear and Mother Boxes…but these are timed and many of them are extremely difficult, requiring better and better gear to even stand a chance. Of course, your character’s own individual level (which ALSO raises stats) is a factor, and it takes an extremely long time to level them up, dozens upon dozens of fights. What makes it worse is that until they level up, certain gear you obtain can’t be used, and each fighter has two other special moves that can be equipped when reaching level 10 and level 20, effectively being held hostage in exchange for your time. I can’t tell you how much gear I’ve gained for characters that I can’t use because it’s at too high of a level; it’s far rarer to unlock gear that is immediately usable.

That’s the real killer with Injustice 2 for me. On the one hand, it has everything that made the original game good, plus more. The story mode is still more ambitious than about any other fighting game out there, the visuals receive a nice boost going to the modern consoles, the facial animation is a gigantic leap forward and there have been neat tweaks to gameplay that I appreciate…and you get to play with Hellboy and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! However, for all this wealth of content, the COST to experience that content doesn’t always match up. Sometimes it’s time, sometimes it’s one of the four different currencies, but it all adds up to the same problem: there’s a lot of this game that’s being held hostage right out of the gate. Go boot up The Multiverse when first starting the game and you’ll find a ton of challenges that you either can’t select because you aren’t at a high enough level, OR that you can’t beat because your opponents are at too high of a level and you simply aren’t going to do enough damage to beat them in time.

The gear is a great idea, but flawed in how it’s distributed. When awarded gear in most modes you don’t even see what it looks like until you go back to the customization screen, you just get a placeholder image! While the custom options I’ve seen look really fun and you seem to have a lot you can do with a given character, the random nature of acquisition means I have no idea what a given character’s options even are. If there was an in-game shop where you could at least SEE all of the gear options a character had, I’d be more forgiving; at least there, you have a goal to work towards. “I want THAT chest plate for Blue Beetle and it’ll go great with THOSE pants!” I haven’t even touched on the balancing aspects to gear either. It’s possible to end up fighting a character that, statistically, is better than you in every way. Now, online if you go into Ranked mode the stat modifiers will be turned off, to my knowledge, but otherwise in casual play BOTH players have to agree to turn the modifiers off EVERY match. I’m not sure what happens when it comes to the additional special moves in this case. One of the first rewards I ever got was a move for Scarecrow, a teleport he doesn’t usually have and it’s possible that when playing with friends, I’d have an unfair advantage due to a lucky roll. Honestly, they should have just made the stats a thing that applied to The Multiverse mode exclusively and then from there it’d just be cosmetic changes in normal play. It’s not like Injustice 2 is the first game to try something like this either; both Tekken and Soul Calibur have extensive character customization and they found a way to do that WITHOUT disrupting balance OR making them tedious grinds.

At the end of the day, I do like Injustice 2 a lot. It improves on the original in terms of presentation (not everything is gritty and muddy, and there’s actual vibrant colors!), providing a ton of value for single player and some great additions to the cast, but the grind-heavy, tedious nature of unlocks for character customization and potential game-balance issues puts a bad taste in my mouth. It’s not like Warner Bros. isn’t known for ruining other games with microtransactions or rushing out port jobs either. So much of the game seems tainted by applying these business practices to the design, and it ends up serving the game to players in small chunks, when it should be a more cohesive whole. I got the game on sale, with all of the character DLC and some of the special skins and even then, there’s still a lot gated off. Darkseid remains a pre-order character that you’d have to pay for now and while you unlock Brainiac from beating the story mode, the game isn’t very eager to tell you that and says you can unlock him for $5.99! For a game that already doesn’t seem to value a player’s time, those extra purchases can really add up. In the end, I am…very concerned with the future of the Injustice series after this. I like Netherrealm as a developer…I just think their publisher is poisoning the well.

Until next time.

-B