#and just how fucking well it RUNS damn near no loading even when transitioning through 3 separate maps

[mochapanda]

tears of the kingdom was never made to replace botw in the same way majoras mask was never made to replace ocarina of time and yall need to fucking get over it

[annakie]

An Annotated Mass Effect Playthrough, Part Nine

Previous Posts: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Wheren we run out of sidequests, so we head back to the Citadel already.

With the quest log pretty empty, I didn’t feel like flying around the galaxy hoping to bump into something Hackett wanted me to do already, so let’s go finish up some of those loose sidequests and pick up some more!

I didn’t grab a screenshot of this, but one of the mods (faster elevators maybe?  Or MERe?  IDK!) COMPLETELY removes the scanning component from getting on and off the ship.

I don’t remember the exact origins of this, but one tick Annakie Shepard has is... she really really fucking hates being scanned.  And it probably was because of how long the scanning bit of getting on and off the ship here took, but I used to always try to outrun it if possible, or at least put up the effort.  I’m so glad it’s not here at all.

The only acceptable scan is Chakwas scanning her for medical reasons, and even that is just barely ok.

Anyway, here we are, freshly not-scanned, heading right down to C-Sec to... oh no what’s this?

Ah.  Yes.   Mikhailovich.  Here for inspection.

One of the reasons I cheat in Paragon points is that it’s nearly impossible to ever make Mikhailovich happy unless you don’t come back to the Citadel for a very long time.  So maybe I could have gone to Noveria and done the Paragon Point Cheat, but one cheat or another, doesn’t really matter.

The Mikhailovich encounter is another one of those things that didn’t have to be in the game, but is great worldbuilding.  Not everyone agrees with the Normandy being built, or the turian design, etc.   Mikhailovich is right that some of the things we built here could have been tested in a lab, you know.  It was a huge chunk of money, but it’ll be wrong later in thinking it’s a waste.  He also again shows that people aren’t sure that working super close with the turians is a good idea, which, again, he’ll be wrong about, but it’s a good thing to see differing opinions on a lot of things.

Anyway, I like this bit not only for that reason but to see Kaidan’s salute.

Finally, after lingering at the dock for who-knows-how-long while the Admiral inspected our ship, we get down to C-Sec, ready to...

Oh what’s THIS now?

Time for another interview, this one a little more voluntary.  

Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, Westerlund News.

She’s a character I have very mixed feelings about.

On one hand, well, I used to love to punch her out.  And now I never do.

She’s clearly digging for an angle here in her interviews.  She’s reporting for humanity, not the council races or galaxy as a whole.  But answering her diplomatically here, she’s another character who questions you and what you’re doing, but doesn’t actually step over any lines.  It’s more when you get testy with her here, she gets touchy back.

It would be a shitshow with the fanboys I think if you took out the option to hit here.  But wow that moment... didn’t sit right, especially when it was an MShep doing it but it’s not a great look for Femshep either.  Nobody should hit ANYBODY unless it’s actually necessary.  Getting your feels hurt by a few tough, even unfair questions... does not call for punching.

Especially today when we’re already getting scary close to losing freedom of the press.  Being diplomatic with her really nets the best responses in 2 and 3, as well.

And maybe if we hadn’t just gotten raked over the coals by Mikhailovich it’d be less grating to then get questioned by a reporter.  But I find it interesting how the game keeps pushing and questioning Shepard, and maybe even trying to find holes where maybe Shepard or the Alliance isn’t completely right, or could be questioned.

Damnit, Chorban and Jahleed.  Just kiss, already, neither of you are trying to kill the other!!  

I do love that Chorban figures everything out based on your scans... just like... a couple of years too late.  Anyway, I already finished all the scans, no way I’m not finishing this quest with Chorban for that sweet XP.

And YOU, using a girl with no undercover experience and putting her in Chora’s de-- what’s that?  Conrad dies if I end this quest early?  SIGH.

Also... Gideon Emery.  So you’re fine.  All is forgiven.  I’ll do your dirty work.

Helena Blake!  I DEFINITELY won’t forget to go speak to her, get back on the Normandy, do another planet quest, realize I didn’t speak to her, then go back to the Citadel just to actually pick up this quest, then pretend later on in this update that I remembered to speak to her all along!

I mean, speaking as if I were someone who hasn’t played the next two games, this is DEFINITELY SUSPICIOUS right?

I guess in a way, we did pull our gun on Conrad all along.

Just give me the damn mods.

Honestly, I love this part of the quest because you can COMPLETELY fuck up by being too goody-goody.  I have probably had to reload after mindlessly clicking paragon answers more times than I care to admit.  This time, I remembered to not obey the law.

The second reason I wanted to come back to the Citadel is that after one planetary mission, Morlan’s Iconic Armor shop (which, again, is thanks to ME1Recalibrated) sells special armor for Kaidan, that looks like his ME2 armor, so he has his own unique look.  

A picture from later, once the armor texture is loaded correctly.  (Turns out it required a restart.)

I LOVE IT.  Thank you, MERecalibrated team!  Welcome to Kaidan’s look for the rest of the game.

Let’s head up to the presidium!

Whoops, shoulda brought Ashley along.  I’m sure whatever he wanted to talk about can wait til later.

BTW, that gif isn’t sped up.  

If you don’t have the console enabled and aren’t setting your out of combat runspeed to at least 800 whenever you’re anywhere you have a lot of running to do, then consider doing so.   I’ve found 800 is the perfect amount of fast without leaving me slamming into walls constantly

The annoying thing is that every time you have a major area transition or have to reload the game, you have to do it again, but after the first time it’s 4 keystrokes.

` then up arrow, then [enter], then ` again.

Also your companions may fall behind, but that’s only an issue for the places they have ambient dialog.  So mostly I start using it on the Citadel after going everywhere once, and then most of the time on the Normandy and sidequests.

Oh let’s talk to this nice lady.  Oh no, her sister has been kidnapped, how sad!

Well, the poor woman deserves my help, I’m sure it’s all on the up-and-up.  Sure, I’ll rescue your sister!  I’m glad we have this friendly relationship that will be profitable and non-lethal forever!

You DID know that Anderson and Udina comment on each major mission afterwards, right?  It took me more playthroughs than I care to admit to discover this.

Also, this is a kind of humanizing moment for Udina here.  He tells us how the council isn’t happy that we lost the prothean ruins at Therum, then Anderson stands up for us (we love you, Space Dad), and then he actually really backs off and says in a much softer tone “I know, I know.  But we all get judged on how you behave.”

And again, we’re not meant to love how he says it, but um, Udina is right.  Everything we do has repercussions throughout the Citadel, and sometimes the Galaxy.

Poor Liara, the only one left without an iconic armor in ME1.

Also, like Tali earlier, she hilariously has lines in quests we turn in or make updates to that she has no business knowing about.  I guess she read all the questlogs while traveling back to the Citadel.

While we’re here on the Citadel, let’s take a flycam visit around to the edge of the room, shall we?

So we’re heading out, towards this building, past the Mass Relay sculpture.

What you can see as soon as you’re near it and then over it, is that that building hides the seam where the water meets map.

From just beyond it, there’s the apartment-looking building, for whatever reason you can see through the textures on the other side, leaving just the roofs/floors visible (the slats).

It took quite a while to go this far, but eventually, you can find the invisible wall where the cars spawn from, and not long after, the map ends.  The map is very curved, btw, that’s no illusion.  There’s no chance you could see this far without flycam.

Looking back, you can see the bridges in the distance, but the Relay sculpture and where Shepard is standing is very far away, quite difficult to see even if the full-sized screenshot.

I love how huge these maps are.  It makes the illusions really work and the sense of scale works BECAUSE it is actually just... that big. 

Well, back to smaller issues.

Again, a great quest not only from a memorability perspective, but a worldbuilding one.

How does religion work in this galaxy?  Well, some people still have it.  Enough that there’s laws in governing how people are able to spread that religion.  I think that the council actually enacted a fairly sensible law here -- they cannot allow zealots to take over near the seat of government, but also people should be free to worship as they please.  

I myself am a person of faith who, despite being brought up in a HIGHLY Evangelical movement, now very much believes that people should be able to worship as they choose, (or not at all!) but also that faith is a private matter and shouldn’t be forced on others.  

So yeah, the hanar is being unreasonable, but should still be spoken to with respect.  It’s good that this particular hanar takes it well.

I am honestly dying to know how the hanar deal with the absolute proof that the Enkindlers were just... people.  I mean we saw the one hanar in ME3 react to Javik, but you have to think that the religion as a whole must get shaken up a great deal after the game ends.

Also... seriously read Mass Effect: Annihilation (the quarian ark book).

Anyway, I like resolving this peacefully and getting the hanar to leave peacefully.  Calling someone a big stupid jellyfish is hilarious in the moment, but not so nice once you think about it.  

Ah, Michael and Rebekah.

I love this quest because... it’s not cut and dry.

I don’t think either of them is wrong. I think they’re facing a tough choice and they both have good points.

For a long time, though, my response has been that it’s Rebekah’s body, her choice.  

But the funny thing was, this time when I was playing, I didn’t see this as just an allegory to a woman’s right to choose.  From Michael’s POV, it’s more of an allegory to Anti-Vaxx.  Obviously back in 2007 when the game came out Anti-Vaxx wasn’t nearly as much as a concern as it is now, so I love that this small part of the game actually grew more meaningful over time.  

Yes, there’s a SMALL chance you could hurt the child from the procedure, but a greater chance of harm if you don’t.  I had a harder time choosing this time, like, oh, am I going to lean a bit more towards being pro-choice, or pro-vaxxination?  I’m pro both of those things??

I still sided with Rebekah.  Mostly because I know the kid turns out OK either way.

Well, for a couple of years, at least.

Emily!  You changed your clothes!  What’s that?  You want me to plant bugs?  Won’t someone notice?

Guess not.  Not even this bug.

I’m sad that this is the last we’ll see of Emily Wong face to face.  But hey, a good reporter, and good person.  :salute:

Kahoku... thank you for finding out about Cerberus and telling us.  The first time we hear the word I think, in the game?  

You will be avenged.

Welp time to head up to the ship and go off on some sidequ--

I mean... Uh, time to go talk to Helena Blake, OBVIOUSLY.

(Also Liara you cannot climb that wall, stahp.)

I love them having just a bad bitch like Helena with her sneaky-plan to kill her business partners so totally above the board by Shepard, but hey, she’s just a concerned citizen giving tips to law enforcement, right?  She’s awful, and she knows it, and she’s cool with it.

Well, since Ashley magically appeared in the party without me going to the Normandy AT ALL, as long as we’re here, let’s go talk to Samesh Bhatia

A great moment for Ashley, remembering her friend, and treating her husband with so much care and kindness. OBVIOUSLY we can do this very easy thing for him.

Fuck, this just got a lot more complicated.

I love this quest because it puts you between a rock and a hard place.  Again, neither side is wrong.  Samesh SHOULD have his wife’s body back.  But it IS important research.

For a long time, I didn’t give a shit about the research and would get the body back, no matter what.

But so many more lives are saved with the research.  So this time I ask him to understand, and he does.  But it never sits quite right, either way.  

As my other SciFi favorite franchise* reminds us in one of its most poignant moments...  Sometimes the needs of the many do outweigh the needs of the one.

Okay now we’re heading back to the Normandy for the first time this update, and next time, back out into space!

*Star Wars is a Space Opera, not SciFi.

[ginmo]

I’d very much like to hope this isn’t George’s end for Brienne, and I don’t really believe it is, but a tiny bit of me thinks back to how D&D said they seeded in endgame stuff in S4 because it was the first season after they had that story conference with George and there was so much emphasis on the white book that season. But we’ll never get ADOS so I’ll remain happy in my headcanons.

You know what was also seeded in S4 and even in later seasons after their conversation with GRRM? Their marriage.

4x01: Jaime and Tywin conversation, with Jaime protesting becoming heir because he wants to be near Cersei. Assuming his character has development and will break from her (which he does in canon and should have been starting at that point), “I don’t want a wife, I don’t want children!” would translate into him willingly getting married and wanting to openly father.

4x01: Maybe you’re a Lannister too

4x02: While the Bear and the Maiden Fair is playing in the background, Loras tells Jaime he’ll never marry Cersei and then walks off. When he walks off, Brienne walks past and Jaime looks up at her.

Then we have the whole conversation with Cersei and Brienne, with Bear and the Maiden Fair playing in the background again. The scene establishes that Brienne is in love with Jaime (and CERSEI NEVER FINDS OUT THEY BONE ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME ugh that’s another rant). The Brienne and Cersei scene isn’t direct marriage foreshadowing of course, but when you couple it with the previous scene with Loras, Jaime and the Brienne transition … well.

Also why the fuck would they seed a ONE EPISODE consummation in episode 8 all the way back to the beginning of season fucking 4 (and even back to season 2) if there was no intended meaningful endgame for this relationship? And the best part? GRRM wrote that episode, and we know he wrote those scenes because he mentioned he had to imagine how a Cersei and Brienne encounter would go down.

4x06: Jaime and Tywin conversation, with Jaime showing a bit of growth by agreeing to “marry a suitable woman and father children named Lannister.” He’s essentially choosing Tyrion over Cersei. (so lmfao to their switch from his core being “the things I do for love” to “the things I do for Cersei.”). Considering this is the last conversation he has with his father, with him saying “you have my word,” that gives scene a lot of fucking weight in terms of foreshadowing. YES, the plan didn’t work because Tyrion went crazy during his trial, so he doesn’t have to hold to any agreements he made with his father. But… that misses the point. In that season, Jaime went from totally rejecting any outcome where he’d have to leave Cersei, to choosing his brother’s life over his twin and accepting his role as heir. Because he showed that growth, and this was the last conversation he had with Tywin, it sets up the possibility of him being able to make that decision willingly in the future.  

Also, that scene is like a checklist lol. Tywin is telling him to leave the KG, which HE DOES, and then marry a suitable woman to father children named Lannister (oh HEY there’s a Lady Brienne who you just sent on a quest, gifting her with your own fucking sword -a classic literary symbol for love-, who you coincidentally just had a transformative journey with, and who coincidentally just had a scene where it was revealed she was in love with you HMMMMMMM I wonder where this story is going) 

5x03: Brienne’s happiest moment. This scene right here is why I LOATH HER ENDING FYI. They really failed at adapting her character to screen, but her ending on the show even sucks WITHIN IN THEIR OWN NARRATIVE and defeats the entire fucking point of her character. (I’m not going to rant about that anymore, but I’ll link you to posts that explains why I hate it. [1], [2], [3] [4]). 

Anyway, not only have they been setting up Jaime for marriage, but they also threw this bit in that show’s Brienne isn’t opposed to marriage and being a lady!! She literally says the happiest she had ever been was when the boys wanted to marry her and take her back to their castles. This scene is now completely pointless! Yes, it was to show why she was so devoted to Renly, but they could have written it a million different ways without adapting the romantic rejection element to her arc if they were just going to shit on it in the end? They didn’t have to say she loved the idea of marriage and living that life style? SO LOGICALLY, before the S8 mess, one would think there was a narrative point to throw that in, and that it could be foreshadowing of a marriage between her and Jaime if you add everything up (and for book readers especially since this is also heavily foreshadowed in the books)

5x04: Jaime drooling over Tarth. Seriously, WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THIS SCENE other than to continuously seed his connection to Brienne and possibly foreshadow HIS ENDGAME DESTINATION? Keep in mind they spent loads of money and time on actors to stand around so Jaime can stare at a CGI Tarth. If they wanted to just show that he was thinking of Brienne (again, WHY, if it was meant to be just some half episode fling?!), they could have done it in a way less expensive and time consuming way through dialogue, or him writing her name down on his page of the White Book (WHICH HE DIDN’T DO ON THE SHOW DFGHSLKDJSFGHL) but NO they INTRODUCED THE ENTIRE FUCKING ISLAND I mean…. 

5x10: Jaime tells Myrcella he’s her father. In the books, it is made clear that Jaime develops a desire to want to father his children, but knows he’s unable to. He even has a thought about how if he has another child he’s going to make damn sure he gets to hold it. This scene is introducing his desire to father, but is now reduced to being completely pointless thanks the S8 and Jaime apparently not caring about having a child. Before the joke of S8, if you add this scene with everything else, it’s a sign that the Tywin Checklist is on its way to completion, just in a way Jaime had not intended. 

6x06: There is literally NO REASON for Jaime to leave the Kingsguard, other than to release him from vows so he’s eligible to land, titles, and marriage. He could have achieved the same endgame while never being released from the KG. He could have left Cersei to join the North while still being in the KG/QG. In the books he even runs off with Brienne to help her while he’s still in the KG. Then Tommen says this, “you have served your House and your king faithfully for many years, and you’ll continue to do so, but not in this city.” Keep in mind that a) from a narrative standpoint there is no reason for him to leave the KG unless he’s specifically being set up for marriage and b) we were introduced to Tarth in the previous season. 

Then we get the tent scene in episode 8, which isn’t marriage foreshadowing by itself, but it for fucking sure continues to seed that relationship with one of their most romantic scenes (and foreshadowing the bang), almost immediately after he has been released from the KG. Anyone who has the slightest bit of pattern recognition, and able to string clues from a narrative together, can see where this is heading. 

7x04: Brienne accepting her title as Lady. Ignoring the fact she doesn’t reject her title in the books, the show has her say over and over and over again that she’s not a lady. We assume this stems from her insecurities and not because she doesn’t want it, because her insecurities are strong in the books and on the show they even established she was happy with the thought of married life in a castle. So obviously there was some sort of confidence boost for her character development on the show, since she’s now accepting her title with a “thank you” and a smile. So… WHAT’S THE POINT of all this Lady Brienne build up for her show arc if the plan was just to have her ditch her title by joining a celibate organization in the end? This was a seed for a very different endgame. 

We also have the dragon pit scene where Cersei looks at them TWICE. Again, not marriage foreshadowing, but taking everything into consideration and piecing it all together…. 

D&D very clearly had an entirely different endgame seeded. I am convinced GRRM told them the Jaime and Brienne marriage endgame, and they seeded it JUST IN CASE they decided to follow through. They’re lazy writers and never cared about properly adapting Jaime and Brienne (I mean, LSH? Adapting literal opposite scenes like the WST?), and they didn’t have a plan after the Red Wedding (they even admitted to not writing stuff that fans started to guess because sHoCk), They threw in only a COUPLE bits of contradictory endgame seeds just to give themselves an out. Towards the end, they decided to go with the out. When did they decided to detour from GRRM and drop it? I’m not sure, but I think they made this final decision when they suspiciously removed Cersei’s miscarriage scene from S7 at the last minute. 

Anyway, the scene with Brienne reading his page doesn’t even happen in the books, and IF she winds up as some bodyguard in the end (again HIGHLY DOUBT), it’ll be a completely changed KG that allows love and heirs. In the books it is made clear that Brienne is the heir to Tarth and it doesn’t look like her father is going to have any other children. And again, she definitely doesn’t oppose being a Lady, she just thinks she’s unworthy to be one and unworthy to be his heir because of her insecurities. 

[thisisthedungeonthatneverends]

That’s My Story and I’m Sticking To It

Ships: gladnis, platonic cordio

Rating: T

Words: 1240

Gladiolus Amicitia, Prince’s sworn Shield, bares many a proud scar earned in honorable battle in the name of the crown. Yeah, that’s a load of crap. Here’s how he REALLY got those scars.

When Gladio says "fight with a drunk guy who tried to get handsy with Noctis" what he really means is "juggling knives to impress Ignis." It happened in the staff kitchen at the Citadel. Ignis was so focused on getting the crust for his 6,438th attempt at those dumb Tenebrea pastries just right that he was oblivious to the shields attempts to flirt with him. "He should just be grateful that you're going to all this effort and just be happy," Gladio said as he idly twirled a pairing knife between his fingers. Ignis sighed. "If I can give Noctis the joy of a fond memory shared with Princess Luna, then the effort is well worth it." Gladio rolled his eyes. "That's just like you, Iggy. Happily busting your ass for someone you don't care doesn't appreciate how amazing you are." He punctuated the last line with a flirtatious wink. "I appreciate your attempt at flattery, Gladio, but at the moment I need to focus on measurements." Gladio stopped talking, but could not abide being ignored for long. He eyed the row of knives on the magnetic wall strip and took down two large carving blades. THIS would get Iggy's attention he was sure. He flipped one up into the air and caught it flawlessly. Ignis didn't even look up. So he did it again, then again before soon he was juggling three sharpened kitchen knives. Now Ignis had his back turned. Gladio went on for almost a minute showing know signs of faltering, his dexterity and reflexes learned in years of training serving him well. "Would you assist me for a moment, Gladio?" "Sure thing," Gladio answered. But when he turned his head in Ignis' direction, he forgot in his eagerness that there was a knife in the air above his face, a knife that came down blade first and slashed across the left side of his face, from his forehead down across his eye and halfway down his cheek. "FUCKING SHIT GOD DAMN MOTHER-" Ignis spun around when he heard Gladio's sudden string of expletives. "GLADIO WHAT IN THE BLUE BLAZES WERE YOU DOING!?" Gladio clutched his face, blood already dripping between his fingers. "Juggling knives to get your attention god DAMNIT!" "More like being impatient and stupid," Ignis said while he rummaged through a drawer and produced several hand towels. "Move your hand." Gladio complied and let Ignis press the towels to his wound. "Had you waited until the pastries were in the oven you would have had my undivided attention," he said, his voice softer and more sympathetic this time. Gladio laughed in spite of the pain shooting through his face. "I have your attention now, don't I?" Ignis huffed. "Yes, as well as what's certain to be a gruesome scar to prove it." Gladio wrapped the arm that wasn't covered in blood around Ignis' waist. "As long as I have you to kiss it better it's worth it." Gladio’s face turned fine mild amusement to dread. "Just don't tell anyone about this. A shield is supposed to get his scars in defense of his king, not flirting with his boyfriend." "My lips are sealed. We will devise a cover story to preserve the Amicitia honor." And so was born the story of the night Gladio picked Noctis up from Prompto's house and the two were confronted by a drunk man who showed inappropriate interest in Noctis and drew a knife when he was turned down. Gladio courageously stepped between the prince and the blade, earning a scar of honor.

When Gladio says, "having my strength and worthiness tested by a demigod," what he really means is "using Cor's sword as an air guitar while drunk and alone in a caravan."

Gladio didn't want to admit to anyone else how much recent events had been weighing on his heart and mind. Insomnia had fallen, his father and King were dead, and he had failed his duty as Shield, allowing Ardyn to make fools of them all and Ravus to hurt Noctis. He needed time to quiet his mind, sharpen his senses, and strengthen his will if he was to continue to call himself any kind of servant to the crown.

Which is why, once they had the Regalia safely back in their possession and he was sure Ignis and Prompto could handle themselves in regards to Noct's safety, he separated himself from the group. Some time spent with Cor, someone who he could commiserate freely with, would be just the therapeutic diversion he needed to ensure that he was ready to face the road ahead.

But what Gladio had failed to take into account was the fact that where there was Cor, there was beer. And where there was beer there was a Shield of the King who knew not the meaning of the word "pacing."

Which is how on that night Gladio ended up mostly naked save for boxers and socks with the radio cranked loud enough to summon Bahumut, his Nth beer (he had lost count, really) in one hand and a microphone (ok, it was the hilt of Cor's sword, but really what did it matter?) in the other. Not that he was drunk...but he was, in fact, quite happily plastered. Perhaps had Cor not been on a cup noodle run he would have told Gladio to be careful, but as it stood, Gladio had been left to his own devices.

The song on the radio transitioned into a guitar riff, always Gladios favorite part of any rock song. He set his now empty beer bottle on the nearest counter and held his sword as if it were a guitar. He moved with the music, only not so much in rhythm, head banging along without care for the deadly weapon he held dangerously close to his body.

One particularly strong surge forward and he was falling. He thinks his forehead may have colored with the edge of the countertop and maybe he fell on top of the sword, but it was a blur once he hit the ground.

...............

Gladio groaned as his eyes slipped open against his will. The light was to bright and the drum solo in this song was to heavy. Before Gladio realized that the sound was not from the radio but in fact was the pounding of his own drunk and injured head, Cor spoke in a volume Gladio deemed much to loud (It was a normal inside voice)

"What in the actual hell were you even doing, Gladiolus? You damn near bleed to death."

Gladio hadn't the presence of mind to wonder how he had gotten to a bed, but he sat uobin said bed and instantly felt searing pain in his chest and forehead. He cried out and slumped back down.

"On second thought, I don’t want to know. Just sleep it off tonight so you can meet Noctis and the others in Lestalum tomorrow. Take that sword with you, I do t need it here as a reminder of my pupils stupidity"

Well shit, Gladio thought. How was he going to explain his injuries. It had to sound bad ass.

So somewhere in his alcohol and concision induced delirium, he dreamed up the epic tale of the Blademaster and his trials, a test of a true Shields worth. It was as good a story as any, he supposed. Definitely  better than the humiliating truth.

[eternalandrei]

Fly The Colours // Mafia AU

@crypticcovenmom

Cities for anyone but a city dweller could speak of claustrophobia, grime, neon lights and cement - these things were a fact of life for someone borne and bred among it. The high school teenager navigated the chaotic grid of pavement, traffic lights and cigarette ashes with the conviction of a native, adding to the collage of gum and mud by throwing his finished cigarette butt over his shoulder. Of course, he wasn’t allowed, technically - but what Marlyn didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Plus, he felt he deserved it by being such a good sport and carrying various items back from the supermarket like he’d been asked. He was kind of excited for a night in with microwave meals and popcorn, despite his initial aversion to spending time with an adult. Marlyn was patient - he had a kind smile, he offered debate and didn’t make like he was stupid. Quite the opposite, actually. After some help with his homework his grades had rocketed up and now he was practically in danger of being called a nerd.

Not like things were perfect, but Armand had never known perfect, so this felt damn near close, and he had never felt quite so much at ease. His shoulders no longer held tension when he walked and he didn’t slouch and bring his hood up over his face. He stood tall. He hummed to himself and held a knowing smile over a private joke. His mind were occupied with normal things, like college courses and apprenticeships. None of that shit was anything that appealed to him, though, despite the other’s protestations. He didn’t know.. maybe he was aiming for something else, like a degree. Maybe. For once, it seemed there were options. Choices. 

The boy turned a corner, down the small alley that would lead to their block. He turned the key, stepped inside, made his way down the… corridor. He stopped shut when his eyes fell on the door that stood wide open. That was dangerous. Careless, even, in this neighbourhood. Not like him at all. Darkness greeted him at the doorway. Slowly, he flicked on the lights - they flickered, and stilled, and shed light on the kitchen. The feeling in his gut that he had been ignoring up until this moment, the familiar one that accompanied dread, white knuckles and a cold sweat, intensified. There was still a chance to turn and run - to hide somewhere. His therapist had told him to ignore those feelings, though. They were bad memories. They were anxiety. They weren’t real, so he pushed through. He took those couple of steps into the kitchen that revealed a still pool of blood leaking out of a limp body on the floor. 

The bags dropped from his fists. It felt like a dream. A hallucination. He couldn’t believe that the events unfolding before his eyes were anything except a nightmare, but the image didn’t shift when he rubbed his eyes, when he slammed his knuckles against them and against the side of his head. The smell lingered, the image if anything more visceral. 

The noises that left his mouth were pathetic. Whimpering as he forced himself to approach and drop to his knees in mourning for what had just been shattered in front of his eyes. Dangled cruelly in front of him by the world just out of reach of his grasp. And no matter how he shook the body, as violently as possible, no matter how he pleaded, his potential father’s glassy eyes remained transfixed, unseeing, on the ceiling. 

Oh God, it was on him. It was everywhere. Bloody hands, bloody clothes, bloody face. Who could he call? He had no one. Not even the police. They wouldn’t be on his side now, they never had been in the past. Rage clouded every corner of his mind to combat the unmanageable grief and panic that was tearing him apart. Slipping away. Slipping-

“No, Armand, don’t worry. Your books are more important. It’s about time someone stood up to those bullies, anyway. Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine.”

Slipping- 

“Stop fucking crying. Shut up. I said shut up, you little shit. Get back in there and stop whining. If I hear any more sounds from you-”

The safe.

Gun loaded with shaking hands, knife held tight in the other. Red raw knuckles. He knew. Everyone knew, and no one had done anything. He didn’t want to be alive. Maybe, someone would stab him in the stomach, or shoot him in the head. He imagined it with fervor - like he imagined inflicting it on someone else. 

There was a face he had seen. He imagined the beard, the bald head, and the sneer. There was a man that collected, that came in the night. Once a month. Marlyn should have let him sort it out. He shouldn’t have been so stupid.

Now a sense of purpose drove him to away from the body, despite how he had been sitting there, sobbing, for what felt like an age. Transition from child to man. Unable to focus on anything, vision fragmented and tinged with red hot fury at everything and one thing, the boy stumbled out into the street.

Hours of search, of scavenging, it passed like minutes, screaming in the face of seedy-looking strangers in the most intense interrogation for directions ever seen. The blood on his hands did the trick, the look in his eyes. There wasn’t a single person that didn’t back up against the wall and cave, stuttering and pointing. The details didn’t matter, none of them stayed with him. The mental break fucked him up more than any drug he had ever tried. It was more effective, more long lasting. His exhaustion was fueled by adrenaline, the need to keep going, to not get caught by the cops on the beat. He worked quickly, silently, hardly there at all. 

Eventually, he was standing in front of a seedy-looking club, neon lights in the window and bass thrumming. He scanned the building, trying to get a hold of himself enough to plot a way in. Drawing up his jacket and slipping round the side of the building, he found his way past those hanging around out back with cigarettes in hand and waited, after what felt like forever, for his opportunity. Then, he used all his agility to scale the wall and wiggle through the transparent window of the club toilets. 

Of course, this little move got him a few stares and shouts of disbelief and slight aggression from the drunken and fucked up assholes at the urinal carefully arranging lines that managed to notice, but it was hardly any trouble to run past them and out into the deafening music and flashing lights. He knew well enough that if he didn’t act fast his moment would be gone, and he would be caught. But there was a fire under him and an emptiness inside that stopped him from caring about death or pain. Only the task at hand.

And after quiet searching and scanning, he locked onto his target sitting at one of the plush booths. He recognised his lopsided smile and balding head. No one could have looked more ugly to him than this man. He didn’t care. And so, he approached. He stood close enough, with an expression of quiet rage, and eyes fixed on him, that he eventually had to look around. There was no hint of recognition, only disbelief and irritation. 

“What the fuck-”

“Marlyn Jacobs.” He said, slowly, and steadily. The other looked around at his companions, who all chuckled and exchanged glances. It was as good as a confession when he turned back to him with a smirk and a glint in his eyes, although he didn’t dignify a response. There was a look over to a man at security, who took the first step towards them. 

Before he could open his mouth to reply something likely insulting and disgusting, three shots were fired, straight into the murderer’s face, with deadly clarity and aim. In the moment of silence that followed, the whole world stood still. Then, the ringing in his ears subsided a little, and the screaming started, and the running and jostling. Pain ripped up his arm and he clenched his teeth, welcoming it, as the security guard wrenched it backwards and ripped the gun from his hand, slamming him onto the ground. His head hit, smack, on the sticky floor. More pain, more numbness, more ringing. Yes. This was good. Shoot me. Shoot me. Shoot me. It’s over. I just want it to be over. He’s dead, I can die too. I don’t care. Just let it end.

[lesev--inactive-and-sad-abo-blog]

Sand & Bones | Ezra & Sevrin

@icarianezra​

Even back when the Culling still provided a glimmer of hope to the inhabitants of the dying planet, Sevrin was never burdened by the illusion that he’d make it onto one of the shuttles. Although he couldn’t have foreseen Valeris’ shameless hijacking of the entire project, he never quite believed in the lottery, either. He figured there’d have to be a screening of some kind – overall health, education, criminal record, psychological stability. A mandatory baseline, of sorts; a system to filter from the chosen those who were not only worthy of surviving, but had something to offer humanity moving forward.  If luck had seen it fit to pull his name from the billions of other hopefuls, it would have only been out of the universe’s reliably twisted sense humor. No one in their right mind would set him loose on the Civ-Belt-1.

And, if Sevrin were being completely honest, he likely wouldn’t want to go, anyway. To do what? To sit and play nice with all the other children, maybe learn how to measure things in test tubes or something? Just the thought of the sterile, peaceful way of life among the stars bored him to tears. Hell, even if he tried to “behave”, he knew the impulse of his violent pedigree too well – he was a monster, a killer; his very core was saturated in blood – and people like him had no place in the future of their species.

Accepting that fact early on made the transition an easy one for him while everyone else suffered through denial and outrage as they were left behind in a cloud of dust from the final shuttle taking off, aiming for the stars. He’d been right there that day – watching the craft fill with fat wallets and smug faces, standing guard in case any remaining Torchlighters tried to hobble over for one last attempt at Valeris, locked and loaded. For some, that had been the end: no shuttles, no hope. For Sevrin, it was the beginning.

In his contracts, Sev had declined monetary compensation for his employment, and instead chose to stock up for the inevitable ‘long-haul’ ahead. So, thanks to Valeris, he had several caches of supplies hidden outside of the places he frequented, each filled with the little necessities for wasteland survival: rations, water filters, weapons, ammunition, some medical supplies here and there. The Rebellion had a cause, and while that was admirable, what Valeris had offered proved to set him up pretty damn well when everything was said and done. Besides, it was obvious: he was much better off today with the contracts he took from the corporation than he would have been “standing strong” at Colorado Springs when the sky rained fire.

A good distance still from arriving at the place of the Rebellion’s last stand, Sev looked through the scope of his M40 as the black jeep came to a stop near the half-buried Avalancher skeleton marking the location of one of his caches. It was dark out, and the scant sliver of a moon provided barely enough light to make out the figure stepping out from the vehicle. As his finger slid against the trigger’s curve, a skull in his crosshairs, the man turned and the night’s dim illumination highlighted his features just enough to be recognizable.  

It was Ezra fuckin’ Cooper: one of the few who’d been there the day the final shuttle abandoned them to whatever fate the planet had in store.

Sev stood, disarmed his rifle, and slung his pack of belongings over his shoulder, making the hike down from the overlook to approach the other. “Not exactly where I’d expect to run into the prodigal son again,” he said, his tone betraying bright amusement as he came within earshot of the pilot, remembering vividly the look on his face that day as the hatch closed on the craft carrying his less-than-fucking-popular father off to a salvation that a vast majority of those left behind would say he didn’t deserve.