#and since duke is so heavily involved in all the other lives he got involved in this one too

[luxaofhesperides]

Please continue ghostlights multiverse constant au with Earth 0 having a happy ending together cuz halfa Danny is impossible to really kill anymore pleaseeeeeee 😭

(part one)

Danny is destined to die once he meets Duke. He knows this; he’s seen how their friendship leads to Danny’s death is so many different lives. There’s no doubt in his mind that the only way to ensure Danny lives a long life is to stay away from him.

Which is why the universe decides to make Danny pop up constantly. It’s clearly trying to get him killed, and Duke refuses to let that happen!

It starts innocently enough. They cross paths briefly at a bus stop, bumping into each other as Duke gets off the bus and Danny moves to go on it. He recognizes Danny immediately, feels a little spark go through him when their shoulders brush against each other. Something in him says I know you. I miss you.

He pulls back a step and offers a quick apology. Danny waves it off and looks at him as through searching for something. He opens his mouth to say something, but Duke can feel the threads of fate tighten around their throats and hurries away. 

He waits until he hears the bus pull away, then glances behind him to watch it go before he slows down to a normal walking pace and heads for the mall where he planned to meet his friends. 

Duke’s heart pounds in his chest. He can’t get Danny’s eyes out of his head; so painfully blue, so nostalgic, so doomed. 

This is for the best, he reminds himself. This is so Danny can live. That’s all that matters.

The moment’s passed, anyways. They’re still strangers, and they’ll stay that way. 

He takes another minute to collect himself, then plasters on a smile and heads into the mall to find his friends.

The next six times, Duke has to save Danny as the Signal, appearing just in time to stop a mugging, an armed store robbery, a car trying to run Danny over, and fighting off Man-Bat who, for some reason, took one look at Danny and went fuck this guy, actually.

Duke is stressed. He’s Stressed™ and if anyone tries to take out Danny again he’s just going to start screaming. 

For whatever reason, the universe is just out to get Danny now that they’ve run into each other once. Duke’s life is a cosmic joke, and he’s stuck in the center of it all waiting for the moment comedy turns into tragedy. 

It’s gotten to the point that Duke expects to find Danny in some sort of dangerous situation as soon as he starts patrol. He’s starting to dread going out, but he needs to; Gotham needs the Signal to keep the streets safe during the day, and Danny needs Duke to save his incredibly unlucky ass nearly every single day.

The first two hours go fine. He stops an armed robbery and a car jacking, chases away some creeps from the working girls, and gets a blueberry muffin from the bakery that’s been around forever, on account of the old woman running it thinking he’s a good lad who needs to eat more.

Duke begins to hope that he’ll have a quiet patrol. He begins to hope that Danny is safe and not in mortal danger for once.

His hopes are immediately dashed when he spots Danny on a rooftop, standing way too close to the edge.

Heart in his throat, Duke crosses the space between them in an instant, slingshotting himself forward through shadows.

He intends to pull Danny back, to say something, to try and shake some common sense into him so he actually has a chance at living a long life. Duke doesn’t get to do any of that; as soon as he steps out of the shadows, Danny turns to face him with a tired smile.

“There you are,” he says. “I knew you’d find me.”

“What? I—listen, can you step back from the ledge for me?”

Danny steps back, keeping his eyes on Duke. He doesn’t seem to mind that the Signal is so hesitant in this moment, keeping his distance. 

“I wasn’t sure at first,” he says, as if he never stopped talking, “But I had a feeling. You’ve probably had it too, right? It’s why we keep being pushed together, and why my luck has been so awful ever since I came to Gotham.”

He knows, is the first thing Duke things. But how can that be? If Danny knows about all those other universes where they had each other, then he knows how it ends. If he knows, then he should be trying to keep his distance from both Duke and the Signal before he gets killed.

“It’s you under that mask, isn’t it? Duke.”

The way Danny says his name brings him back to all those other lives where they had each other from the start. He sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s always known Duke.

It’s only when Duke says, “How?” that Danny falters, fear briefly crossing his expression before it settles into something more neutral. His fingers begin to pull at the cuffs of his jacket sleeves, confidence melting away. 

“Do you… not know me?”

The quietness of his voice, the fragility of it, breaks Duke’s heart. He doesn’t stop to think before he answers, “I know you. Of course I know you, Danny.” Then he blinks, shakes his head, and says, “Wait. No. I know of you. We haven’t really met this life.”

“It’s the dreams, right? They make things so confusing.”

“You’ve been getting them too?”

“I may be the cause of them,” Danny says with a wince. “Due to some, uh… ghostly magic shenanigans. It wasn’t on purpose! But it is kinda my fault.”

Ghostly magic? Okay, sure, why not. Who is Duke to judge the bizarre things that exist in their world. He has superpowers and his biological father is an evil immortal. He has absolutely no leg to stand on when it cames to the weird and the unexpected. Might as well roll with it, since this is his life now.

Besides, there’s more important things to focus on, such as: “Okay, so, just to be on the same page, you’ve been getting the same dreams as me, yeah? The ones where you always die? Those dreams?”

And Danny, very casually, answers, “Yeah.”

“Dude,” Duke says, pained, “If you know that meeting me leads to your death, then why are you seeking me out?!”

“What?”

“Have you not seen how you die young in every single universe? Because I have! And it’s messing me up!”

Danny blinks at him, then looks guilty, hunching in on himself. “Oh, yeah. That. Uh, yeah, so…” he trails off and bites his lip, gaze kept downwards so he doesn’t have to meet Duke’s eyes. “I do die young always, yeah, but it’s totally not your fault! I just do that!”

“You just do that,” Duke repeats, pained. 

“Yeah. I just die young.”

“Is this somehow not a problem for you.”

To his immense displeasure, Danny has the nerve to shrug and say, “Eh, not really.”

“Danny.”

“It’s okay! Really!” Danny says, a little frantically, “And also it has nothing to do with you! None of my deaths have been your fault, it’s just a thing that happens to me!” And then, in a quiet, rushed mumble, “Also I already died in this universe so it’s fine.”

A strangled sound bursts out of Duke’s throat as he tries very hard not to start yelling. He puts his head in his hands and holds back a heavy sigh because the boy of his literal dreams is stressing him out so much he’s about to dissolve into ashes and ascend to a higher realm where he has no worries. 

Unfortunately, he’s not quite there yet, so Duke has to deal with living in the reality where Danny admits he already died because that’s just what he does: die young. 

Which is, apparently, not Duke’s fault at all. Cool. 

Cool cool cool. He’s definitely not going to have a breakdown about this.

A hand gently tugs on his wrist, making him lift his head to meet Danny’s worried gaze. “Hey, you alright? Do you wanna sit down for a minute?”

And you know what? Duke does want to sit down for a minute. He’s earned it. 

He nods, and Danny carefully guides him back to where the roof access door is, so they can sit with their backs against something and be away from the edge where curious eyes might spot them. It feels easy, practiced, as if they’ve done this a thousand times before instead of just now having their first conversation. Their lives have been linked and twisted together, though only for a short time before death takes Danny away. 

He knows Danny, despite how illogical it is, and that’s what makes him take off his helmet and exposure his face to the world. 

Danny knows him too, after all. 

There is no hiding from someone who is meant to be in his life.

Danny’s smiling softly when he turns to look at him. “Hey, Duke. It’s good to see you properly. Is it weird to say that I’ve missed you even though we’ve technically never met in this life?”

“Nah,” he replies, “I missed you too. Please stop scaring me like that.”

“I make no promises. Expect for this: dying won’t take me away from you in this life. I’ve got it handled.”

“I don’t… I don’t think that’s someone anyone can have handled.”

“I’ve got it handled,” Danny repeats firmly. 

Duke shakes his head with a small laugh. He got so caught up in the guilt of leading to Danny’s death, of being unable to save him, of losing  him in every universe, that he forgot how stubborn Danny is. 

It is a weight off his chest, though. To know that it wasn’t his fault. To know that the worst has already come to pass long before they met in this universe, so they don’t have to fear the future together. 

“So,” he says, “Tell me more about these magical ghostly shenanigans?”

“At least wait until the second date for personal questions,” Danny jokes.

“Okay. Wanna grab dinner tonight?”

It’s nice to see that Danny blushes easily in this universe too. “Isn’t that moving a little fast?”

“We’ve been dreaming about a bunch of other universes where we’re together. We know each other even though we don’t know each other. We’re well past moving fast, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Danny nods. “Alright. Dinner tonight, then. Take me to the best place for breakfast foods in Gotham. I’ve been craving pancakes all week.”

“Sure, I can do that. Mind giving me your number so I can figure out where to pick you up from?”

Danny nods and begins patting his pockets in search of… something. Duke means to grab his phone and hand it to Danny to get his number, but he’s quickly distracted as Danny gives up on his pockets and shoves a hand directly into his own chest. 

Ghostly magic shenanigans. This is probably part of it?  Danny doesn’t look alarmed by this at all, so Duke rolls with it and shoves away his shock at the sight. 

“Aha!” Danny holds up a sharpie in triumph. He sure did pull that straight out of his ribcage. Duke is so chill with it. 

He lets Danny take hold of his arm, removing a wrist gauntlet so he can write on the skin. The cool ink of the sharpie makes him shiver, but otherwise, he stays still. Danny writes carefully, in smooth movements. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds, then he pulls the sharpie away and blows a surprisingly cold breath against Duke’s wrist to help the ink dry faster.

“There we go,” he says with a smile. “Let me know when you wanna have our date, okay? I’m free whenever, so don’t worry about accommodating me or anything.

“I’ll text you once I’m ready,” Duke agrees. He stands up, looking over the numbers written on his wrist. He memorizes them, then puts his wrist gauntlet back on. It’s about time for him to get back to being the Signal, as much as he hates to leave Danny here when they’ve finally been able to have a quiet moment to themselves. 

“I’ll see you later, then.” Danny hesitates, then leans forward and presses a quick, chaste kiss against Duke’s cheek. Duke blinks at him, stunned, his heart skipping a beat. 

He doesn’t get the chance to return the gesture; Danny flushes red, backs up a few steps with a shy grin, and says, “Okay, bye Duke! Stay safe out there!” And then he’s gone, blinking out of sight, and it’s only his meta powers that let him see a faint wispy outline where Danny was. 

It moves, floating up in the air, then flies away like smoke in the breeze. 

Ah, Duke thinks, Ghostly. He’s a ghost. I’ll worry about that later.

His fingers brush against the spot where Danny kissed him. Then he puts his helmet back on and focuses on swinging through the streets of Gotham, ready for anything. 

The sooner he gets done with patrol, the better, after all. He needs all his focus to do that so he can start getting ready for his date with Danny, the literal boy of his dreams. 

This time, this life, this universe, they’re gonna do it right. They’ll make up for all the time their other selves lost. They’ll cherish every minute together, one pancake date at a time.

And to think, it only took a couple dozen different lives to get here.

[henghost]

Twig Liveblog for Arc 14

lots of crazy shit happened in this arc it was so good!! first of all it's so psychedelic. the lambs talking about sylvester in the third person while he just sort of mopes around, barely alive--really a terrifying section. the city of new amsterdam provides quite the psychedelic backdrop too, with pulsing walls and living buildings.

and it's got so many cool nobles!!! i love the infante so much, you all have no idea. greatest wildbow character of all time. and then my second favorite wildbow character of all time (the god mauer) shows up too... and then the two queens face off... we're truly spoiled. this arc has probably some of the best Mauer Moments™ so far. he fucking slits syvette's throat what a badass. his encounter with augustus the noble was kind of beautiful--we see mauer's drive and doubt and determination in one fatal moment. even if mauer commits the most evil acts of all time i'm still ride or die for him.

the time spent as evette was insane--sy's psyche, which has been splitting since the death of jamie, has its most dramatic fracture yet. i find it fascinating the way sy's identity exists only in relation to the other lambs. sy is sy only insofar as he is not helen, gordon, lillian, etc. and when the equilibrium is disrupted, sy cannot really be himself. the lambs are like one organism it's so evil to split them up!!! i think the sequence where evette has her heart outside her body is a metaphor for this idea. i mean they did it to themselves here lol but i guess it's just part of sy's Journey. twig is so existentialist. sy must create himself.

my favorite part of the arc was mauer taking evette to The Block. it felt like something out of true detective. we get a kind of answer at the end of the arc, but there is still so much mystery. i'm such a sucker for conspiracy thrillers involving the abuse of children. such haunting context, too.

and then right after they talk about the child trafficking jessie comes out lmao. so sweet!!!!!!!! the love between jessie and sy is so pure and beautiful it makes my heart race. they understand each other so deeply and fundamentally and intimately. they must kiss imminently!!!!!!!!!!

the interlude with lillian made me want to be an academy student so bad even though it seems so awful lol. it's like "the magicians" i just want to escape into the evil fantasy school. then the infante shows up again let's fucking goooooo. he's very mean to lillian and the lambs but that is his right. i'm also very intrigued about the idea of giving wyvern to the duke, but i would root heavily against him in his quest to harm the infante. i only liked the duke before i knew about the infante, and now that i know there is a larger, more powerful noble, the duke is basically a stupid maggot to me who must be squished more.

[beavtifvltragedies]

[ camilla luddington | she/her ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome AVERY BRADENTON to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 38 year old WITCH, who is one of the SURVIVORS but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be CYNICAL, but that’s all a façade to cover up their INDEPENDENT nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to CONSEQUENCES by CAMILA CABELLO which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world

NAME: avery joanne bradenton née reynolds NICKNAME:  AGE: 38 BIRTHDAY:  SPECIES: witch GENDER: cisfemale PRONOUNS: she/her SEXUALITY: heterosexual FACECLAIM: camilla luddington HAIR COLOR: brown EYE COLOR: hazel

FAMILY :

andre reynolds ( father )

charlotte pearson ( mother )

unnamed reynolds ( older brother )

unnamed reynolds ( younger sister )

SPOUSE: ryker bradenton ( husband, deceased ) CHILDREN: ashton ryker bradenton ( five year old son )

Avery and her siblings grew up in New Orleans in a prominent coven. Their parents weren't the most prominent or influential. But they were among the most loyal. Everything they did, every choice they made was with the coven at heart. Their parents taught the children at a very young age to hone in on their powers and wanted them to move up within the coven and remain loyal.

Avery followed in her parents footsteps, learning complex spells at a very young age and eventually wanted to move up into a position of power within the coven. This was until she met a boy at school and the two became fast friends. The two were pretty inseparable. It wasn’t until later that she found out that his family were members of the opposing coven. This didn’t change how Avery viewed him; she knew him outside of the coven rivalry. But it did change how their parents viewed the other. The pair were no longer able to spend time at each others houses, only being able to see each other at school and extracurriculars.

The pair tried not to let it affect them, remaining great friends for a few years; Avery even developed a crush over time, convincing herself that at some point, they could be together. But over the years, the boy got more involved with his coven and let his parents influence him, naturally pulling him away from Avery. But she didn't give up hope. Even after going away to Duke for college, she still held out hope that eventually they would come back to each other and he would realize that she was what he needed all along.

That was until she met Ryker. He was just some guy in a bar. At first, that is. The two instantly hit it off and started w whirlwind fling that only lasted a short while until his was reassigned and quickly left. The pair promised not to lose touch, but long distance would never be the same. Though their romance was short lived, he had forever changed her life for the better. He finally showed her what she had been missing: a man who chose her, who wanted her. He helped her realize her worth, helped her realize that she deserved a man who would put her first. From that first day she met him, she would never let another man treat her as lesser.

Once Ryker was gone, Avery picked herself up and moved on with a newfound confidence. She graduated with a Masters in Business and eventually moved home and opened her own small coffee shop that she had since worked on expanding to neighboring towns. But what she couldn't have predicted was meeting Ryker again. She then knew that it was fate. The pair were meant to be together. And she wouldn't let him go again so easily.

However, their happily ever ever was not meant to last as Ryker's life was taken just before Avery learned of her pregnancy with their first child. Avery lost her entire sense of self when she learned of Ryker's death, leaning heavily on her siblings and best friend/business partner, the only family who had stuck by her side. This was especially so after the birth of her son.

— ☆ — ONE YEAR LATER — ☆ —

Avery hadn't handled her husband coming back into her life from the dead and seemingly instantly moving on as well as she thought she would. She had built up an idea in her mind of what her life would be if they got a second chance. that to get that ripped away was like losing him all over again.

Despite her heartache, she prioritized their healthy co-parenting relationship. Seeing him and hearing about the other girl may have hurt more than anything, but she knew that the most important thing was for her son to have a relationship with his father and for them to give their son the best life that they possibly could.

After a couple months, Avery knew that she couldn't go on like this. She was essentially a shell of herself, very reminiscent of when Ryker had first died. Eventually she pulled herself up by her bootstraps and out of her funk. The first step of the process was to change her name back to her maiden name to try and find a new sense of self outside of her failed marriage.

She began going to therapy, something she probably should have done a LONG time ago. There, she met Asher Simmons as they were coming out of their respective appointments and became sort of “therapy buddies” and began helping each other out with their progress.

Avery has also dived right back into her work and is currently working on expanding the cafe and creating a performance space for small acoustic sets for smaller artists

Though she’s been working on healing, she may not be making all the best choices. One of those choices being her involvement with a certain athlete turned model. The two are far from serious and far from public; she is well aware of his marriage and is just treating it as something fun while her son is off with his father. For now, that is. We’ll see how long it takes for her to catch feelings.

[rpxgifs]

[ camilla luddington | she/her ] Another face is seeking safety in New Orleans. Make sure to welcome AVERY BRADENTON to the home of the resilient. Rumor has it that they are an 38 year old WITCH, who is one of the SURVIVORS but we’ll keep that a secret. They are said to be CYNICAL, but that’s all a façade to cover up their INDEPENDENT nature. We’ve heard that they can be found listening to CONSEQUENCES by CAMILA CABELLO which sums them up pretty well. Let’s hope that they can find a way to survive this harsh new world

NAME: avery joanne bradenton née reynolds NICKNAME:  AGE: 38 BIRTHDAY:  SPECIES: witch GENDER: cisfemale PRONOUNS: she/her SEXUALITY: heterosexual FACECLAIM: camilla luddington HAIR COLOR: brown EYE COLOR: hazel

FAMILY :

andre reynolds ( father )

charlotte pearson ( mother )

unnamed reynolds ( older brother )

unnamed reynolds ( younger sister )

SPOUSE: ryker bradenton ( husband, deceased ) CHILDREN: ashton ryker bradenton ( five year old son )

Avery and her siblings grew up in New Orleans in a prominent coven. Their parents weren't the most prominent or influential. But they were among the most loyal. Everything they did, every choice they made was with the coven at heart. Their parents taught the children at a very young age to hone in on their powers and wanted them to move up within the coven and remain loyal.

Avery followed in her parents footsteps, learning complex spells at a very young age and eventually wanted to move up into a position of power within the coven. This was until she met a boy at school and the two became fast friends. The two were pretty inseparable. It wasn’t until later that she found out that his family were members of the opposing coven. This didn’t change how Avery viewed him; she knew him outside of the coven rivalry. But it did change how their parents viewed the other. The pair were no longer able to spend time at each others houses, only being able to see each other at school and extracurriculars.

The pair tried not to let it affect them, remaining great friends for a few years; Avery even developed a crush over time, convincing herself that at some point, they could be together. But over the years, the boy got more involved with his coven and let his parents influence him, naturally pulling him away from Avery. But she didn't give up hope. Even after going away to Duke for college, she still held out hope that eventually they would come back to each other and he would realize that she was what he needed all along.

That was until she met Ryker. He was just some guy in a bar. At first, that is. The two instantly hit it off and started w whirlwind fling that only lasted a short while until his was reassigned and quickly left. The pair promised not to lose touch, but long distance would never be the same. Though their romance was short lived, he had forever changed her life for the better. He finally showed her what she had been missing: a man who chose her, who wanted her. He helped her realize her worth, helped her realize that she deserved a man who would put her first. From that first day she met him, she would never let another man treat her as lesser.

Once Ryker was gone, Avery picked herself up and moved on with a newfound confidence. She graduated with a Masters in Business and eventually moved home and opened her own small coffee shop that she had since worked on expanding to neighboring towns. But what she couldn't have predicted was meeting Ryker again. She then knew that it was fate. The pair were meant to be together. And she wouldn't let him go again so easily.

However, their happily ever ever was not meant to last as Ryker's life was taken just before Avery learned of her pregnancy with their first child. Avery lost her entire sense of self when she learned of Ryker's death, leaning heavily on her siblings and best friend/business partner, the only family who had stuck by her side. This was especially so after the birth of her son.

— ☆ — ONE YEAR LATER — ☆ —

Avery hadn't handled her husband coming back into her life from the dead and seemingly instantly moving on as well as she thought she would. She had built up an idea in her mind of what her life would be if they got a second chance. that to get that ripped away was like losing him all over again.

Despite her heartache, she prioritized their healthy co-parenting relationship. Seeing him and hearing about the other girl may have hurt more than anything, but she knew that the most important thing was for her son to have a relationship with his father and for them to give their son the best life that they possibly could.

After a couple months, Avery knew that she couldn't go on like this. She was essentially a shell of herself, very reminiscent of when Ryker had first died. Eventually she pulled herself up by her bootstraps and out of her funk. The first step of the process was to change her name back to her maiden name to try and find a new sense of self outside of her failed marriage.

She began going to therapy, something she probably should have done a LONG time ago. There, she met Asher Simmons as they were coming out of their respective appointments and became sort of “therapy buddies” and began helping each other out with their progress.

Avery has also dived right back into her work and is currently working on expanding the cafe and creating a performance space for small acoustic sets for smaller artists

Though she’s been working on healing, she may not be making all the best choices. One of those choices being her involvement with a certain athlete turned model. The two are far from serious and far from public; she is well aware of his marriage and is just treating it as something fun while her son is off with his father. For now, that is. We’ll see how long it takes for her to catch feelings.

[stxleslyds]

I have read your thought about the Batfamily, now I really want to know your thought about the one who started it, the Batman himself. We can't ignore the fact that Bruce is abusing his children, but there's also some moments where he's being a good father to them. But some of his act doesn't make sense.

He's beating his children, then calling them his son after. He act like a mad man after Damian's death (yeah, they did Jason dirty in here), feeling sorrow and desperately wanting to ressurect him, but then neglecting him continously in the future. I didn't know much about Cass, Bruce seems to always be a good father to her. But her fans once pointed that Bruce (or DC) is too hard on her to not killing/too soft on the others, because the other batkids has killed some villains while under Batman and still got to continue putting on their costumes.

What is exactly Bruce character? How is his relationship with every one of his children?

I feel like Batman can't be in a good relationship with one of his children without destroying his relationship with the other. I always love parents and children relationship in comics, but with batfamily sometimes it just so 'fanon-y' and some are hurtful.

I stopped reading Batman book for a long time. And come back reading that wedding and city of bane arc, because I want to know how they killed Alfred. And honestly those run are terrible. The issue basically just a batcat fanservice, with the worst Batman and Catwoman characterization ever. The batkids didn't even got many appearance and treated awfully as if they are just extras, even if they all are capable and have connection with Alfred.

Hey there Anon!

My thoughts on Batman and Bruce have changed over the last few years, he wasn’t the character that introduced me to DC comics but what I got to read from him at the time seemed good. As time went by, I started to feel like the whole concept of Batman was overrated and he kinda tired me in entertainment such as movies and all that. He never truly was a character that I actually liked so by the time that I read Under the Red Hood I knew that I liked Dick and Jason better than Bruce.

Batman was interesting but I was completely indifferent about Bruce. That whole thing changed around the time that the New 52 was sort of ending, there I started to heavily dislike Bruce and then that turned into pure hate. Now, I am just tired of the guy and every time that he appears in Dick or Jason content my day is ruined.

I hate that DC has been writing Bruce as an abusive and manipulative person and father to his “kids”, he has done a lot of wrong to them in comic history but all went to shit (in current comics) when Bruce tried to manipulate Jason into reliving the day that he died and his resurrection in Batman and Robin vol2. #20 and when he beat Dick and manipulated him into becoming a spy after telling him that he had told everyone that he was dead in Nightwing vol.3 #30.

Bruce was a horrible human being in the pre-New 52 timeline too sometimes, mostly towards Dick but in a way, it felt like Dick was able time and time again to get away from him a little bit. Now none of his kids are given the opportunity to turn their backs on Bruce, they are kept in his surroundings no matter how abusive he becomes towards them.

My biggest problem with Bruce’s abusiveness is the fact that the writers never treat it like he acts in an abusive way, they never make him apologize or have an internal discussion where he realises that he was in the wrong. “Bruce is a horrible person to his sons but it doesn’t matter because he is right and he is Batman so that’s that”, that’s the message that I feel DC is selling us. Bruce never receives punishment or is called out for his behaviour, Dick was never able to tell Bruce that what he did to him was unforgivable, he never got the chance to explain to anyone that he didn’t play dead, and when he came back from Spyral he took all the shit from his “family” himself.

Sometimes DC does something even worse, they try to hide Bruce’s neglect with things that never happened like they did with the Ric thing in Dick’s case. Dick was passed around from villain to villain when he was most vulnerable and at the end of it all DC had the guts to say that Batman had been watching over Dick all the time. Like, why lie in such a blatant way? Does Bruce enjoy watching his son suffer from a far or was he too much of a coward to tell Dick that he was a shit father, got stuck in a hole and then decided to play “Cat and Bat” with Selina instead of caring for any of his children?

The situation with Damian’s death and resurrection was a whole thing that was meant to prove that Bruce loved Damian and considered him his son. But in their effort to make Bruce look like a good father to Damian they completely destroyed his relationship with his other kids and that was also the start of Bruce referring to Damian as his ONLY son. And like you said after Damian was resurrected Bruce ended up neglecting him afterwards which ultimately led Damian to run away.

His relationship with Cass and Duke is something that I cannot explore because I am not into those characters and they are involved in books that I am not interested in. So I cannot say anything about that.

With Tim it’s complicated because I feel like his relationship with him was never actually father/son it was more like mentor/mentee and that seemed to work better for them, ever since they started the whole family thing Bruce started to act a little bit too rough towards Tim and that ended with Bruce punching Tim during the “City of Bane” arc. Bruce never apologised or was shown realising his mistake, but DC made sure to explain that Bruce was going through a rough time so that’s why he did it. It was pure rubbish and I dislike it a lot.

I answered an ask a while ago about how I thought Dick and Jason could become family the way that DC treats the “Batfamily” within comics and I came up with the idea of the “Dickfamily” because I felt like DC made a big mistake the moment they revolved the Bat family around Bruce and not Dick. Bruce is a character that is known for being lonely and for being surrounded by darkness that he only manages to escape through the light of Robin (Dick Grayson because he was the first), he was always depicted as someone who is hard to work with and considers his teammates only co-workers and not friends. He is a difficult person to connect with, so why on earth did DC come up with a family surrounding that man? (I actually know the answer to that question and it is: money, DC did it to sell more comics under the Batman name but we are going to forget about that here, let me be petty).

Why would DC make it all about a man that doesn’t connect or goes out of his way to say that he “works alone” when Dick Grayson is standing right there? DC hates that they created a character like Dick because he is just better than Bruce at everything, he just is, he is better family to Alfred, Jason, Tim and Damian, he was even written as a better father to Damian than Bruce ever was!

Bruce is just not a people person or a person that forms strong bonds with people. And that makes the whole “Batfamily” concept suffer and come off as something forced that doesn’t actually work.

Tom King was one of the writers that tried to kill the concept of the “Batfamily” with Bruce and Selina becoming a couple and by continuously saying that Selina was who was the most important person in Bruce’s life and the one that made him a better person. All Tom King did with that is make fans and non-fans of the “Batfamily” feel rage. Like, I might not like the “Batfamily” but there is no way that Selina comes first to Alfred, Dick or Damian, there is just no way and if that were actually true then that’s boring.

All the writers that have pushed the “Batfamily” concept (try) do it in a way that makes it look grand and of actual essence but without putting any work on it, if you ask me the “Batfamily” (if there has to be one) should only include Bruce, Alfred (he do be dead though), Dick, Tim, Cass and Damian (I suppose Duke too, I don’t know much about him). The “Batfamily” has to be small because that way you can actually build relationships and make them matter. Having Kate, Steph, Jason and so many others involved in a concept that was made to fit around Bruce looks stupid! Bruce has had almost zero connection to Kate and Steph in the last ten years and Bruce’s “relationship” with Jason is a complete joke!

Bruce is just not the character that is meant to be surrounded by too much people, and he is not a good person towards his family so the whole ass concept should be thrown to the trash and finally let it die. But money is important and if there is something that DC will never stop doing, is milking Batman for content that can be (sometimes) pretty basic.

All in all, I think Bruce sucks and that his “kids” shouldn’t be dragged back to him ever again or at least for a long while. All of them would actually benefit from not being involved with anything relating to Batman. Dick could benefit from Bruce and other Bat-related characters staying away from him and letting him live his life in Bludhaven. And Jason? My sweet Chonky? He would be in such a better place if Bruce disappeared from his life, imagine the actually good books we would have if Jason was free to act the way he was meant to do as the Red Hood…

(We saw a little bit of that in the back up story of Detective Comics by Rosenberg, Batman is still involved but he and Jason are definitely not on the same side of the story! So excited for Task Force Z!)

I don’t know If al that I just said answers your question but I hope you have a fantastic week Anon!

[unreadpoppy]

Here’s my dnd OC’s

I’ll say what race and class they are, and a very basic description of their background( cause all their BG are some what long and I ain’t got the time to explain everything).

Solana Starfury: She’s the first DnD character I ever made and played with, due to the DM going MIA, I’m no longer playing as her (although would love to). She’s a 5 level High Elf Wizard (school of necromancy), with a raven familiar called Cerlyn. She’s from a very prestigious elf family that focus heavily on figthing and being warriors and sucked at that but home girl loved to read. This led to her feeling ostracized and she getting disowned on her 100th birthday by her grandfather, who’s a war heor. She lived on the streets for close to a year before she joined the party. 

Ace: He’s a Changeling Bard, who keeps the form of a half elf as a disguise. He never knew nothing from his family or heritage cause he was left at an orphanage. He got kicked out of the place the owner discovered his changeling nature (changelings are essentially extinct in this world cause they were hunted down). He lived by himself, traveling from place to place, always learning and reading until he settled on a village named Lipia and met a young half-elf boy named Pacen (who’s @desenhosdebolso OC). Eventually he left, due to personal reasons, and years later he and Pacen met again. (OBS: Ace is not his real name)

Elizabeth Adawolf: The character I’ll use to play in a new campaign, she’s a 3 level Human Blood Hunter (order of the Lycan) and she’s a noble. She’s the youngest of her family and when she was 10, the household got on fire which led to her mother’s death and her getting the right side of her face burned. Others would make fun of her face, her brother started teaching her how to fight, and after one incident she discovers what blood hunters are and decides to join them. After something really bad happens, she leaves the order and goes traveling around the world, and often killing some monster or other stuff for money (essentially, working as mercenary of sorts). 

Genevieve Nox: She’s a Dhampir Fighter (thank you Unearthed Arcana for the gothic bloodlines) and she’s also a noble. She’s the daughter of a vampire couple, and she has 11 siblings (most of them are adopted) and the one she’s closest to is a firbolg named Gaev (who’s @desenhosdebolso OC). Her life was pretty chill, being the daugther of a duke and all, and when Gaev decided to go search for some answers, she went with him.

Galien: He’s the second DnD character I ever created and he’s a Human Monk. His parents are a half elf woman  and a half orc man, but his mom left him and his dad when he was young. One day his villaged got attacked and some monks took him to the monastery, since he didn’t have a family. There, some other appretinces were major assholes towards him because of who his parents were, and after one terrible incident, that made him go mute, he left. An old woman found him and took care of him, and although he couldn’t say a word, he was grateful. Eventually he joined a group of travelling bards and barbarians, who showed him the fun parts of life. Eventually he left the group to do a bit of spiritual learning and try and find his mother. (OBS: Galien is not his real name).

Magna Nightingale: She’s an Aasimar Warlock and I’ll probably change her backstory but the basics that I won’t change is that she was kinapped by a bad man when she was a pre teen, and after lots of years she was finally able to escape, after renoucing the gods for letting her suffer, she makes a deal with her patron (who I haven’t decided yet what he is). When I rewrite her BG, I’ll either edit this post or make a separate one. 

Cecily Grey: A Human Artificer, but make it a child (she’s like 11 or so). Both her parents were genius inventors. Cecily was born without a leg so her parents built one for her, and although some other kids made fun of her, she didn’t care cause she knew her parents loved her regardless. From early on, her parents knew she was a very smart young girl, so she became interested and involved in their discoveries and inventions. One day, she woke and her parents were missing, which is why she went out in the world. 

Triton Corus: A Triton Cleric and yes Triton is his “name”. He lost his memory, and the first thing he remembers is being found on a beach and someone saying “Triton”, which is why he believes that’s his first name. The people who found were clerics of a goddess of nature, who took care and nursed him back to health, cause he was all bruised and beaten up. The few memories he has is of what he believes is his home, which was underwater, and the felling of being in love. He also had a rind in his ring finger with the inscription “Corus” in it, which leads him to believe that might be the person he was in love with and why he uses that as his surname. Triton became devout to that goddess, for he believes he saved her. After he was fully healed and a firm believer, the other clerics told him to go spread the word and try and find his home and past. 

That’s basically it, I’ll take questions about any of them and below the cut (cause this post is long enough as it is), I’ll leave the drawings I have for 2 of them, all made by @desenhosdebolso​ 

Solana Starfury:

Ace (half elf version and changeling version):

[awhitehead17]

ohoho my goodness okay so for the prompt thing I think it’s be cool if you wrote something about the batfam being absolute trash at board games because detective skills get you no where in candy land. Maybe they’re just playing among themselves and those who haven’t been in the vigilante business as long as the others are better at it or maybe they’re playing with the jla, that’s up to you! No pressure tho, I’d just like to see where you’d go with this. I hope you’re well!

Thanks for the prompt, it was certainly an interesting one to try and come up with scenarios for and I apologise that it’s taken so long to answer this!! 

So this basically ended up being the batfam playing different board games and roasting each other, hope that’s okay because it may not be what you had in mind. 

Hopefully you’ll enjoy it nonetheless! :D 

“Well this is just unrealistic.” Tim comments scowling at the board on the floor in front of him.

Next to him Steph lets out a long groan and cradles her face in her hands in frustration. “It’s a board game Tim! It’s not supposed to be realistic.”

“You’re just mad because you guessed wrong and are now out of the game.” Harper laughs at him from her position opposite him. “Tim Drake, a sore loser, who knew?”

“I’m not a sore loser!” Tim almost yells back feeling himself get worked up in both anger and embarrassment. “This game is stupid.”

“Because you lost.”

“Because it’s unrealistic.”

“I would have thought this game was right up your street dude, but obviously not.” Duke says from Tim’s right, looking a bit despondent at this revelation. Tim sends him a glare, not appreciating his input in the conversation.

Duke isn’t fazed by it, he ignores the look and gestures at the board in front of them. “Cluedo is a detective game and you’re a detective, how did you get it wrong?”

To stop himself from lashing out at Duke, Tim forces himself to take a deep breath. He is getting ridiculously wound up over this stupid game and the others with their goading isn’t helping matters.

“You know why,” Steph remarks with a smirk, “because that giant ass brain of his over thought it all and since he over analysed it, he got it wrong.”

There’s moment of silence in the room after Steph stops talking. Tim huffs at her statement but finds that he really can’t argue against it because that’s probably exactly what happened.

Steph leans back onto her elbows so she’s sprawled out over the floor, “it’s just a game, there’s no need to get so defensive over it. It’s supposed to be a bit of fun with a little mystery involved.”

That elicits a snort from Harper. She gives the blonde a disbelieving side look. “Have you seen yourself when playing Mario Kart? I’ll be sure to use those exact words next time you’re putting a sailor to shame for the language you come out with when a blue shell hits you.”

Steph rolls her eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You totally rival Jason when it comes to mouthing off at Mario Kart Steph. Don’t deny it.” Tim says, contributing to the conversation. He’s pleased that the topic has moved away from him and onto Steph.

Steph opens her mouth to respond but Duke beats her to it. He waves his note pad around wildly. “As fun as it is to roast one another, there’s a game here still to be played.”

Grumbling underneath her breath Steph sits back up and the four of them continue with the game at hand, or at least the three others do. Tim had guessed wrong and now has to sit by to watch, but on the bright side he gets to judge all of their movements now knowing the truth.

-----------

The grimace that crosses his face is entirely instinctual as soon as he sees what box is placed down on the table. With a quick glance around he sees three other’s mirroring his look. Dick opens his mouth to make the comment of why the chosen game may not be wise but instead he shuts his mouth and keeps quiet. He figures they need to learn somehow, being told what to expect is different to actually experiencing it.

It’s currently a rare Sunday afternoon when a majority of the family is over at the Manor at the same time. It’s probably because of the weather that everyone has unintentionally gathered together in the media room, with it heavily raining no one really wants to go adventuring outside.

Dick finds himself surrounded by his younger siblings, some of the extended family they’ve adopted over time and Bruce himself. All of them now sitting around the table after deciding to play a board game together.

That probably should have been the first warning sign. Dick really ought to know better but he had been distracted by the feeling of having all of his family around for once when no one has been injured or the reason why they’re together being a life-threatening crisis.

The decision of what board game to play takes almost twenty minutes to decide. Even then they hadn’t actually decided what to play, it got decided that everyone would place a game of their choice into a hat and it would get chosen at random.

That’s when the worst one of the bunch got chosen. Dick could see the same look he was wearing appearing on his brother’s faces.

Monopoly. That’s the game that’s been decided.

“Is it safe to assume that today is the end of the batfamily?” Steph comments with a laugh.

Almost everyone around the table gives her an odd look and only a couple chuckle along with her. From past experiences when playing this game, Dick knows it’s not the falling out part that’s the issue, the main issue is that Bruce absolutely dominates the game every time. It’s no fun playing with his adoptive father, this is something he’s learnt the hard way. His brothers also had learnt this the hard way, that being the explanation behind the grimaces they all share.

“I would rather play literally anything else.” Tim states boldly looking around, though his eyes often flicker to Bruce.

The two seats to his right are occupied by a confused looking Duke and Cass. “Why? Monopoly’s not so bad, sure it’s long and can get tedious. We’ve played this game before.”

Tim sends him a pointed look but it’s Jason who speaks up from the opposite side of the table. “Yeah sure, but that’s because you haven’t played with Bruce before. You’ll come to despise this game by the end of today.”

“Father gets rather self-assertive when playing this particular game. While I admire his skills and efficiency of winning this so-called game, father tends to take the apparent competition away any time he plays.” Damian claims from his position on Jason’s left.

The youngest Wayne is now scowling at the box on the table with obvious resentment from past experiences.

If Duke looked confused before, now he seems utterly baffled.

“Oh I’m not that bad.” Bruce declares sounded offended. Dick knows him better however, he’s completely faking it. He knows exactly what he’s like with this game.

“Bruce will literally bankrupt everyone within like five rounds of this game.” Tim says glancing around.

Silence falls over them after that and it feels like everyone is deciding whether they should in fact play or not. Of course the earlier members of the family know exactly what’s in store for them if they do play but the newer members don’t.

In the end Steph stands up and grabs the box, clearly stating she doesn’t care and can they just get on with it because staring at one another isn’t getting them anywhere. As the board gets set up Dick shares a knowing, helpless look with his brothers. Well they have to learn at some point.

Three hours later, half of those around the table have their heads in their heads and were wearing disbelieving looks on their faces. It’s as funny as it is depressing.

“This is ridiculous,” Steph mutters glaring at the table, “this is so unfair.”

“Well, I’ll do the honours by saying; we told you so.” Tim gloats with a smirk at the blonde. Steph decidedly glares at Tim instead of the table.

Jason bark of laughter causes Dick to crack at grin at the various of reactions the family is having to Bruce’s domination of the game. The man is stacked with money, having nearly owned every property on the board and has practically bankrupted three quarters of them by now.

“This is why you don’t play Monopoly with Bruce. Hope you all learned your lesson now!” Dick laughs.

There’s a low groan from Duke who soon mumbles out, “Yeah just a bit….”

-----------

“Whoever decided this game can go to hell…” Tim mutters underneath his breath scowling at the paper in front of him.

Next to him Jason snorts. “You only say that because you know who chose this game.”

“My point still stands.”

“Enough.” Dick dejects in an attempt to stop an argument from happening. “Knock it off, we’ve all had our turns to choose and now it’s his turn.”

“But he can’t even play it right!” Tim whines, it’s like he’s a child throwing a tantrum.

“Y’know, no one is making you play.” Duke points out from his spot on the floor, his focus is on the paper in his hands as he continues to draw whatever he needs to.

Tim huffs and kicks his leg out, successfully knocking Duke off balance. Duke doesn’t rise to the bait, he simply grabs Tim’s ankle and shoves it away. “Real mature Tim.”

“Tim likes to complain when things aren’t going his way, he’s immature like that.” Steph comments with a laugh. Next to her Cass is smiling away as she nods her in agreement.

A group of them has gathered into the living room of Dick’s apartment on a slow evening and all have sprawled out across the place. Jason, Dick and Tim are sharing a sofa with Duke perched on a cushion by their feet on the floor. Steph and Cass were sprawled out on the second couch and Damian is adjacent to them all sitting in the love seat.

It’s been a recent between them all, having game nights and taking in turns to choose what is to be played. This time happens to be Damian’s turn and the youngest has chosen to play Pictionary.

It’s a good game, one that is generally enjoyed by the majority of the family, however, what Tim had been referring to, is that when playing with Damian, he tends to lose the point of the game. He takes every drawing too seriously and spends an unreasonable amount of time on each word.

Because it’s Damian, every drawing has to be perfect before he shows them or even hints at what he’s drawing. They’ve tried to explain to him multiple times that the drawings don’t have to be perfect, as long as they are recognisable then that’s all that matters, but the kid refuses to listen.

It can make playing with him very frustrating.

Him, Jason and Tim are used to it, but it seems like Duke and the girls are all taking it in stride. They only get through a couple rounds within like an hour thanks to Damian and it’s getting to the point where Dick is beginning to think that Damian is actually doing it on purpose because he can see how much it’s riling up Tim.

Brotherly love right there.

They’re just finishing off the third round and sharing their terribly drawn pictures with one another. Duke holds his piece of paper up with a sheepish smile, “I tried okay. It wasn’t easy.”

“What is that?” Damian demands as he squints at the mess of blue squiggles on the page.

“It’s supposed to be a sunrise, my word was morning but no one got it.”

“Tt, that’s not a surprise Thomas as that looks nothing like a morning, or a sunrise for that matter.”

“Well, jeeze, thanks Damian. I only had 60 seconds to come up with something and draw it.”

When Damian tuts in obvious displeasure, Dick simply rubs a hand over his face. That kid… he loves him, he does but sometimes he certainly makes it difficult to do so. While Duke is still new to the family, he’s been around long enough to get a feel for what Damian can be like. He simply rolls his eyes and turns the paper away.

“Cass what is that supposed to be?”

Jason’s question to Cass gets his attention, he looks in their direction to find Jason frowning at the piece of paper Cass is showing him. His sister shrugs not looking at all embarrassed with her attempts to draw whatever it’s supposed to be. Dick couldn’t work it out either. As far as he could tell it’s a solid colour of black on the page.

“An eclipse.”

Her answer makes Jason even more confused. “So you decided to colour the whole page black?”

“It creates a shadow…”

“Right.”

In the end Jason shakes his head and leans against the back of the sofa. His expression makes it clear that he’s simply done with everything tonight. Dick snorts at his behaviour before he feels a nudge on his left side.

Tim is looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t you just love game nights Dick? They’re great right?”

His voice is dripping with sarcasm and Dick restrains himself from commenting on it. He does love game nights with his siblings but they sure as hell make it a challenge sometimes. All of them do. Not one of them is innocent.

But as he looks around at the scene he knows he wouldn’t change it. While not all of them are currently present, game nights are an opportunity to hang out outside of the masks, any public personas they play and any emergencies that may be happening.

Dick leans back against the sofa and mumbles underneath his breath as he watches Duke and Damian bicker about the art of drawing under pressure and about how to play the game correctly. “I actually do, yeah.”

[cdkwrites]

fall from grace (6)

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean

When Atem from one of the high houses of Hell is discovered dying in the streets of 1920s Paris by a mysteriously kind angel, tensions of this old war spark when she elects to save his life. The devastating fall out of one simple act of kindness is more than enough to shatter the truce. Soon, it maybe be impossible to avoid the resulting war for all species on Earth.

What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend

——-

cw: mentions of blood, self harm (kind of? there’s no scarring involved, it’s more like Allowing Oneself To Starve To Death), suicide idealization (nothing worse than you’d read in canon ygo), some artistic license re: european history espeically re: the french, violence

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five.

you can read it on ao3 here!

if you enjoy my work, considering supporting me through ko-fi!

From an interview with Katsuya Jonouchi, 1900s “I don’t know what to tell you. I was with Honda when all that happened.”

Dartz was on warpath. Jonouchi almost felt bad for Keket, who was currently the subject of Dartz’s rage. “Seems like Ket let that vampire go again,” Honda said as he joined Jonouchi in Jonouchi’s usual hiding spot. No one knew better than Honda how much Jonouchi disliked Dartz’s moods. “No wonder Dartz is angry.”

“I don’t get it,” Jonouchi said as he examined the terrain below them. High above the clouds, the mortals couldn’t see them but they could see the mortals. Jonouchi could understand why Dartz spent all his time in places like this. Mortal watching could be kind of fun at times. ���What spell does that demon have over Keket? She’s normally so smart.”

“Enough about her,” Honda said as he waved off the discussion. Jonouchi turned to him, a brow raised. “How is Shizuka? Isn’t she your responsibility?”

Shizuka was Jonouchi’s latest charge and she was more than a handful. And yet Jonouchi already viewed her as a little sister. “She’s got her own ideas on how to be an angel,” Jonouchi said with an annoyed look on his face. Mortals souls that became angels all seemed to think they had everything figured out. “Unfortunately, guiding her has proven difficult.”

“I imagine so,” Honda said. Honda had already dealt with his own charge a few thousand years ago. He had claimed it had been one of the easiest things to do and that it was so rewarding. It had been part of why Jonouchi had been so willing to take on a charge of his own. “Some mortals who pass have a relatively big head that they take from life into the next form. Why, do you have issues with her?”

Jonouchi shrugged. He knew he should report that Shizuka asked just a little too many questions but he couldn’t bring himself to. He wondered if he had once been mortal, he’d have the same outlook on forever that Shizuka had. Shizuka had been horrified to learn that this was how her afterlife was to be spent and had asked if there were other options. Jonouchi did not know. “No,” he said, squashing the guilt aside from lying to Honda. “There’s no problem.”

He wondered if Honda saw through it.

From the journal of Sumiko Kubota: December 2, 1922, Paris I think my sister is being entirely too difficult. Surely there’s plenty of reason to stick around this shop. And not simply because Duke is utterly fascinating…

Sumiko hadn’t planned on staying in Paris. But Duke fascinated her so much that she had to stay for just a little bit longer. Sure, Kazuko was annoyed the longer they stayed but for once, Sumiko didn’t care. She was learning a lot about the world that her sister stumbled into. Duke spent most of his time either running the store front or in the kitchen.

Today she found him in a new place, however. Sumiko wasn’t sure how to describe the room she’d found herself in. For a minute, anyway. It was like the room was coming into sharp view, as if it had been hidden from her. All the bookcases went right to the ceiling and there was an ornate wooden table in the center of the room. He was humming and Sumiko was struck by how pretty he looked. He seemed relaxed. He looked from the book he’d had open on a podium and grinned. “Why, Sumiko,” Duke said as he gestured towards the chairs around the table. “I see you’ve found the library.”

This was not like any library Sumiko had ever been in. There was this sense that she was not supposed to be in here. And yet Sumiko pressed forward into the room, focusing on Duke. “I didn’t know this place existed.”

“The more time you spend in the supernatural, the more you become in tune with it,” Duke said as he turned to pull a book off the shelf behind him. “Most mortals have an innate sense of magic but spend their whole lives unaware of it. I figured eventually I would see you here.”

“But I was able to see the shop,” Sumiko said as Duke placed the book in front of her. It was in a language she couldn’t read. It was possible it was in French but Sumiko thought the writing looked too different from the signs in the area to be the same language. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Yugi has it set up so people who have had a single strange encounter with the mystical can see the shop,” Duke explained as he took a seat next to Sumiko with a sly grin on his face. Again Sumiko was reminded of a predator who had found its next meal. “However, the shop is so much larger than any mortal who is just dipping their toes into the supernatural can possibly imagine.”

“That reminds me,” Sumiko said, hesitant to ask the one thing she’d been curious about. “Why do you spend all your time here in this shop? Surely a demon such as yourself must get bored of it.”

Duke looked annoyed briefly. “I made a bet with Yugi a few years ago that if I lost a game to him, I’d be friends with him,” Duke said as he leaned back in his chair. “So now here I am, having to honor my end of the bargain. I still don’t know how he managed to win.”

“Powerful demon turned friend by a guy at least a foot shorter than you,” Sumiko remarked, a brow arching up. “How does that happen?”

“Must we talk about it,” Duke said with roll of his eyes. “I’d rather focus on teaching you some of the finer workings of magic.”

“You’re going to teach me magic?” Sumiko narrowed her eyes. “Kaz always says that nothing comes for free. What do you want?”

“That’s how mortals operate,” Duke said, sounding rather dismissive. “I’m not a mortal. I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart.”

“Really?” Sumiko wasn’t sure she believed him. And yet, despite the fact it was a bad idea to make a deal with a demon, she found herself grinning. “I’ll trust you for now. But I’d be careful. My sister is mean and willing to go pretty far to protect me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting you, Sumiko Kubota,” Duke said and Sumiko felt strange realizing she believed him. Trusting a demon with her life seemed like the worst kind of mistake she could make. And yet, with those brilliant emerald like eyes that sparkled with promise, how could Duke be anything but an angel?

From the logs of Rafael, soldier of Destiny, keeper of Justice:1900s Master Dartz seems keenly aware that there is a growing problem with Keket. I am unsure if this is the correct solution, however. Yet I know that asking questions merely leads to more problems….

Rafael wanted to ask Keket if all this was worth it. He never thought she’d lose her mind over some demon. And yet she was. Three times now Keket had failed to kill the vampire. Dartz was pacing the length of the room and the anger radiating off him. “There has to be a way to deal with this,” Dartz muttered, clearly not expecting any answers from Rafael. Rafael glanced towards the multiple views of Earth. One of the views was fixated directly on Keket, who hadn’t moved from her house on Earth since the incident. “She has gotten far too attached to this vampire.”

“Surely we can take him out,” Rafael said, confused as to why Dartz simply wouldn’t just order him to deal with it. Rafael still owed Keket. She’d saved his life in that battle so many eons ago. He recalled how she’d moved with grace through that battlefield. “I can do it. I owe her one.”

“Yes, you do,” Dartz said with a side glance at Rafael. Instantly Rafael felt like he’d made a misstep. Dartz seemed to prize strength and many times, Rafael felt he came up short. Perhaps that was why he was itching to prove he was capable. “But would you even be capable of helping her? Perhaps you might need to start with a smaller target.”

And a file appeared out of nowhere, landing at Rafael’s feet. Rafael hesitated for a moment before picking it up. Instantly, he recognized the demon that Dartz was suggesting. “This is that vampire’s father,” Rafael said, almost stunned. The name had been what Rafael read first - Akhenamkhanen. It would be impossible to forget that name. “How is this a smaller target?”

“I thought you were strong,” Dartz remarked with a strange inflection in his tone. “But if you’re too weak for the task, I’m certain one of the other angels could take care of it.”

Rafael looked at the file again. A demon who was king of his realm, who had been alive for thousands of years. It was a task that even the best of angels would struggle with. He tried to imagine himself actually doing the act. “No,” Rafael said as he passed the file back. “I can do it.”

Still, the rumblings of regret were already starting to build in Rafael’s chest. Doubt coursed through him. But what choice did he have?

From the journals of Anzu Mazaki: Paris, December 23, 1922 Bakura arrived at the theater today. I had been unaware that he even knew where I worked. Curiously, however, I found myself not minding that he had shown up…

The candles were such a dim light to read by, Anzu thought absently. She held the script closer, trying to read the words on the page but not really absorbing them. Her mind was elsewhere. She was focused heavily on remembering the last time Bakura had come around. Her cheeks flushed as she remembered that his hands were sure and the smirk he’d worn. “Miss Gardner,” came a voice like silk from behind her. She glanced up into the mirror, already knowing that she wouldn’t see him reflected back at her. The shadows moved in the mirror, however, and this gave her an idea of where he was. “Shouldn’t you have memorized that already?”

“Maybe I should,” Anzu said, grinning as she turned to face Bakura. White paired so lovely with his skin tone, she thought to herself. She’d never say that out loud to him, though. He had a big enough ego as it was. Then again… “What’s it to you what I have memorized?”

“Why, Anzu,” Bakura said, sounding wounded as he reached out to cup her cheek. His finger rubbed along her lower lip and her lips parted slightly. “You know I deeply care about what goes on in your mundane mortal life.”

“Do you?” She liked the dangerous glint in his eye that he got every time she challenged him. She leaned forward, tilting her head up to give him a hint that she wanted him to kiss her. “Is this why you won’t tell me how to become a vampire? You’d miss my stories of my mortal life?”

“No,” Bakura admitted as he pulled Anzu into a standing position. He yanked her closer to him, his hand wrapped around her wrist. “But because it's a rather scary story.” His grin promised something dark and it thrilled Anzu to her very core. “Can you handle that?”

“I can handle just about anything you throw my way, darling,” she said, unsure where that came from. He was so close and his teeth were so near her neck. Near enough to take a bite out of her. “I want to know everything about you.”

His hand was under her jaw, a finger tracing out her jawline. He yanked her back to him and Anzu let out a soft gasp. Her head tilted, allowing him access. Her arm was pinned behind her back and yet she felt no fear. Being bound by him was thrilling. A veneer of having no choice and yet… Anzu would rather be in no other position. She knew he’d let go if she merely said one word - just one. “Do you?” Bakura asked, his lips pressing to her neck. “I would think you’d be done with talking by now.”

She was tempted to say that of course she was done with talking before reality sat back in. “You promised me a scary story,” Anzu said softly, doing her best to ignore how his strong hands felt so nice on her. “I want to know - how does one become a vampire?”

Bakura stilled. For a moment, Anzu wondered if he would leave her frustrated and in need of release. “It’s not pretty,” he finally said. “You mortals have such romantic notions. I’m trying to protect you, Anzu.”

He so rarely used her name. The last time he used it, he had been warning her that she should go find a mortal boy instead. She’d insisted then she didn’t care about the potential heartbreak they could face. He’d merely smiled and said it was on her own head if she got in that deep. “What if I don’t want to be protected?”

A heartbeat passed and he released her arm. She was almost disappointed until his hand was placed on her hip. His forehead pressed against her shoulder and he let out a weary sigh. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

“Fine,” he said and Anzu couldn’t pin down his tone. “I was turned thousands of years ago. It was a mistake, of course. Akhandin never meant to turn me. I was a poor thief who no one would miss. He stole me and my mother in the dead night from our village.” He sounded far away and Anzu felt a surge of affection. She tried to picture Bakura as human. Then she tried to picture what Bakura’s mother might look like. “The blood was drained from the bodies and stored in jars for later consumption.”

He spun her around, staring deep into her eyes. Anzu wondered if his eyes were always blood red like that. “So does that mean part of becoming a vampire involves being drained of blood?”

“Yes but there’s a particular order,” Bakura said with a sly smirk. “I fought back and got a bit of Akhandin. Turns out, because I got a bit of him… it was enough to start the change.” He leaned forward, a dangerous glint in his eyes. His teeth glinted somehow in the lowlight. “Can you guess what that bit of him it was?”

Anzu raised a brow. “You tell me,” she said, trying her best to not sound breathless. Already she had a hunch and was trying to picture the process. “I’ve just stumbled my way into the supernatural, remember?”

He took her hand in his and pressed a quick kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Blood, my dear,” he said, his tongue pressed against her skin. “I managed to bite him hard enough to take blood. And when that happened, why… him draining me of blood set the wheels of fate in motion. My heart ceased beating and when I awoke, I was filled with thirst.” There was now a manic glint in his eyes. “So thirsty… I drank all the jars he’d stored for later. He hadn’t been expecting to find me there. I fled.”

“What about your mother?” It was, on the surface, an innocent question. However, the pained look on his face told another story. Her stomach dropped. “Bakura?”

“I didn’t know at the time,” he said, as if looking for absolution from her. Anzu had never seen this look on Bakura’s face before. She’d seen so many ways to be looked at but this face… It was almost worshipful. Like a sinner pleading for mercy from a crucifix. “At the time… I was just… so thirsty, Anzu.” He was gripping her hand so tight. “I didn’t know he’d already drained her. And I didn’t… I was a coward.”

The pieces clicked together and Anzu stumbled back. She landed in her chair and he was kneeling before her, begging for her to understand. Of course she understood. “It’s not like you meant to,” she said, reaching out to cup his jaw. “Does that mean… when you’re turned…”

“It’s like an animal taking over you,” Bakura said, leaning against her touch. “The pain, too… It’s more than just a desire for blood. It destroys you. Can’t you see now? I want to spare you that pain, Anzu.”

From the journal of Prince Atem, domain of vampires: London, January 1st, 1923 I hate that angel. I wish she’d never entered my life. She’s ruined it forever.

The phone rang twice before Atem answered it. “Hey,” Atem answered as he examined his throat. He was surprised that there wasn’t even a scar. It was like nothing had happened. “This is Atem. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Atem, it’s Mahad,” came the voice from the other end of the line. Atem straightened up. Mahad typically didn’t call unless it was important. “Before you hang up, I promise that I’m not calling to drag you back to the palace.”

“You wound me, brother,” Atem said, distracted by the shattered pieces of mirror still all over the floor. He needed to take care of it but couldn’t bring himself to. He was obsessing. That angel had entered his home and attacked him violently. And he was obsessed, wondering why she’d done it. “I would never hang up on you.”

“You hung up on me last time I called,” Mahad pointed out, sounding weary already. Instantly Atem felt bad. The last time Mahad called, Atem was just a little too frustrated. He wouldn’t have hung up otherwise. “That’s not what I’m calling about though, young prince.”

“Are you trying to get me to hang up on you?”

“Not at all,” Mahad said and Atem could almost hear the smile in Mahad’s voice. “Merely showing respect, young prince.” A beat passed before he hesitantly continued, “However… something has come up that you need to know.”

“Need to know,” Atem remarked as he picked up the bloodied shard of mirror. She’d shoved it deep in his throat and attempted to hack him apart. He’d reacted by draining her blood mindlessly. And her blood had created a surge through him that he hadn’t known was possible. Was that not something he needed to know? “That reminds me, I have something I need to ask.”

“This is more important,” Mahad said and Atem noticed that he was trying too hard to sound gentle. There was no teasing, no ribbing. The last time Mahad had been this gentle, Atem found himself in mourning. He somehow knew what Mahad was going to say before he said it. “Your father is dead, young prince.”

And just like that, Atem’s entire world was tilted on its axis. “Father’s dead?”

[spicyswords-inc]

Journey To The Agarthan Cache - An FE3H pirates!au - Chapter One

I’ve been working on this epic for literally over a month now with the ever lovely @goldendeer-crescentmoon. It is entirely self-indulgent and includes both our OCs (who you’ll meet later in the story). I just love it so much that I wanted to share it. I hope y’all enjoy!

Mini-tag list: @heyy-ahriii, @fantastiqueparfait, @claudemblems, @eelkonig

Felix landed with a small hup as he jumped over the property’s fence with practiced ease. He could distantly hear the voices of his friends, Sylvain and Ingrid, calling for him. But he didn’t care. He’d finally had enough.

Looking over his shoulder and then around him to make sure he was in the clear, Felix swiftly dusted himself off before running towards the street. The scene from earlier that day kept on replaying in his mind.

“Felix, my son.”

The young man in question heard the voice of his father behind him but chose to ignore him. Gripping the hilt of his sword tighter in his hand, he glared at the training dummy in front of him before rushing forward and striking it with a flurry of attacks.

“Felix,” Rodrigue tried again, his voice holding a bit more edge. 

Felix released a heavy sigh and looked over his shoulder towards his father. “Can’t you see that I’m busy, old man?”

“This conversation will only take a moment, provided you actually comply and listen to what I have to say,” Rodrigue mused as he gestured towards one of the steps jutting above the manor’s training ground. “Sit with me, won’t you?”

“Why? Can’t whatever needs to be discussed be done from where both you and I stand?”

Rodrigue sighed while bringing a hand to rest against his temple. “I suppose.” The older man cleared his throat. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve been… repeatedly absent from your lessons in etiquette, the history of Faerghus, political affairs… I’m sure I could go on and on.”

“What’s your point?” Felix asked pointedly, his hand draped over the handle of his sword. 

“My point, son, is that there’s a reason you have to partake in those lessons. It’s so that you can carry on-”

“‘-the Fraldarius family legacy and rise to the title of Duke so that, should the time ever come, I can aid his majesty.’” Felix prattled on, interrupting his father while he rattled off the words with an air of annoyance. “Did I miss anything?”

“Just one,” Rodrigue pointed out matter-of-factly. “You also need to be able to impress any potential suitors so that the Crest of Fraldarius lives on.” 

“I have neither time nor interest for suitors.”

“Then make some.”

“Why?” Felix shot back immediately. He finally looked his father in the eyes with a similar copper-hued gaze.

“For the sake of our legacy-”

“For the sake of your legacy,” Felix interrupted. 

“Are you not a Fraldarius?” Rodrigue exclaimed, his anger rising. 

“I’m me!” Felix yelled, pointing a thumb towards himself. “I’m more than just an heir to a ‘legacy’ that I neither had a choice or interest in.”

Rodrigue stared at his son. His eyebrows were set in a scowl while his fists were clenched at his sides. He was just about to speak his mind until a familiar red-head and blonde walked through the doors to the Fraldarius sparring grounds. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Felix,” Sylvain said as he raised a hand in greeting. He sent his friend a wink and a content smirk until he noticed the older Fraldarius at the other side of the space. 

“Lord Rodrigue!” Sylvain exclaimed, immediately sending a short bow the noble’s ways. “I didn’t see you there.” An uncomfortable silence settled atop the grounds. “...We’re not interrupting anything are we?”

“Not at all,” Felix responded plainly. He sent a pointed glare towards his father before walking towards his two friends. “Are you ready for training or what?”

Both Ingrid and Sylvain glanced nervously between both Fraldarius men. “If you guys need a moment, please don’t pause on our account-”

“No, no, we were just about finished,” Rodrigue said, cutting Ingrid off. “Just think on what I said, son. One way or another you will do what’s expected of you as the heir to the Fraldarius Dukedom.”

“What about what I want,” Felix angrily muttered to himself as he distanced himself from the estate. Ever since they’d lost his older brother, Glenn, his father had come down harder and harder on him to “fulfill his role” and “maintain the Fraldarius legacy”. He grit his teeth and quickened his pace the more he thought about it. 

There were things he wanted to do before being tied down with all of those expectations. For starters, he wanted to see all of Fodlan. He didn’t care how he went about doing so; he’d settle for being a wandering swordsman or lowly cabin boy aboard a nasty pirate ship if it meant he got to actually be out in the world and experience it.

Soft moonlight gleamed against the small, detailed golden stitches of Felix’s navy blue waistcoat as he followed the road that led into town. He’d snuck out so many times, especially when he was younger, that he could probably make his way to the square with his eyes closed. Quick images of impromptu outings with his brother flashed in his mind. Felix quickened his pace and shook his head to dispel the thoughts. 

‘You should be here to carry on the legacy. Not me.’

As soon as Felix reached the square, he let his legs carry him towards where he always went when he was upset: the tavern. Stepping through the large doorway leading inside, Felix sighed heavily as the sounds of the tavern surrounded him as he entered: glasses clinking, hearty conversation, and jovial laughter galore. Expertly weaving himself around the usual patrons, crowd, and staff with practiced ease, the young noble made his way to the bar and raised a hand half-committedly to get the bartender’s attention. 

“Ah, if it isn’t the young, posh noble,” the bartender teased, reveling in the scowl Felix sent his way. “What can I do ya for tonight, lad?”

“You know what I want,” Felix huffed before averting his gaze. While the bartender got to preparing his drink--a pint of ale and not a drop more--Felix held his head in his hands. 

He was tired of being told what he could and couldn’t do. He hadn’t asked to be born a noble’s son, yet here he was still stuck with the obligations and responsibilities that come with the position. The whole situation was just damn frustrating. Felix not only wanted to see the world; he wanted to live life the way he wanted. There was more to Fodlan and life than just the Fraldarius estate. 

The clink of glass atop hardwood brought Felix’s attention back to the bartender, who was sending him an almost sympathetic smile. 

“Did yer father chew you out again?”

Felix took a sip of his ale and let the refreshing liquid wash down his throat before responding. “What’s it to you?”

“Well, you only ever come in here when yer sulking.”

Felix slammed his glass atop the counter in frustration. “I-I do not!” Though his words said one thing, the slight dust of pink on his cheeks said another. The bartender did his best to hold in a laugh before inquiring again. 

“Alright then. If you’re not here to sulk, why are you here?”

“Does it really matter to you? Shouldn’t you just be happy you’re getting my money?” All it took was a cocked eyebrow from the bartender whilst he cleaned an empty glass for Felix to finally spill the beans. “Alright, fine. Yes, the old man yelled at me.” Felix took another sip of his drink. “Gave me a whole damn lecture on how it’s my responsibility to ‘uphold the Fraldarius legacy’.” Felix said almost mockingly. “But that’s not what I want to do.”

“And why’s that?”

Felix blinked incredulously at the man before darting his gaze towards the counter. When he didn’t offer a reply, the bartender sighed and turned towards the other end of the bar.

“I’m just sayin’ that you’ve got it better than most, son.” The bartender mentioned almost somberly. He gingerly set the glass he was cleaning atop the counter before continuing. “Besides, I’m sure your father just wants what’s best for you.”

“What makes you say that?” 

The bartender smiled softly. “Because all parents want what’s best for their children.”

Felix chugged the remainder of his ale before slamming his glass against the counter a second time. “Whatever.” Fishing a copper piece from his pocket, he flicked it towards the bartender before forcefully shoving his stool against the bar. As soon as he turned around, he collided into someone behind him. 

“O-Oh, I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you at all?”

Felix shot a glare towards the person he ran into but immediately softened it when he got a full look at her appearance. Standing before him was a small young woman who couldn’t have been older than he was. She wore a simple, pale dark-green blouse with flowing ¾ sleeves tied tightly in the middle with string and a layered, dark grey skirt with a brown half-overskirt. Coupled with simple ankle high boots and black knee-length stockings, she looked like the last person you’d expect to see in a place like this.

Felix merely scoffed before shoving past her. “Just watch where you’re going next time.” 

“Right! Sorry again!” the girl exclaimed before sending a small bow his way. 

Felix couldn’t help but find himself confused and intrigued by the out-of-place looking girl. He frequented the bar enough to know that she wasn’t a regular. And compared to the personage he was used to dealing with, he didn’t peg her as the type to hit up bars much to begin with. Allowing himself the slightest of smirks, Felix made his way towards the entrance of the tavern and turned to watch as the girl talked with the bartender. While he had no idea what they were talking about, he surmised that whatever it was involved the bartender having to go out of his way to get something for her, if her continual bows of apology meant anything. 

“There’s no way she’s asking for a drink. She’s so small that the minute the drink hit her system she’d be passed out on the floor,” Felix muttered to himself, stopping midstep. Yet, to his surprise, the bartender came back with several clear vials filled with what Felix assumed was alcohol. He had to hold in a chuckle as the girl sent the bartender one more bow and nearly dropped all of the vials she’d just received. 

“Are you just going to stand there and gawk?”

Felix slowly shifted his gaze towards the voice speaking to him while a hand came to rest atop the hilt of his sword. “So what if I am?”

The man staring down at him was the exact image of snootiness in Felix’s mind; donning a purple overcoat, gaudy white dress shirt with billowy sleeves, black trousers, and very tall boots was a man with a horrendous, dark purple bowl-cut and look of disgust. “I’ll have you know that it’s quite rude to stare and block entryways, young man.” The individual gave him a onceover. “I figured you’d be a noble with the way you’re dressed, but with such horrible manners perhaps I was mistaken.”

Felix could swear he felt a vein rise in his forehead. Adjusting his grip around the sword he always kept at his side, he was just about to draw it and teach the jerk some manners until a familiar sounding voice joined the fray. 

“Ah, Lorenz! Here you are,” the young woman greeted as she made her way towards them. “Thanks so much for waiting for me,” she added with a smile before locking eyes with Felix for just a second. 

“Not a problem. Let’s get going, though. I can’t say I’m too fond of the company here in this tavern.” Before Felix could do much else, the pretentious looking fellow -- whom he assumed was Lorenz going off what the girl’d said -- firmly but gently pushed the girl forward and out of the tavern. Felix continued to stare before sheathing what little of his sword he’d drawn back into its scabbard. 

Felix glared at the absurd looking couple walking away before rubbing the back of his neck harshly in irritation. “Damn bastard. Maybe someone should teach him a bit of manners,” he mused before looking up to glance at the quickly departing couple. 

‘Besides, I want to find out why a girl like her would hang around a guy like him.’ 

With that resolution made, Felix waited a while longer before following behind them in quiet pursuit.

[mobius-prime]

58. Special - Sonic and Knuckles Mecha Madness

Previous / Table of Contents / Next

Mecha Madness

Writer: Michael Gallagher Pencils: Pat Spaziante Colors: Kyle Hunter

Oh boy, time to see what "Operation Last Resort" is! Turns out, it involves a portable roboticizer - the same one, in fact, that partially roboticized Bunnie all the way back in StH#3. Apparently they actually took it with them when they rescued Bunnie, and Sally's been having Rotor fix it up this whole time in case of such an emergency. It even has a built-in neuro-overrider to let the person inside keep… their… okay, hang on. I'm calling BS. You're telling me that this entire time they've had a portable roboticizer which functions normally, lets the person keep their mind, and as revealed later in the issue even comes with a reverse function that can deroboticize any 'bot that it's created? Can you say plot holes? First of all, since this is Bunnie's roboticizer, it should be the simplest matter ever to stick her in it and give her her organic body back. I guess you could fudge around and say, well, there's too many risks since her process was interrupted and whatnot, but the other problem comes with the fact that two different issues now have had this same drama about someone being roboticized and not having kept their normal mind. How different would literally the last issue have gone if Sally, in response to Sonic's request, had said "Well sure Sonic, we have a nearly-risk-free option right here in Knothole Village. With your consent we'll throw you in it and have Robotnik defeated and in prison by lunchtime"? There would be absolutely no risk of him losing his mind and becoming a slave of Robotnik's! Sure it would come with physical risks, but since when has Sonic ever balked at a risk of death or injury before?

Man, the only way we'll be able to get through this issue is if we just pretend there's no plot holes, so I'll stop my yapping and move on. Knuckles comes to, and after deliriously trying to punch several of the Freedom Fighters present Sally kicks him in the back, which makes him recognize her, because I guess she's the only one who's ever kicked him in the back like that. Healthy relationship, guys! They get a bit gaga over each other for a little while, reminiscing on their past together - apparently Sally's father used to vacation on the Floating Island when Knuckles' father was still guardian and before Robotnik's takeover. Really, this issue makes it seem like they have a residual crush on each other, with Sally in particular still being affected by it. Man, Sally, how many crushes can you have at once? I still insist she's polyamorous. Things would be so much easier for her if she could just date multiple people at once. After a bit more discussion, Sally tells him the plan, and apparently Knuckles just cannot wait to scoot his booty into the 'botmaker and get roboticized.

Everyone actually acts quite terrified by using this option, with Rotor even questioning Sally if this makes them "no better than Robotnik." While it's played for laughs with Sally's response of "Et tu, Rotor?" honestly all this makes me think is that these literal kids (none of them is over 18 at this point) are definitely traumatized by all the crap they've gone through in this war. For basically their entire lives, getting roboticized has been synonymous with psychological warfare and death, with only a handful of examples otherwise (such as Uncle Chuck and the people he rescued a few issues ago, but even then that's an incredibly recent occurrence). It's clear they're having a hard time getting over this association in their minds, apart from Sally, who's the pragmatist of the group, and Knuckles, who… well, has spent most of his time away from the war anyway, and thus doesn't have the same fear.

As all this is going on, Tails is the last to evacuate Knothole himself while Mecha Sonic lays waste to all its buildings, and as such is spotted and targeted. He tries to fly away to safety, but it's hopeless. He's still within reach of Mecha Sonic's blasters, and Mecha Sonic locks on… and…

…hesitates! Sonic, you still in there buddy? He seems to be fighting back somehow, even though Robotnik's apparently upgraded his roboticizers since Sally's old attempts to thwart them. Not a problem for Robotnik though, since he has nuclear bombs, apparently! Jeez, man, he's really serious about taking these guys out for good. After a little while, Mecha Knuckles emerges from the roboticizer, and engages Mecha Sonic in battle, conveniently right before Mecha Sonic can tell Robotnik the coordinates of Knothole. They duke it out midair for a little while, until Mecha Sonic eventually hits Mecha Knuckles hard enough to knock him back straight toward Robotropolis, on a direct course for wherever Robotnik stores his nuclear warheads. Mecha Knuckles, determined to take out Mecha Sonic no matter what, grabs him with a magnetic pull, and together, they hit the stockpile.

Oh, boy.

Everyone back home is in tears. Certainly, as confirmed by Nicole, there's no way they could have survived a nuclear blast like that, not even with upgraded robotic bodies. Sally has to take a few moments away from the group to hide her tears. It's pretty damn bleak.

So, turns out that the blast just straight up ripped a hole in the middle of Robotnik's city, vaporizing basically every building in its path and irradiating the crater. This is some serious damage. No mention of the fact that this probably just killed untold numbers of roboticized Mobians who were stuck inside that section of the city, however, because Robotnik then emerges from an underground shelter, straight into the radiation - how messed up is this guy, dude? He drinks motor oil like it's a nice glass of wine, never exercises, and already lives in a city made out of pollution, and now he can just walk right out into the site of a nuclear bomb explosion with no issue? Anyway, he then happens to find Mecha Sonic's mangled body, somehow still barely alive, though heavily malfunctioning. Oh, and Mecha Knuckles is alive, too, so Robotnik gets punched in the head.

Mecha Knuckles isn't doing so hot, but incredibly, he recounts how just before the impact Mecha Sonic switched their places so he would take most of the brunt of the blast instead. Mecha Knuckles heads back to the Freedom Fighters with Mecha Sonic in tow, to Sally's immense relief, and they get ready to deroboticize Knuckles.

Aww, poor Sonic. Literally, he thinks he doesn't deserve to be saved after what he did, despite it not even being his fault. That's some seriously heavy stuff for a fifteen year old, man. Of course, Sally isn't about to take that. Nicole is able to run some tests and confirm that somehow, back when Sonic collected his one billionth ring and went on that crazy drug trip with the Ancient Walkers, it gave him a magical protection around his "life force," which allowed him to keep some of his personality even while roboticized. I don't know how the hell all that is supposed to work, but essentially, she's certain she'll be able to use that life force protection to deroboticize him even without the help of any machinery, since all of Rotor's equipment was destroyed in the attack on Knothole.

Miraculously, it works, and after a few moments, Sonic is back to normal, although suffering from one hell of a migraine and unable to remember anything from his time as Mecha Sonic. At first everyone is quite happy to have him back, but then he sasses Knuckles right out of the roboticizer, who glides away in a huff, and from there things start to turn sour.

Yeah, you didn't think everyone forgot about his supposed disobedience of a direct order, did you? He's handcuffed and marched away in preparation for a court-martial, as he's now suspected of treason! Remember, from Sonic's point of view, this is all he remembers: got denied his proposition, walked away and passed out, woke up in very brief agony before everything going blank, and then woke up again on the floor with a migraine. He has no idea what has even happened these past two issues, and now he's suddenly being dragged away in cuffs. Can you imagine? This poor guy.

Don't Let the Island Hit You on the Way Down!

Writer: Kent Taylor Pencils: Harvey Mercadoocasio Colors: Kyle Hunter

Well, we couldn't have an epic issue like this without a couple of silly "nothing" stories following it, so time to see what the Chaotix were doing while Knuckles was away being a robot and everything. Turns out they're under attack from the "Fearsome Foursome," a random group of Mobians who are apparently just interested in kicking some ass. The Chaotix get slapped around for a little while before regrouping and fighting back.

It goes on for a weirdly long amount of time considering nothing even happens in this story until like, six pages in. All they do is punch each other around. Suddenly, a mysterious figure emerges onto the scene: Mammoth Mogul, a gigantic mammoth with delusions of grandeur. Apparently, he was actually born in prehistoric times, but a chance encounter with a Chaos Emerald granted him mysterious powers and immortality, and as such he declared himself ruler of Mobius while sitting on a throne wearing a loincloth that leaves almost nothing to the imagination. People eventually couldn't take his manspreading on the throne any longer and ousted him as their leader, and so he just bided his time for millennia until the modern day, where he assembled this really weird ragtag team and is now intending to take the Floating Island's Chaos Emerald for his own, since apparently there are absolutely no other Chaos Emeralds for him to choose from on the planet right now.

The Chaotix respond by punching him in the face in unison, and he immediately retreats, insisting he'll be back at a better time. He literally just jumps into a hovercar straight out of the punch and zooms away at top speed while essentially doing the stereotypical villain thing of shaking his fist and yelling "I'll be back, mark my words!" C'mon, man, you're apparently this immortal god-being from prehistoric times and four random dudes slapping you is enough to drive you back? What a wuss.

Eel of Fortune

Writer: Michael Gallagher Pencils: Dave Manak Colors: Kyle Hunter

This story pretty much only exists because Michael has overestimated how much people might care about the Forty Fathoms Freedom Fighters. P.B. Jellyfish encounters Octobot swimming at top speed and tries to stop and fight him, but turns out Octobot, no longer a big bad boss of the ocean, is himself running away from someone even more terrifying - Eel Capone! Yeah, this guy is basically just a big mob boss joke, even getting his own "hired mussel" (geddit? geddit?) to beat the crap out of P.B. His other friends in the F.F.F.F. find him unconscious, and Bottlenose decides to take things into his own hands by beating up Eel Capone in ninja getup, while simultaneously murdering all his lackeys! Wait, what?!

That is cold-blooded, man! No one even makes mention of the fact that Bottlenose just brutally killed like, a hundred sentient beings. They just drag Eel Capone off to "Aquatraz," and then sing a silly, pun-filled song about the battle. Guys, I can't stress this enough, but your friend is now a literal murderer. Just because he was dressed in a ninja disguise while he was doing the murdering doesn't make him any less of a killer. These weren't even roboticized mussels or anything, they were literally just some living individuals who made bad life decisions. What kind of a Freedom Fighter keeps the head honcho alive but murders all the lackeys who were just following orders? Jesus christ.

[vosh-rakh]

a window, open and closed

chapter 2 

(chapter 1)

cw: implied nsfw, nothing explicit

note: i don’t even know what the state of tense is in this, and i don’t care at this point lol

- - - - -

“...So.”

Hla-eix had already rolled over away from Daabush, her eyes contemplating the window. “So...what?”

“You said we would talk.”

Dammit, he remembered. She closes her eyes. “Did I?”

A hand grabs her shoulder and rolls her onto her back, but she keeps her head turned away from him. “No,” Daabush says. “Not again. You agreed to this. Stop trying to run away.”

“It’s all I’m good for. Running away.” She bites the inside of her lip, wishing she hadn’t said anything.

Daabush reaches over her, his rough hand gentle on her chin, pulling her around to face him. He’s so intense, the way he stares at her - into her. She always tries to avoid eye contact, but if she ever finds it, that intensity holds her completely still. No more running away. 

He caresses her cheek, his thumb running over the thin, delicate scales there. “I just want to get to know you, Eix.”

“Sorry,” she says, her eyes managing to step aside for just a moment to breathe. “I don’t know what to tell you. Where to start.”

Daabush purses his lips around his tusks. “Fine,” he says. “Okay. I’ll start, then. I grew up in a stronghold, out east, in the Velothi. What about you?”

“Uh.” This was going to be hard to explain. She always hates having to. But maybe if she can just get it over with… “I grew up in two places. Some in Morrowind, some in Black Marsh. Few years with my moms near the border. About ten years in Morrowind. Few years after the Red Year, I got taken in by the An-Xileel. Then -”

Daabush stretches his thumb over to cover her lips. “Sorry, hold on,” he says. “The Red Year?”

She bites his thumb. “I told you I was old.”

“Ow! Okay.” He props himself up on one elbow. “Also, what’s the An-Xileel?”

“Uh. Government of Black Marsh?”

“Is that common knowledge?”

“It’s not a secret.”

“I’ve only ever lived in Skyrim.”

“I guess you wouldn’t know then.”

“Anyways. Why’d they take you in?”

“Well. My mother was a dunmer. Ashlander. Mabrigash, to be specific. Like a witch, I guess. I lived with her and her coven for a long time.” Hla-eix looks up at the ceiling. She’s always thought about these things. She just needed a push - and some trust - but once she got going, she had plenty to say. “But the An-Xileel pushed north after the Red Year, to take back lands stolen by the dunmer long ago. We lived in those lands. So they killed the mabrigash except for me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, but…okay. They didn’t kill you? Why?”

Here’s the hard part, the one she’d been avoiding. “Well. You know what I look like. I had two mothers, an argonian and a dunmer. They found a way to have a child of their own with magic. When the soldiers found me, they thought I was … a cruel experiment of witches, I guess. Another awful thing the elves had done to our people.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

“Couldn’t. I don’t know why. But I didn’t speak for a couple years after that. So I just let them assume what they wanted.”

“Okay. So -”

Hla-eix covers his mouth with her hand. “Nope. Your turn again.”

He swats her arm away. “Ugh. Fine.”

“Why’d you leave the stronghold?”

“Well. Hm. You know the Great Houses of Morrowind, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there was a wave of Hlaalu emigrants almost ten years ago. Bunch of folks nobody wanted no more, on account of being so close to the Empire. Got especially bad after the Red Year.”

“Wait. You said you were born in a stronghold.”

“I did. Hold your tongue for a minute. I’m not Hlaalu.” His eyes glaze with thought for a moment. “Well. I might actually be, technically. That’s...well, who gives a shit.” He shakes his head and looks back at Hla-eix. “Where was I? Before you rudely butted in.”

“Hlaalu emigrants.”

“Oh. Well, they passed through the Velothi near our stronghold on their way to Skyrim. We let them camp nearby, gave them some supplies. Hlaalu’s always been the House that hated us least. There was…” He pauses, bites his lip. “...a person who, uh. Became important to me. But before I could get...their...name, the caravan left.”

“Daa.” Hla-eix playfully bonks him on the head. “My parents were both women. You don’t have to play the pronoun game.”

He sighs, and she notices that some tension leaves his body. He closes his eyes. “Okay. So … Well, I decided to leave the stronghold to follow them, so I could talk to him again.”

“You didn’t mind leaving your kin behind to follow this Hlaalu mer?”

Daabush’s eyes shoot open. “That’s...Actually. It’s your turn. Why’d you leave Black Marsh?” 

“...Occupational reasons.”

“A trader? Adventurer? Mercenary?”

“...Sure.”

Daabush furrows his brows pointedly but doesn’t push it. “But you didn’t mind leaving your kin behind to follow your occupation.”

Hla-eix cocks an eyebrow. “So your elf crush was just a job to you?”

“That’s…!” He stiffens his posture and raises his voice. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. I was just … ugh.”

“I was forty-four when I left for the first time since arriving,” Hla-eix says. “To me, that’s nothing. But to orcs I’m sure that age is meaningful. What I’m saying is that it wasn’t easy to leave.” She wiggles and fiddles with her fingers idly. “I’m sure you can imagine … what it was like for me. To be among normal-looking argonians. To constantly have to prove yourself worthy. That you’re one of them. That you’re loyal to them, and not the dark elves.”

“...Yeah. I get it.”

She snaps out of her anxious spell and sits up straight, crossing her legs. “Tell me more about the Hlaalu boy.” 

Daabush gently runs his fingers along Hla-eix’s exposed and heavily scaled back. “...His name was Sevren. Member of the Dren family, he said.” Hla-eix raises a confused eyebrow. “As in, Vedam Dren.” She pulls back a corner of her mouth and shakes her head. “Was the Duke of Ebonheart. Whatever. Important guy.”

“...So what happened? Did you talk to him? Were you...involved?”

Daabush’s eyes close shut, then open again, but they were in a different place and time. “Yes. We were in love. He left his family to be with me.” He shakes his head back and forth slightly. “Not easy, two men, orc and elf, in Skyrim, you know. He was used to city life. But it wasn’t really an option. We joined a band of poachers in Eastmarch. They didn’t mind, long as we pulled our weight and didn’t get nobody caught. They were skeptical about Sev at first. But we managed. It was cold, but there was warmth there, with Sev, and the others. Like family.”

He shakes his head more forcibly to clear it and sits up, matching Hla-eix’s posture. “What about you? What’s your history with love like?” 

She looks away towards the window. “...I lied.”

“What?”

“I, uh. You’re my first.”

Daabush places a firm hand on her thigh. “...No. Doesn’t make sense. You’re too experienced. You’ve had others.”

She stands and walks towards the window. “No. When you’re like me, you have to pay them. And only if they’re desperate.” She opens it and leans into the biting cold.

Hla-eix doesn’t hear anything except for the heavy silence of Solitude late at night. It is a quiet hour, even the loud drunkards fled to bed. No early morning exercises clanging metal at the castle; no music wafting from the college; no weeping at the cemetery; no prayers at the temple. There is the faint whisper of winter wind, the delicate sound of snow shifting, the crisp crackling of street torches, and the cacophony of thoughts roaring in her head.

Then there is a massive warmth pressed against her back, wrapping around her. “Then I’m not your first,” Daabush says, slowly turning her to face him.

First she sees his chest, heavily scarred grey-green flesh built like a bear. Then she looks up into his eyes, this time without being forced by them. “You’re the first that mattered.”

He pulls her into a deep kiss, their first real kiss despite all their rutting, and his first in years. In his arms, she is warm despite the cold outside.

When they finally pull away from each other, he reaches over to close the window. Hla-eix buries her face in his chest, listening to his heavy heartbeat, entranced. But he hesitates, and distantly she registers the sound of a door slamming open downstairs. 

“Shit.”

[alice-allabout]

The Coltell & Byknov Family Histories.

“He was her dark fairy tale and she was his twisted fantasy and together they made magic.”

The Byknov Family -

The Byknov family have ties all the way back to the Romanov dynasty of Russia. The product of a secret love child from Grand Duke Kirill Vladimirovich of Russia, born in 1900, Antony Byknov was born in the slums of St. Petersburg with his mother being in his only caregiver, though she could be hardly called such a thing. His mother regularly had her gentlemen callers visit their small, one-bedroom apartment and Antony was forced to play in the streets while his mother earned their living.

It was on these streets of the slums that Antony became involved in various nefarious activities, it was there that he began dealing illicit substances and selling alcohol at the age of twelves, him and a few of the other neighbourhood boys making something of a lucrative business for themselves. It didn’t take long for Antony to catch the eye of a local gang leader who took the young male under his wing, showing him the way of the street and helping him move up the ranks of the Bratva until he was one of the leaders right-hand man by the time he was eighteen years old.

The leader of the Bratva only had two daughters to his name and they surely couldn’t take over the family business so it was the next move of Antony marrying the eldest daughter and getting ready to take over as the leader of the Bratva as the leaders ailing health was beginning to fail him. Everyone knew that Antony was a ruthless man- never afraid to get his hands bloody or take what he believed was rightfully his, he walked the streets of St. Petersburg with people bowing to him in respect and fear.

Antony and his wife had three children- one girl and two boys. No longer were they living in the slums of St. Petersburg but a lush almost palace-like structure just on the outskirts of the Russian city. Antony was no longer the starving boy from the slums but a self-made man who had the respect of everyone around him.

Being there only one son from his marriage; Aleksei Byknov, despite being the youngest born in 1940, was raised to take over his father’s legacy. When Antony passed away in 1970, Aleksei took over as the leader of the Bratva, who seemed even more powerful during the Soviet Union of Russia, they ran all the backdoor businesses, keeping the repressed people happy while appearing upstanding members of society. Aleksei marrying a local girl, someone who was not apart of the business but quickly adjusted.

They married in 1968 and had two children, both girls. Galina and Katarina Byknov, though Galina seemed to turn away from the violence she was born into, Katarina embraced it wholly, though she knew that her father would never allow her to take over the family business so it was only natural that she would find someone who could help her run the Russian empire her Grandfather had built for himself from the slums of St. Petersburg.

Byknov Family Facts:

It is believed that the Byknov family and the Bratva had been responsible for over 3,000 deaths and disappearances since Antony took over in 1918.

Both Galina and Katarina live elsewhere in Europe. Katarina living in France with her husband while her daughter studies over in the states and Galina’s whereabouts are unknown.

Despite mainly remaining in the shadows, it is believed the Byknov family are one of the most powerful names in the European underworld.

It is unknown who the current leader of the Bratva is as the Byknov family died out with Aleksei.

They Byknov family made their amass fortune by selling drugs, firearms, hits and protection.

The Coltell Family-

The Coltell family truly began in the slums of Paris in 1930 with 20 year old, Absalon Coltell who worked as a doorman for a prestigious apartment building in order to provide for his sickly mother. A sturdily built man and someone who was known to talk with his fists, it was no shock when he was hired as protection for some of the most notorious crime families in Paris. He was paid more handsomely than most doormen mainly because he knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to use his fist to do the talking.

It was while working as a doorman that he caught the eye of a 15-year-old daughter from a famous Spanish crime family, she appreciated the mans good looks but how also his demeanour changed whenever she approached him. Though her father was reluctant to allow them to begin courting, he trusted Absalon to look after his daughter and he knew the young man could be trusted to take their family secrets to the grave. They were married the following spring and it wasn’t long before she was pregnant.

Though Absalon and his young wife weren’t heavily involved in the family, instead choosing to reside in a small village just outside of Paris where they raised their family of six. Absalon owning and managing a restaurant and his wife staying at home to look after their four children. They were comfortable thanks to her father and everyone knew of the connections the quiet family had to some of the most powerful crime families in Europe.

The Coltell family history remains quiet for the next forty years with the family still remaining in the quiet, comfortable village just outside of Paris. It was to Absalon’s eldest son, Christein that Gerald Coltell was born- the one who would bring the Coletell name to the forefront of the underworld once again.

Gerald always showed a violent side, even as a young boy, often picking fights with local boys and even going as far to push the girls over if they got in his way. He was violent, prone to his temper and cataclysmic but he showed a talent for working on cars, he could fix up any car that was placed in front of him. Dropping out of school at 15 and opting to start his own mechanic business, it didn’t take long for his business to flourish.

Moving back to Paris in 1992 when he was eighteen, Gerald opened his own company and began building his own cars. It didn’t take long for Gerald to get involved with nefarious people mainly due to his Grandmother’s connections; helping him to build up his automobile company and use it as a cover for the firearms and drugs transport that began taking place. It was two years later that Katarina Byknov walked through the doors of his company with her father, announcing that Katarina and Gerald would be married in order to bring together many of the families that were now using Gerald’s company as a front.

The Byknovw-Coltell family merger-

Married in later 1994- Gerald and Katarina Coltell moved to a large, renovated mansion just on the outskirts of Paris. It wasn’t even a month into the marriage that Katarina announced she was pregnant, it was six months later that their only daughter, Alice Galina Coltell was born.

Though to most it appeared that Gerald was merely a self-made man who managed to make billions from his automobile company and his wife coming from a wealthy, old Russian family, there were always the rumors that both were strongly connected to the European underworld and that Gerald’s automobile business was merely a front for the transportation of all things illegal for some of the most powerful families in Europe.

Though both Katarina and Gerald vehemently deny any of these allegations, insisting they are merely a quiet family trying their best to provide for their only daughter, Alice Coltell, who is currently studying abroad in the states.

Coltell family facts-

Geral Coltell is now rumoured to be worth over 3 billion dollars.

Their daughter Alice is currently engaged to a famous Spanish family.

Though it has never been confirmed, it is believed Gerald Coltell has killed over ten people.

Their daughter Alice is studying Public Relations at University and is expected to take over her father’s business when she is older.

They own summer homes in Spain, Greece, Russia and the USA.

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Hoping for Home~ Ch. 3- Coming Home

Summary: Sixteen years ago Libby Scott was supposed to become Queen of Cordonia, but Fate had other plans. Catch up here (ya know ya wanna).

Song for this chapter: “Coming Home” by Gwyneth Paltrow

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me

Tags: @fullbeaumonty @speedyoperarascalparty @cocomaxley @leelee10898 @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @choiceswreckedme @indiacater @noey718-blog @carabeth @daniv2278 @cosigottahavefaith  @gibbles82  @innerpostmentality @blackcoffee85 @perfectprofessorherokid  @darley1101 @jovialyouthmusic @liamxs-world @thequeenofcronuts @blznbaby @stopforamoment @zilch3382 @wannabemc2 @jlouise88

   Two days had passed since Libby's impromptu dinner with Drake, and they had been some of the hardest of her life. There had been so much talking. She talked with the twins about her past answering any and all questions they had.

   Will hadn't had many, except he wanted to know the names of his potential fathers. Libby had found him asleep at his computer desk later, articles about Maxwell and Liam and anything Cordonia-related splashed across his screen.

  Emma had been much more receptive, hungrily taking in the story of how she and her brother had come to be. “It sounds like a fairy tale. King's and assassins and, Mom, you're a Duchess! It's so exciting.” Emma had mused, and Libby didn't have the heart to tell her life in Cordonia was anything but a fairy tale.

    Drake and McKenzie had been back to her house on both days. She and Drake had talked about any and everything under the sun that didn't involve their shared past.  She complained about the harder parts of business ownership and he'd told her all about working on his mother's family ranch.

    Last night he'd come bearing a bottle of single malt whiskey and the throbbing in her head reminded her that they had indeed finished it.  

  As she made her way into the living room, headed for the kitchen, she found the pull out couch she'd made up for Mack and Drake had been put away. The linens and pillows we're folded and neatly stacked on the armchair and McKenzie smiled from her seat on the couch watching TV.

    Libby followed the smell of fresh brewed coffee and pancakes to find Drake over the stove wearing her brown and tan fox apron as he scrambled some eggs.

   “Who are you?” She asked him.

   He wiped his hands on the apron and poured her a cup of coffee which she accepted, walking past him to the fridge in search of cream.

    “It's me and Mack's last day here, so I wanted to thank you for sharing your home with us the past couple of days.” He said simply.

   Libby swiped a piece of bacon from the stack next to the stove when something caught her eye on the fridge. A cheap magnetic “grocery list” pad hung on the door and she noticed Drake had scrawled 'eggs, bacon, orange juice’ at the top. At the bottom he'd written three phone numbers. He noticed her confusion so he piped up, “The top one is mine. Then Liam's. Maxwell's is at the bottom. Just in case.”

    After breakfast Libby tore off the page that hung on the fridge. Drake refused to let her help him and Mack wash the dishes so she excused herself, taking her coffee with her to sit on the back porch.

     Her hands flew over her phone as she punched in the last number on the paper. It rang twice and then there was an answer.

    “Yell-oh?”

   Libby froze her heart pounding so hard in her chest she thought her ribs may break.

    “Hello? Is somebody there?”

   Her head was spinning as she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

  “Okay I'm hanging up now. Have a nice evening.”

   Libby panicked. “M-Maxwell? Maxwell Beaumont?” She squeaked.

   She heard his familiar chuckle through the phone. “You're speaking to him. May I ask who's calling?”

   Her eyes went wide. What was she supposed to say?

   “Sorry I didn't mean to bother you. I-I just..” she stammered but he interrupted her.

   “Libby? Is that you?” he sounded mystified.

    Silence.

   “How did you get this number? Hello? Libby?”

    In all of her life she had never smashed the end call button so fast.

     Chest heaving and eyes as wide as sand dollars she gulped her coffee, kicking herself for even attempting that call. She peered inside her French doors to see Drake was still washing dishes, so she picked up her phone and made another call.

   “Libby! I'm so happy to hear from you! How're the twins?” Hana’s bright voice answered.

   “They're great. How's Abel? How're you?”

   “Everything is fantastic here, Abel and me included.”

   “Good...guess what I'm looking at right now.” Libby laughed.

   “Um...a coffee mug?”

   Libby could visualize Hana checking her wristwatch, noting the early hours in the States.

   “Drake Walker. Washing my dishes.”

   “OHMIGAWD! Libby, I didn't say a word! How did he find you?”

  “Relax, Hana. It was total coincidence. But seeing him again has made me think… the twins are turning 16 in 6 weeks. It's Cordonian custom to introduce noble heirs to court before their 16th birthday right?”

  “Spot on, Lib.” She was quiet a few moments before she continued. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I'm not sure about anything anymore, to be honest. Seeing Walker has really messed things up around here,but the twins want to know. Can you pull off a ball in 6 weeks time?”

  “Consider it planned, Duchess.” Hana giggled. “I can't wait to see you. Um, but do you want me to invite-?”

  “The King and Queen, of course. The Duke and Duchess of Ramsford. And it's Lord. The whole court, Hana. I'm prepared to face them.” Libby lied.

***************

Ramsford, Cordonia - present day

     Maxwell stared down at his phone, heart slamming against his ribs. His first thought had been to immediately dial the number back. If it really was Libby she likely wouldn't answer anyway. He had played this game with her before, and although he was persistent, in the end he'd conceded.

    He frowned at his glass of red wine, suddenly feeling like tonight this just wasn't going to be strong enough. He plucked a bottle of bourbon from his bar cart pouring himself a few fingers worth, sipping it slowly as his mind traveled to thoughts of Libby Scott.

**************

Ramsford, Cordonia 16 years ago

        “...your quickstep is a little…” Maxwell started.

   “Slow. Again.” Bertrand commanded and Libby and Maxwell once more got into the starting position.

   Not that he needed to be told to wrap his arms around her. He was more than happy to dance with her as many times as his brother saw fit.

  Everything about Libby Scott was intoxicating-Her laugh, her shampoo, the way the ballroom lights twinkled in her eyes- and Maxwell was suiting up for a hangover he may never recover from.

  She'd stolen his heart right away, on that first night in New York. In the beginning he had thought it was only a school boy crush, but all the time they'd spent together during the social season had solidified something within him, and now he couldn't get enough.

   He found himself becoming less and less willing to share her, hoarding every second they could possibly be together. He was even starting to resent Bertrand for hanging around so much, although the two of them were training her in all manner of courtly etiquette.

   Bertrand's phone rang as Maxwell and Libby spun.

  “I have to take this, but don't stop dancing. Lady Scott must be in perfect form by the time the engagement tour begins.”

   As soon as his brother was gone, Maxwell pulled her closer, much closer than was appropriate for a courtly dance.

   “I thought he would never leave.” He whispered in her ear, earning himself a small laugh from his beloved. She twisted her face to meet his, their lips and noses brushing as she spoke.

  “And what will you do with me, Lord Beaumont, now that our babysitter is gone?”

  He smirked and pressed his lips to hers, savoring the taste.

  Her actions begged to deepen the kiss, and he parted his mouth to oblige, their tongues rolling together in a frenzy.

  No longer were they twirling, they were simply standing in the near center of the ballroom with their bodies clasped so closely together that Maxwell couldn't tell where he ended and Libby began. The rest of the world melted away as he tangled his long slender fingers through her fiery hair. Time seemed to stand still in that moment, until the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat dragged Maxwell back to reality.

   The couple parted with a loud *smack,* whirling around to find Bertrand looking somewhere between angry and appalled.

   He squared his shoulders and adjusted his blazer sleeves. “Lady Libby, I believe that's enough practice for right now. I'd like to have a moment alone with my little brother, please.”

*******************

   En route to Cordonia - Present day

    Will tapped Emma's shoulder as he slouched down in his seat. She pulled her earbuds out and quirked a brow at him.

  “What do you think they're gonna be like?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers, his voice barely above a whisper. Emma snuggled down into her chair, now level with her twin.

   “Well you read all about them. You tell me.”

    Will fingered his shoelace, twirling it between his fingers. After a few moments he replied, “I think that King Liam is pragmatic. I like a lot of the equality policies he's put into place since he became king. The general consensus throughout Cordonia seems to be that he's a wise and fair king.

   Lord Beaumont finished fourth in his class at Cordonia University. He speaks seven languages and he has a Master's degree in political science. A minor in accounting. So he seems intelligent. I found a few articles about him in Trend Magazine back around the time we were born. He's been married twice. There were rumors that he was a drunk and a party guy.” Will shrugged.

   “It sounds like we'd be lucky to have either man be our dad.” Emma told him. “But they're still just articles. The authors likely don't know Lord Beaumont or the King personally. We should be open to giving them both a chance when we meet them.”

   Will sighed heavily, his head lolling to the side as he peered out window.

  “I don't mean to be rude, but you know I have met both the King and Lord Beaumont. Liam is my godfather and Max is my uncle. A lot of what you read on click it and in Trend or wherever else is bullshit.” McKenzie said.

   Will whipped his head in her direction as Emma giggled.

  “Well then, tell us what they're really like.” The blonde girl prompted.

    McKenzie picked at a loose thread in the hole on her jeans.

   “The King is….he has a boyish charm. Everyone adores him. He's fiercely determined and very guarded. I don't mean physically, but his emotions. Even when he's sad he still smiles.

    Uncle Max is seriously the funniest guy in the world. He's constantly like, making silly faces and telling bad jokes, or dancing to music that isn't there. But he's also very serious. Like two sides of a coin. And when you talk to him, he actually hears you. Like he isn't just waiting for his turn to talk ya know?”

   Will stared at her a moment.

   “I just wanna know, ya know? Like who are we? Where did we come from? Why did Mom keep this secret for so long? Last week I barely knew Cordonia was a place and now, I might be the crown prince. You might be the princess. Our mom is a freaking Duchess?” He shook his head. “I'm so pissed off at her.”

   He slammed his knuckles into the armrest causing his sister to jump.

  “Hey. It's okay. I'll be with you the whole time. I won't let my dad take me Away. And Emma will be there too, so you won't ever be alone.” McKenzie told him reaching over Emma to place a hand on Will's thigh.

   He smiled at her. “Thanks. I'm thankful for that.”

   “And Abel. I can't wait to see him.” Emma gushed referring to Hana's son. He and Hana had visited the twins and Libby every summer and Emma had always been particularly close to Abel.

  Will rolled his eyes. “Of course you're excited to see him. You totally have a  crush on Mr-Im-perfect-at-everything.”

  “Hush! All he's ever tried to be is your friend, Will. It's not his fault he beats you at every game.” Emma scolded as her brother mumbled under his breath.

  Libby peered over the back of her seat at her twins.

  “Hey guys look out the window. We're about to fly over Cordonia. They view is breathtaking. It's always been my favorite part of flying in.” She told them.

   Emma lunged across her brother's lap plastering her face against the window. Will reluctantly peeked out too as Libby and McKenzie grinned.

   The waters surrounding Cordonia were pristine and the perfect shade of inviting blue.

   “Wooooooow. It's like something from a storybook. Isn't it beautiful, Will?!” Emma squealed.

   Her brother scoffed, “it's something alright.”

   Libby eyed her son. Although she could tell he was impressed she allowed him to continue to brood. She wished for the millionth time that she knew how to reach him.

  “Can we see Valtoria from here?”he asked.

  Libby shook her head. “Unfortunately it's too far from the airport. But we'll be there soon enough. You're going to love it in particular, Will. Valtoria is heavily wooded, perfect for camping. And there's an outdoor fun park, complete with it's very own paintball field right on the estate grounds.”

   For the first time in days Will actually smiled as he turned from the window to face his mother.

   “Cool.” He commented.

   Emma sat back in her seat as the pilot announced their descent. “Well I can't wait to see it, Mom. Or Aunt Hana, Uncle Mark, and Abel. We've never been to their house before.”

   “Actually,” McKenzie said. “Although they have their own holdings in Whipstaff, a county within Valtoria, Aunt Hana and Uncle Mark live in your house. The estate at Valtoria belongs to the Duchess.”

    The blonde girl smiled as she buckled her seat belt, gripping each armrest. “Even better.”

****************

Cordonian Capital- present day

    Liam snapped his head up from his desk as his wife entered his study, her heels clicking across the marble floors as she marched straight up to his desk. His first instinct told him she was angry, but as she slammed an elegant piece of heavy card stock down on the mahogany surface he caught a wry grin forming at the edges of her lips.

   “Hello, Darling. What have we here?” He asked sliding the paper from under her polished nails.

   “An invitation that you are going to be very interested in seeing.” She remarked, clicking her tongue.

  Liam read over the document three times before he finally looked up at Olivia whose arms were now neatly folded over her chest. “Heirs..?” he said aloud. “There are two of them?”

   The queen nodded. “Apparently so. She sure did take her sweet time starting a family though. And why haven't we heard about a husband? Or hell, even a wife?”

   He tossed the paper on his desk. “I have a summit meeting in Italy the next morning. I don't think we will be able to make it.”

   He removed his glasses, tossing them aside as well.

    “Liam, as your wife I'm telling you that you had better find a way to reschedule that meeting. But as your friend, I'm telling you that if you don't reschedule it I will kill you and make it look like an accident.” A wide smile plastered itself on Olivia's face as Liam chuckled.

   “Ah, Liv. I thought I smelled a hint of treason in the room.”

   “You never really know with me, dear. I think that’s what keeps things interesting.” she sat on the edge of the desk, smoothing her dress over her knees.

  “We have to be there, Liam. I really want to see Libby, and I’ll be damned if I’m going alone.”

   Liam laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

   “I’ll do my best, Darling.” he told her.

[adjameson]

Dear Cedric Phillips and GerryT,

Having listened with great interest to the “Change Worth Fighting For” episode of the Cedric Phillips Podcast, I felt compelled to reply. On that episode, you wondered why professional Magic players have seen their fortunes decline so precipitously over the past ten years, and what they can now do to improve their situation. I believe I can help explain this reversal of fortune, and offer some relevant advice. What follows is a little on the long side, and perhaps a little depressing, but I hope you will nonetheless find it edifying. If you like, it would be my pleasure to discuss these matters further.

About me, briefly: I’ve played Magic on and off since the release of Fallen Empires, and am a regular consumer of Magic content. Among other things, I’ve watched every Pro Tour since PT Los Angeles (October 2005); I’ve watched countless LSV draft videos and Twitch streams; I’ve listened to hundreds of episodes of Limited Resources, Mark Rosewater’s Drive to Work podcast, and various other Magic podcasts; and I’ve read just about every column that Mark Rosewater has ever written. At the same time, I’m also an English Ph.D. and author whose research interests include the economics of fantasy artworks—for instance, my most recent book, I Find Your Lack of Faith Disturbing: Star Wars and the Triumph of Geek Culture, tells the story of how geek culture went from being an underground phenomenon to a mainstream demographic. Given that, I tend to view Magic from a financial perspective—by which I don’t mean living the dream of playing on the Pro Tour, or making a fortune by speculating on Magic cards, but rather trying to understand why Wizards of the Coast makes the economic decisions that it does.

I am hardly a Wizards insider. But I believe that my research into Magic’s financial history, coupled with my broader knowledge of fantasy franchises, enables me to understand why Wizards has chosen over the past decade to disinvest in its Pros, even if that decision appears baffling and counterintuitive to those players. For years now I’ve watched Pros complain about their situation, wondering why, if Magic is doing so great, then why are the Pros suffering? Shouldn’t their fortunes rise and fall with Wizards’? As you yourselves put it on your podcast, “the stars sell the cards,” by which logic if Wizards wants to succeed, then it needs to build stars. Just like how the NBA promotes LeBron James, and not simply “hoops,” Wizards should promote, say, Reid Duke, and not simply “Siege Rhino.” By that same logic, if Wizards doesn’t build stars, then it won’t sell cards, and everyone’s fortune will decline.

I sympathize with your argument. I love watching professional Magic, and once attended a Pro Tour as press just so I could blog about it. But at the same time, I think that your logic is mistaken, and I suspect that your arguments will fail to impress Wizards. Because while it appears to you that Wizards is behaving irrationally, or foolishly, the fact remains that the company long ago settled on a business plan that involves investing less in its Pro players, not more. This is because Wizards has already tried the strategy that you cite—promoting Magic by championing in its Pros—only to find that it didn’t work out that all that well. Indeed, it proved nearly catastrophic. And because of that, as well as for other reasons, Wizards has spent the past ten years rebranding Magic as something other than a competitive tournament game.

Let’s review the relevant history. In 1996, Skaff Elias, Magic’s first Brand Manager, created the Pro Tour in order to promote Magic, and for the next twelve years, Wizards invested heavily in competitive Magic. Wizards ditched Magic’s original whimsical fantasy flavor (not to mention nearly all of the game’s female artists)…

…refocusing the game around dueling mage-punk badasses.

In September 2005, Magic’s creative lead, Matt Cavotta, described the game’s flavor as follows:

Magic is a head-to-head battle of wits in which two spellcasting warriors fight to the death with magic and armies of bad-ass creatures. Every card illustration should work in that context: active, aggressive, cool, wicked, “edgy.” The word “magepunk” works for us. Remember, your audience is BOYS 14 and up.

There were even two blocks centered around pit fighting.

In the Pro Player Era, Magic became a game about winning and dominating, as Wizards targeted competitive young men, selling them dreams of fame and glory, as well as the chance to “play the game, see the world.” The greatest dream was winning the Pro Tour, which Wizards presented not only as the pinnacle of Magic, but as a recruitment pipeline, using it to hire players like Randy Buehler and Aaron Forsythe. Small wonder then that, during this time, Wizards catered heavily to the Pros by creating Magic Online, the Magic Invitational, the Pro Players Club, and the Pro Tour Hall of Fame, and by making the Pro Tour Player Cards, which went inside actual packs.

Wizards also made Magic the way Pros tend to like it: grindy and combo-heavy, chock full of abstract mechanics and cards that skilled players could abuse to gain incremental advantage. For a dozen years, the Pros were Magic’s foremost ambassadors, and the stars did in fact sell the cards.

The problem is that they didn’t sell that many. By catering so heavily to Pros and Pro-wannabes, Wizards steadily alienated its casual players and much of its female fan base. (Scroll, for instance, through these photos, taken at Worlds 2008.) At first, Wizards didn’t know it was losing these customers. On an early episode of his Drive to Work podcast, Mark Rosewater explains that Wizards began calling those disappearing players “the Invisibles,” a shorthand for “people who play who don’t participate in organized play.” Take a moment to let that terminology sink in: during the Pro Player Era, Wizards was so invested in Magic as a competitive game that it didn’t even know that non-competitive players existed, and as such apparently had no good means of tracking their preferences or spending habits. But by 2008, Wizards could no longer deny that its business strategy wasn’t working. Magic was in financial crisis, with sales declining despite the fact that tournament attendance was good and the Pros loved perplexingly complex blocks like Ravnica, Time Spiral, Lorwyn, Shadowmoor, and Alara.

The Pro Player Era came to a rather abrupt end in 2008. That year, Hasbro got a new CEO, Brian Goldner, who appointed a new CEO to Wizards, a man named Greg Leeds. Leeds’ first order of business upon arrival was to clean house, and get Magic back on stable financial footing. Leeds fired several employees (including Randy Buehler), and stripped Wizards back to its core products: Magic and D&D. All other Wizards products—boondoggles like Hecatomb, DreamBlade, and Gleemax—went by the wayside.

Leeds could see that Wizards was spending too much on enfranchised, competitive gamers even as it failed to attract and acquire new players. Part of the problem was that Magic had grown too abstract, too daunting, too mind-meltingly complex for newcomers to grasp. Under Leeds’ direction, Wizards took steps to reverse course. The company partnered with Stainless Games to create the new-player-friendly video game Duels of the Planeswalkers, which launched in June 2009 and proved an immediate success. Wizards also fundamentally changed how Magic was played. Prior to 2008, Magic was primarily a game about mana, in which strategy revolved around players concealing what they were capable of doing on any given turn, which is why control and combo strategies dominated. After 2008, Magic became a game about creature combat, as Wizards nerfed the control and combo strategies that Pros adored, but that infuriated casual players. Wizards also simplified the game’s rules and implemented “New World Order” in an effort to curtail “complexity creep.” Ever since then, Mark Rosewater has cited “complexity” as the greatest threat to Magic’s survival, and Wizards has continued making changes to simplify the game, most recently scaling back the number of new mechanics in each set, and eliminating the block structure. (See Mark Rosewater’s “State of Design” columns for 2016 and 2017.)

The Pros at the time grumbled about the way that Magic was changing, but by and large they accepted what Wizards was doing, reasoning that if and when the game’s fortunes improved, their fortunes would as well—what you, GerryT, called the “trickle-down” theory of Magic. The Pros also accepted that, for the time being at least, sacrifices were needed, so they sucked it up when Wizards reduced its spending on them. The Magic Invitational and the Pro Tour Player Cards disappeared, even as payouts and player perks decreased, as did the number of Pro Tours. The remaining PTs were closed and scaled back, and synced to the latest set releases, no longer taking their names from the cities hosting them. It may not have been obvious at the time, but Wizards was abandoning the concept of “play the game, see the world,” and so it was that in February 2012, Pros attended Pro Tour Dark Ascension, and not the third Pro Tour Honolulu (!). It would seem that, in order to justify its continued existence, the Pro Tour needed to come across less like a vacation for a select few, and more like an ad for the latest set.

But the changes to Magic didn’t stop there. Here it will help to understand how Brian Goldner became CEO of Hasbro, and how he thinks about Magic—how he thinks about all of the company’s top brands. Goldner joined Hasbro in 2000 after working for Haim Saban, the man behind the Power Rangers franchise, and he rose to power by applying Saban’s brand strategy to the Transformers line of toys, transforming it, so to speak, into a massive movie-centric franchise that’s still going strong. (Bumblebee is due out in theaters soon.) Since becoming CEO, Goldner has taken the same approach to a number of Hasbro brands, making movies out of G.I. Joe, Ouija, Battleship, and My Little Pony, and attempting to make films out of Monopoly and Magic. In this way, Goldner has spent the past ten years moving Hasbro away from being a company that acquires licenses to make toys for other brands (such as Star Wars), and more toward becoming an entertainment company that promotes its own brands through movies, TV shows, and other media. (The company recently tried to purchase DreamWorks Animation.)

The way Goldner sees it, consumers aren’t looking to buy toys or Magic cards or physical products per se, but rather emotionally resonant experiences. By this logic, Transformers fans (for example) are looking for all kinds of opportunities to express their love of Transformers, from buying toys and watching movies to putting Autobot emblems on their cars and getting Decepticon tattoos. Or even doing random things like buying bags of shortbread cookies adorned with illustrations of Optimus Prime and Bumblebee.

The trick is to give fans limitless opportunities to express their identity as fans, and thereby experience the joy their fandom brings them. In that way, they bond emotionally with the brand, coming to regard it as an essential part of their life.

Goldner transmitted this philosophy to Wizards via Greg Leeds, which is why, post-2008, Wizards became obsessed with creating emotionally resonant experiences for its players. Aaron Forsythe designed Magic 2010 in order to recapture the resonant flavor of Alpha, and Mark Rosewater designed Innistrad in order to make players feel (pleasurably) afraid. Rosewater even reconceived of his job as designing not Magic cards, but emotional experiences for players. As he put it on a 2013 episode of Drive to Work:

The last couple years […] I’ve been making sure that when I make a design, that I have an emotion that I am getting out of you. That I, the game player, am going, ‘What experience am I trying to create?’ And I want to make sure that I’m making gameplay that has that emotional response.

Goldner also encouraged Wizards to create intellectual property for Magic—characters and plot lines that could be exploited across other media. Wizards responded by rebranding Magic around the Planeswalkers, a growing cast of recurring characters that can be represented not only in card form …

… but as Funko Pop figures …

… and as pieces in a board game …

… as well as characters in movies and TV shows and theme parks and Broadway musicals and—well, anything Wizards wants, really, including media and products yet to be invented. (Here, other franchises, like Harry Potter, the MCU, Star Wars, and Avatar, have been leading the way for a while, and Wizards is scrambling to catch up.) This ambition is what led Brian Goldner to claim during Hasbro’s Fourth Quarter 2014 Earnings Conference Call that Magic is “a storytelling brand first and foremost,” specifying that “engagement with characters is critical,” and it’s why Wizards announced soon thereafter that it would be doubling down on promoting the game’s story, using the Magic website and “story spotlight” cards to ensure that players can easily follow what’s happening with Jace, Liliana, Nicol Bolas, and all the rest.

As you and I know, these changes proved wildly successful: between 2009 and 2015, Magic acquired new players at a rapid clip, topping out at a reported 20 million. But as you and I also know, even though Magic financially recovered, the Magic Pros did not. Instead, in 2018, the Pro players’ condition is more precarious than ever, despite the fact that Magic is at or near the height of its popularity. Which is to say that Magic’s recent success has not, in fact, benefited the Pros. Rather, it has come at their expense.

The reason for this is relatively simple, although it might be difficult to see if one is too close to the game, and especially if one is too close to professional play. While Magic has grown tremendously over the past decade, the vast majority of the people playing today aren’t Pros, or even wannabe Pros. Instead, the past ten years have seen the “Invisibles”—casual, non-competitive players—take over. And while it’s true, as you said in your podcast, that people connect with other people, I fear you’re kidding yourselves if you think that most current Magic players are looking to connect with Magic Pros. Casual players and competitive gamers want fundamentally different things from Magic. Competitive Magic players want to test themselves, to participate in the highest levels of competition, where they strategically outplay the best opponents in the world. Like Kamahl, Pit Fighter, they came not to play, but to win, wanting the same thing Bob Maher wanted: “Greatness, at any cost.”

Casual players don’t want that, not at all. So while the Pro Tour remains, for professional players, the pinnacle of Magic, it’s a total bore for casual players (assuming they even know it exists). For one thing, as everyone knows, it makes a decidedly poor spectator sport: there’s tons of down time, and when players finally do sit down to battle, viewers can barely make out what’s happening, let alone read which cards are in play.

Beyond that, the game play itself is frequently anticlimactic, with a large percentage of games being won or lost due to mana issues. (Witness LSV losing the very last game of PT Guilds of Ravnica after mulling to four.)

It’s easy to forget, after learning something, what it was like not to know it, and competitive Magic players often forget how much knowledge is required in order to watch and enjoy the Pro Tour. Not only does one need to know all of the relevant cards and decks in a given format, but one has to understand top-level strategies, as well as issues like priority, triggers, and so on. Casual players don’t understand these things, and they don’t want to understand them. In March 2017, the Limited Resources podcast spent ninety minutes providing a detailed overview of Magic Online and “all of the phases and steps of Magic.” Casual players don’t want to listen to podcasts like that; nor do they want to learn how to set stops on Magic Online, or how to even start playing Magic Online.

Nor do they want to memorize draft pick orders, or feel like they have to know every combat trick in the format in order to play. They don’t want to have to do tons of homework just to play Magic. As such, these players (happily) lack the knowledge and proclivity required to appreciate the things that Pros obsess over, like in-depth analyses of strategy, or three-hour-long video series discussing the Top 100 Magic Cards of All Time, or even longer set reviews that scrutinize every card in a new set with an eye toward limited play. They don’t want to be Pros.

You can see this in the fact that casual players prefer playing different formats than the Pros do, to the point where the two groups are practically playing different games. Whereas Pros want to do Rochester drafts (with Beta packs!) and brew Standard decks and play Legacy and Vintage and Vintage cube, casual players gravitate toward formats like Commander. Pros famously dislike that multiplayer format due to the outsize role that politics play in determining who wins and who loses. But casual players are less invested in whether they win or lose, being more concerned with playing a fun, social game with people like themselves—people who express themselves not through crushing their opponents, but through the Guild identities, Commanders, Planeswalkers, and tribes. These players couldn’t care less about solving the metagame; since they lack the luxury of being sponsored by card shops, they can’t easily swap between decks, or afford to do dozens of drafts. Instead of playing with the best cards in the format, they play with the cards they happen to own, and if they do invest in a deck, it’s usually one that suits their personality, and that they can go on to play year in and year out, tinkering with over time.

Because these players are numerous, Wizards has spent the past decade shifting resources away from the Pro players and toward the larger, more casual demographic, rebranding Magic not as a cut-throat competitive game, but more as a fun play experience—hence the onslaught of casual-friendly products such as Archenemy, Conspiracy, Commander decks, Unstable, the full-art promos for Ultimate Masters, and Magic Arena. The Magic brand no longer revolves around winning games of Magic; indeed, it no longer necessarily involves playing games of Magic. Since 2010, Magic Prereleases have routinely featured events like unlocking the Helvault (Scars of Mirrodin), picking a side in the Mirran-Phyrexian war (Mirrodin Besieged), choosing a clan (Khans of Tarkir), and puzzling one’s way out of the “Stitcher’s Lab” escape room (Shadows over Innistrad)—i.e., ways of getting players to engage with the Magic brand beyond building decks and playing matches. Rather than being cute side events, these types of activities are increasingly the central attraction. Two months ago, Wizards announced its intention to rebrand Grands Prix as “MagicFest,” or “weekends about so much more than just the main event,” including “side events, artist booths, cosplay, panels, [and] spellslinging.” (Pro Tours will be held at MagicFests.) Today’s Magic players are looking for more than just tournaments, which means that tournaments alone aren’t enough to sell and promote the Magic brand. (Wizards can no longer justify paying for standalone GPs and PTs.)

The shoe is now clearly on the other foot. Gradually, steadily, over the past ten years, the Pro players have traded places with the Invisibles, receding from view. At the Magic Subreddit, the top posts concern topics like Magic story, Magic art, card alters, and cosplay; rarely do they involve Magic tournaments. One week after your podcast came out, the “Grand Prix Montreal, Grand Prix Mexico City, and SCG Open Columbus Discussion Megathread!” pinned to the top of the Magic Subreddit received a whopping fifty-three up-votes, and forty-four comments. As it happened, more people were interested in the fact that the artwork for Expropriate features True-Name Nemesis. Small wonder then that the Mothership’s front page routinely ignores GPs and other organized play events, preferring to use that real estate to promote Guilds of Ravnica, Commander 2018, and Magic Arena.

Speaking of which: surely it won’t be long before Wizards moves the Pro Tour to Magic Arena, or replaces the Pro Tour outright with Arena-based tournaments. Already the company is paying celebrity gamers like Day9 and Trump to stream Arena—entertaining personalities who may not be the most skilled Magic players, but who are capable of drawing thousands of eyeballs.

Of course, it’s true that casual players admire certain Magic Pros, such as LSV. But casual players don’t like Luis Scott-Vargas just because he’s one of the greatest players of all time; they like him, and subscribe to the Divination, because LSV is funny and charismatic and loves to durdle and tease Paul Cheon. That’s why they tune in to his Twitch channel even when he does things like sign tokens for GP Las Vegas, choosing to vicariously hang out with him. LSV doesn’t make his casual fans feel stupid; he makes them feel smarter, and as though they’re winning and losing alongside him. In this regard, he’s unlike most Magic Pros, who typically come across to casual players as cold, unfeeling jerks who make Magic unfun by quickly defeating them, then berating them for making bad plays with bad cards and bad decks (or for picking foil Tarmogoyfs in draft).

That is why, in 2018, Pro players are no longer the public face of Magic, having been supplanted by the Planeswalkers. If 1996–2008 was the Pro Player Era, then 2008–present has been the Planeswalker Era. More Magic players today fantasize about being Kiora or Chandra than they do being Magic Pros, which is why Wizards has taken pains to diversify that lineup of characters. The casual player base has always been more diverse than the overwhelmingly male Pro scene, and it’s presumably growing more diverse by the day. (Note how many women and female characters Wizards has chosen to depict on the current Magic homepage.)

And the Planeswalkers offer benefits beyond that. Wizards doesn’t have to pay those characters anything, or fly them anywhere, or put up with them complaining about Magic, or doing things like sitting out Worlds in protest. (Sorry, GerryT.)

Mind you, none of this is to say that Wizards no longer cares about the Pros. I imagine the company is delighted to have such a dedicated group of players that spends all of its time promoting Magic for free by making Magic videos and podcasts—not to mention purchasing Magic cards. And no doubt Pros and Pro-wannabes are still responsible for a significant portion of the game’s revenue. But those players no longer appear to be Magic’s primary audience. As such, Wizards has spent the past decade adjusting its spending on those players to a more appropriate level, valuing them for what they’re really worth, as opposed to what Wizards thought they were worth c. 2006.

Since I don’t want to end this letter on too pessimistic a note, I’ll offer a few hopeful words of advice. Please keep in mind that I am not a Magic Pro. But if I were, I would try to take more of my well-being into my own hands. Fifteen years ago, when Wizards was ignoring the “Invisibles,” some of those players created Elder Dragon Highlander, which went on to become Commander, now the most popular Magic format (and which is still maintained by its own independent rules committee). Today, if the Pros feel slighted by Wizards, then they should make the version of Magic they want to exist—their own tournament scene, their own formats, their own banned and restricted lists, their own Hall of Fame—rather than relying on Wizards to maintain institutions it created in a totally different era, when the company’s priorities were different from what they are now. The Pros should also unionize, or enter into some other collective partnership, and make their stand together, collectively working to attract sponsors and streaming deals. More than anything else, the Pros should recognize that their fortunes won’t necessarily rise or fall with Wizards’, or with Magic’s. But the Pros will certainly rise and fall with each other.

Best wishes, Adam

An open letter to Cedric Phillips, Gerry Thompson, and the Pro Magic community at large Dear Cedric Phillips and GerryT, Having listened with great interest to the “Change Worth Fighting For…

[vgckwb]

Danganronpa: Away Chapter 2: Talk is Cheap, Death is Free (Part 1)

The night after the first trial. Location: ???

The gold light peers through a portal to see the horrors that have occured. “I knew it was too good to be true” the light says to itself. “Did Monkuma know I couldn’t interfere unless he did something? Or is there another reason? Either way, I just need to find another way to help them. Hopefully before the body count becomes all of them. However, if I’m reading this right, there is going to be some help with that.”

Abandoned Hope’s Peak Academy Building:

I had the dream again. I was being dragged away, begging not to, while an evil smile haunted me. Only this time I saw some more detail. I was in a courtroom. Why was I in a courtroom at this young of an age? Oh yeah, grandpa. He probably had something to do with it. But why did I get involved? Why am I screaming to be let go? Why is this smile looking at me? The smile gets closer and closer.

“GAH!’ I said waking up. I breathed heavily for a while. I tried going back to sleep, but my mind kept jumping back and forth between Maria’s body, Roman’s execution, and that smile. It was only 2 am. “What do I do?” I said to myself. Just then I was reminded of some things.

[The first day of Monkuma rule]

“I just make statues of Maria to relax” said Roman.

[The night of the arm wrestling contest]

“By the way, one of you was complaining about the low amount of clay. I’ll make sure that they bring it along with the next food delivery” said Monokuma.

[Present]

“...Well, normally taking advice from killers isn’t something I would do” I said. “But I guess in this case, it’s better than nothing.” I got out of bed and went down to the art room. Maria’s body, the statue, and the tapestry have all been moved. I looked around and eventually found the clay. “Now let’s see...from what I remember from art class…” I prepared the clay and sat down at a station. I began by taking a lump of clay and start working on it. I knew exactly what I wanted to make. I began to work on the clay. I wasn’t an expert like Roman was, but I hope my stuff looks fine. I just kept working away at it.

The next thing I remember is someone telling me to “wake up…” I opened my eyes, not knowing that they were closed and saw the light of day and a figure hovering over me. “Good sir, wake up!” the voice said again.

I adjust to the light and saw Troy through the haze. “...Troy?” I say.

“HE LIVES!” shouted Troy.

“Oh thank goodness” said Jay.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Troy looked at me and said “You weren’t in your room this morning, good sir. We thought something bad had happened to you. So we went looking for you.”

“Hey, he’s in here!” Jay called out to everyone else. “He’s alive!” Soon everyone was in here.

“What happened?” asked May.

“We just found him sleeping” said Jay. “He was just hunched over in a seat.”

“What were you thinking?!” shouted Cassy. “Why did you leave your room?!”

“...Well-” I said.

“Don’t yell at him” said Pierce, who I noticed had received a big black eye on his left eye since the last time I saw him. “He’s alright, and that’s all that matters.”

“Pierce...your eye…” I said.

“Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re alright” said Pierce.

“...But what he was doing here is a mystery” said Annabelle. “And I wouldn’t mind knowing.”

“Of course” said Rachel.

“So, um, what were you doing in here?” asked Sophie.

“Well...I kind of had a nightmare last night” I said. “I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. I then remembered that Roman says he sometimes makes statues to relax. So I’d thought I’d try it.”

“I get it” said Pierce. “So, what did you make statues of?”

“Well, I…” I began when I remembered something. “Oh FUCK!” I called out and went back to my station. The statue I was working on was on its side, and pressing against itself. “Oh no” I said.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jay.

“It’s just *sigh* the statue of my mom I was working on got ruined” I said.

“I am sorry to hear that, good sir” said Troy, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sure you can fix her.”

“I guess you’re right” I said. I picked her up and put her back on the station. “So, are we all getting breakfast?” I asked.

“Huh? Oh yeah” said Jay.

“I kind forgot about breakfast actually” said Duke. “I was too worried about what happened yesterday. And then Justin was missing. I became double worried.”

“Does this mean you like him?” asked Annabelle.

“Huh? Like, like him like him?” asked Duke. “Not really. I can’t deny his appeal, but I don’t swing that way. I just got so worried because I saw two dead bodies yesterday. That’s two more than I usually see in a day.”

“Usually?” said Annabelle.

“Appeal?” I said.

Jay put his arm around me “Let’s just go get breakfast. We can continue talking in there.”

“Huh” I said. “Oh sure.” We all made our way to the dining area. We each made our own breakfast, and sat down to eat. I decided to ask Pierce “So, how did you get that black eye?”

Cassy stopped and stared at me. “It was nothing. Honestly” said Pierce.

“NOTHING?!” shouted Andy. “Cassy just started punching you when we found out that  Justin was missing! How can you call that nothing?!”

“Cassy?!”

“Yeah,” said Jay. “It was kind of hilarious actually. I mean, it wasn’t so funny at the time, but now that we know you’re safe, it was funny.”

“Why did she do that?” I asked.

“I can explain” said Pierce. “See, last night, I was going to grab a bite to eat. Cassy was too, and we met each other in the hall. Cassy, being Cassy, wanted to keep her distance, but I told her that it would be fine. In the moment I said ‘no one would try anything just after the trial.’ So when you went missing, Cassy thought someone might have killed you. She took that anger out on me for thinking I lied. But you’re alive, and that’s all that matters.”

Cassy looked at him. “I guess that makes sense” I said.

Cassy looked back at me and said “Right. Of course. More importantly, I would like to know something. How did you manage to figure out who killed Maria?”

“Yeah, I was wondering the same thing” said Jay. “Your performance was amazing.”

“I would like to know as well” said Annabelle. “You’re style of questioning and summarizing was second to none.”

“...I don’t know…” I said. “I just kind of figured out what was going on. Although, you guys played a huge part in it.”

“We did?!” asked Buck.

“Well yeah” I said. “If it wasn’t for the information you guys gave, we never would have made it out of there alive.”

“But you were the one who put it together” said Cassy. “How did you do that?”

I stared at her for a second. “I really don’t know. It just kind of came to me.”

“Maybe it has something to do with his hidden talent” said Duke. We all looked at him. “I mean, I know that chemical compositions come to me naturally. Maybe he has a knack for figuring things out.”

“You know what?” said Pierce. “I think you might be onto something.”

“Really?!” said Duke.

“It makes sense” said Andy. “We each had the pieces, but Justin is the one who put it all together. Maybe he has some sort of puzzle solving Ultimate talent.”

“But how could we test it?” said Tammy. “I mean, I could engineer a puzzle, but I don’t have the materials.”

“That’s a good point” said Jay. “How could we test it?”

We all stopped to think. “Hey, what about figuring out who is controlling Monokuma?!” said Annabelle. “That’s certainly a puzzle worth solving.”

“It is” said Cassy. “But I’ve been trying to figure it out since Monokuma trapped us in here, and I can’t figure it out.”

“Well, maybe it’s worth giving Justin a try” said Elliot. “He might figure it out in minutes.”

“What did you say?” said Cassy, with a dark look on her face.

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” said Elliot. “I’m saying that Justin may be better than you.”

“Do you want to be the next person we find dead?” said Cassy.

“I’m not better than Cassy” I said.

Cassy and Elliot looked at me and said “Huh?”

“Well, it’s more that we have different skill sets” I said. “Cassy is better at getting information than I am. During our investigation yesterday, she figured out different elements that I wouldn’t even think to test. She might also be better at figuring out stuff than I am as well, but she needs time to do it, and Monokuma doesn’t give us that luxury.”

“Indeed I do not” said Monokuma’s voice from nowhere. Monokuma mysteriously showed up and then continued talking. “And as I do not give you the luxury of time, FINISH YOUR BREAKFASTS QUICKLY! I’ve got something to show you all upstairs.” Monokuma left.

Not wanting to try his patience, we did as he said and finished breakfast. We then all headed upstairs to see what he wanted. We found him standing by the walled off hallway. “What do you want, fuckface?” asked Buck.

“I’m glad you asked” said Monokuma. “But I am sad that you called me a ‘fuckface.’”

“Consider yourself lucky I didn’t go further” said Buck.

“Very well. I will do that” said Monokuma. “Ahem. Now for the main event. You all congregating in the trial room made refurbishing this old building easier. So now I have this area done for you. You can explore and kill each other here to your heart’s content.”

I found this odd. “What about the rest of the first floor?” I asked.

“Silly Justin” said Monokuma. “You don’t know what’s on the rest of the first floor. So you don’t know how hard it is to refurbish it. DON’T QUESTION MY METHODS ANYMORE!”

“Alright, chill” I said. “You could have just said that without getting angry.”

“True...but I like getting angry” said Monokuma. “Anyway, it’s time for the reveal.” Monokuma grabbed the end of the wall and pulled it back to reveal the rest of the second floor. “Presenting, the second half of the second floor. That is all.” Monokuma disappeared.

We walked forward to see what this new area entitled. There were a lot of classrooms. “So THIS is where the classrooms were” Buck said. The left side had classrooms going most of the way down the hallway. At the end though, there was a bigger room. I thought to check that later. The right side had some classrooms, but it had something else. A big room that spanned the back half of the hallway. I decided to save that room for last.

I first looked through the classrooms. Most of them were empty. They all looked like regular classrooms. I found some of my fellow students in some of them though.

The first room I found that had others in it had Sophie, Tammy, and Elliot. “Oh, hello” I said, walking in.

“Hi” said Sophie.

“Hello” said Tammy.

“Hey there” said Elliot. “So, what do you think this room was used for?”

“Huh?” I said, confused.

“It’s just that the three of us were arguing about what kind of room this is” said Elliot.

I stood confused. “It’s a classroom” I said.

“We know THAT” said Tammy. “We just want to know what kind of classroom it is.”

I was even more confused. “Wha……” I said.

“You know, like ‘Is this a math classroom?’” said Sophie. “Or like a psychology classroom?”

“Oh” I said. “That’s what you mean. What makes you think that I would know?”

“Well DUH! Because your grandfather used to be the headmaster here” said Tammy.

“Yeah, and he was still doing some side-work for Hope’s Peak up until his death” said Elliot. “And since you spent so much time with him, I’d thought you would have known.”

I guess that makes sense. “Unfortunately, I don’t know exactly what kind of classroom this was” I said. “By the time I was born, this building had already been condemned.”

“Oh” said Elliot.

“This doesn’t resemble the classrooms at the current Hope’s Peak at all” I said. “I wonder why.”

“Good question” said Monokuma, popping up.

“AH!” I said.

“See, at this building, Hope’s Peak was more generalized” said Monokuma. “Back when this building was open, they had your regular classes, and just put similar students together. If I recall, this was a social sciences room. When this building become condemned, the headmaster at the time, your grandfather, thought it was time for a change and asked the new building to reflect that change. The result was making Hope’s Peak, more open ended.”

“Tell me something” said Elliot. “Why did this building get condemned?”

“And why are you refurbishing it?” asked Tammy. “If you hate Hope’s Peak so much, why do you want to bring this building back?”

“Well...I can’t answer that first question” said Monokuma.

“Why not?” asked Sophie.

“Because that would give away too much” said Monokuma.

“We’ll figure it out eventually” I said, defiantly.

“Well, I suppose given enough time here, you could” said Monokuma. “But what are the odds that you’ll be alive to figure it out are in the first place?”

I was worried. That was a good point, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. “What makes you think any more of us will be dead in the first place?” I said.

“Smooth” said Monokuma kind of sarcastically. “But I already know. I’m already working on the next motive.”

That bastard.

“As for that second question, I have two answers. One, it’s to encourage you guys to kill each other in more creative ways. It would be boring if you each grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed someone in the throat EVERY time.”

“Um, what’s the other reason?” said Sophie, nervously.

“The other reason?” said Monokuma. “Why, because this is the Ultimate Killer’s old stomping grounds of course. He feels nostalgic whenever he sees students roaming around here. It’s a nice little gesture I do for him. But it’s mostly the first answer.”

“WHAT?! No way!” said Tammy.

“Yup!” said Monokuma. “It was here that he came to learn about the best possible ways to kill people.”

“Why would your grandfather allow that kind of talent in?” asked Elliot.

“He wouldn’t” I said. “You know, I always thought that claim was suspicious.”

“Suspicious or not, he just admitted he went to Hope’s Peak. He is the Ultimate Killer, isn’t he?” said Elliot.

“Well, technically, no. I’m just an AI programed by the Ultimate Killer. I’m like a tool he uses for killing. Much like a knife or a gun. Except I’m cuter” said Monokuma.

“As I was saying,” I said, “I thought it was suspicious, but now that know that you went to school here while my grandfather was headmaster, there’s no doubt in my mind. You didn’t come to Hope’s Peak to become the Ultimate Killer!” Everyone was shocked.

“Alright smartypants,” said Monokuma, “IF the Ultimate Killer didn’t come here to become the Ultimate Killer, then what DID he come to Hope’s Peak for?”

“Well…” I said. “I don’t know.”

“AHA!” said Monokuma. “So you can’t prove anything! You have no evidence.”

“Well...you kind of just gave me some circumstantial evidence, if I’m being honest” I said.

“Wha? HOW?!” asked Monokuma.

“You just asked me to prove it. You didn’t deny it” I said.

“Well, I deny it now” said Monokuma. “You didn’t let me get to that point.”

“No, it makes more sense that you didn’t come here to be the Ultimate Killer” said Tammy. “I mean, Hope’s Peak is meant to help, and since when has killing people helped anyone?”

“Wars. Coups. Making martyrs. Getting away from people who attack others. The uses for killing are endless” said Monokuma.

“Sure…” said Elliot. “But those are a very specific way of killing, with a more specialized type of person to deal with those things. You kill because you don’t like Hope’s Peak. That’s more of a specific end to your goals, not what those things might accomplish.”

“But, you also work at Hope’s Peak” said Sophie. “How does that work?”

“Why should I tell you?” said Monokuma. “I almost let something slip because of your mind games. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Doesn’t like…” I said. Everyone looked at me. “THAT’S IT!”

“What’s it?” asked Elliot.

“The Ultimate Killer doesn’t LIKE the talent he was originally recruited for” I said. “THAT’S why he said he came here to be the Ultimate Killer. He would rather be a killer than his original talent.” Monokuma was mad. “Am I wrong?”

“NO MORE QUESTIONS!” Monokuma fled.

“Does that mean you’re right?” asked Sophie.

“I think I might” I said.

“Wait, people can NOT like their talents?” asked Tammy.

“Well, yeah” I said. “My grandfather ran into those kinds of people from time to time. He would always talk to them personally and get to know why they don’t like their talents. It would take some doing, but my grandfather could always convince them that their talents meant something.”

“Huh. Interesting” said Tammy.

“But why did he not do that with the Ultimate Killer?” asked Elliot. “Then we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“I...don’t know” I said. “Maybe he couldn’t get through to them? I really don’t know. This was before I was born. I didn’t know him back then.”

“I suppose that’s fair” said Elliot.

“Well, at least we know what this room was for” said Sophie.

“Oh yeah” said Tammy. “I had forgotten about that.”

“Well, I should get back to exploring” I said.

“Seeya!” said Elliot.

“Bye!” said Tammy.

“Later!” said Sophie. I left the room.

The next room I walked into that had anyone in it only had Buck. “Hey Justin” he said.

“Hey” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was doing some self-reflection” said Buck.

“Oh?” I said.

“Yeah” said Buck. “Being in here, it reminds me of my old school. I had to keep my grades up if I wanted to be on the basketball team. I used to think of all that fucking school work as a means to an end. A way to do the thing I enjoy. But..”

“But…” I said.

“Just thinking of this horrible shittastic situation we’re in, I’d feel like those classes would come as a sweet relief. And now I just feel bad that I treated it the way I did. I mean, look around. It seems so peaceful now.”

“I guess compared to our current situation, class doesn’t seem so bad” I said.

“Exactly” said Buck. “And I’m thinking ‘it’s only peaceful here because there’s no one in here. Usually, it’s chaotic. But it’s the same with basketball. It’s chaos, but finding your way though it is what makes it satisfying. So I’m thinking that when I get out, I should start treating school work the same way.”

“I like that idea” I said. “I hope you do better.”

“Thanks” said Buck. I left.

The last classroom I found with someone in it had Cassie. “Um, hi” I said.

“Not now” she said. “I’m trying to look for clues.”

“Well...if it’s information that you want…” I said. I then informed her of the conversation Tammy, Sophie, Elliot, and I had with Monokuma.

“...I can’t believe I missed all of that.”

“Well, it’s just wrong place wrong time.”

“No. They invited me to come with them. But I refused.”

“Oh...”

“God, I am such an IDIOT!”

“No you’re not.”

“I am! I’m too focused on getting out that I miss an opportunity to do so.”

“It happens to the best of us…” I could tell she’s beating herself up. “Look, there was no way of knowing that would happen. It only happened because I joined the conversation.”

“So...you’re saying I should follow you constantly?”

“Well, no. I’m saying that it can happen at anytime. The point is you don’t know. So it’d be hard to get anything on your own. I know how hard it can be to open up at times, but sometimes it can be worth it.”

“...I think I get what you’re saying.”

“Great. I’m glad we had this talk.”

“I think I would like to hang around with you for the rest of the day though. You know, just because.”

“...OK. We can do that.”

“Where are you going next?”

“Well, I was going to go to the room at the end on the left.”

“OK, let’s go!”

We left the classroom and entered that room. It was a library with a computer lab. Rachel and Annabelle were there.

“Oh, hi there” said Annabelle.

“How do you two do?” asked Rachel.

“We’re doing alright...I think” I said.

“Yes” said Cassy. “It appears you two have been here for a while. What can you tell us about this place?”

“Straight to the point, I see?” said Rachel. “Well, it’s just as it looks like. It’s a library. There are a lot of book here. As you could probably guess, I took a glance at all of the history books.”

“Was there anything to report on them?” I asked.

“Yes” said Rachel. “These books are ancient. Well, not technically ancient. But they are rather old. I think these were the book that were here when this school was operational.”

“That’s weird” said Annabelle. “Because I was in the computer lab, and all of the computers seem rather up-to-date.”

“That’s strange” said Cassy.

“So, if the computers are up to date, do you think you could contact the outside world?” I asked.

“I tried that” said Annabelle, “but they won’t do that.”

“Really?” said Rachel.

“Yeah, it’s using a weird operating system” said Annabelle. “According to the computer, it’s called Kuma.O.S.”

“No doubt a gift from our gracious host” I said.

“Why would he bother installing his own operating system if he didn’t bother to update the GODDAM BOOKS IN THE LIBRARY?!” shouted Rachel.

I have never seen Rachel like this before.

Cassy was thinking “...maybe it has something to do with the security. He had to hijack Monobird’s systems and install his security cameras and such. Maybe these computers had to be update.”

“Wait!” I said. “If these computers are connected to that, then it’s possible we might be able to reverse engineer it.”

“What do you mean?” said Rachel.

“Well, if they’re all on this Kuma.O.S., then it’s possible we could find a way around Kuma.O.S. by figuring it out on a computer that’s here.”

“Yeah. Yeah I think we could” said Annabelle.

“But we’d need someone who has an expertise with computers” said Cassy.

“What about Tammy. Maybe she could do it” I said.

“Good thinking” said Cassy. “We shall tell her at dinner.”

“Great” I said.

“You know, I’m starting to get it even more” said Cassy.

Annabelle tok out a notepad “Get what more?” she asked.

“Oh” said Cassy. “Well, I was having some trouble doing some detective work on my own. Justin is going around talking with everyone and in turn he is finding out all of this information. So I’m starting to see the benefits of getting out of my shell more...so to speak.”

“OK. OK” said Annabelle. “But as a detective, don’t you usually talk to witnesses?”

“OF COURSE!” said Cassy, defiantly. “What do you take me for?”

“It’s just...why aren’t you good at talking to people in this instance then?” asked Annabelle.

“Well...it’s just that...trying to get out of here is work. I’m a detective. I’m trying to solve a mystery. From the outset of this, you guys were presented as people I should be friends with. I don’t like mixing work with pleasure. When I’m at work, I like focusing on work. When I’m having fun, I like focusing on that. But in this situation, everything is jumbled. Are you my friends, or are you potential targets that I need to solve a mystery to save? I don’t know.”

“It’s both” I said.

“What?” said Cassy.

“It’s both” I repeated. “Well, I think you should treat it as both anyway.”

“How do you figure?” said Cassy.

“Well, I think Monokuma designed this to aggravate you specifically” I told her. “Like the three hour time limit on the investigation. He’s doing this to actively throw you off. Because he knows you’re a good detective when you work how you usually do.”

“So, you’re thinking he’s doing this to throw me off of my groove?” Cassy asked.

“I mean, yeah” I said. “You’re probably the biggest threat if you had time and the ability to investigate properly. So by taking all of that away, he’s trying to reduce you to the level of everyone else who doesn’t have experience solving high profile cases.”

“Hmmmm. You have a point” said Cassy. “Alright.”

“Alright what?” asked Annabelle.

“I’m going to try to break out of my usual style and adapt to this new situation. I can’t think like how I usually think if I want to bring everyone out of here” said Cassy.

“Oh. OK. That sounds fantastic” said Annabelle. “Now Justin…”

“Yes?” I asked.

“How did you figure that out?” Annabelle said.

“Well...I just thought of everything that’s happened so far” I said. “It seems like at every turn Monokuma wants to mess with Cassy.”

“That is entirely correct” said Monokuma popping up.

“GAH!” said Annabelle.

“But it seems like I should have been more worried about you, Mr. Arbil” said Monokuma.

“Well, how could you?” I asked. “After all, I have an unknown talent.”

“True...but you’re also the grandson of that jackass Westwood” said Monokuma. “If he wanted you in Hope’s Peak, then there’s no reason not to fear you.”

“So does this mean you fear all of us?” I asked.

“I-NO MORE QUESTIONS!” Monokuma said as he disappeared.

“Weird” said Annabelle.

“Although I think you were on to something” said Cassy. “I DO think he’s afraid of all of us. That’s why he wants us all dead.”

“I agree” I said. “But that presents a new question.”

“What's that?” asked Cassy.

“If he’s afraid of all of us, then why doesn’t he just kill us all. He has the means.”

“True” said Cassy. “You did mention that the Ultimate Killer doesn’t like his actual talent right?”

“Yeah” I said.

“When did this happen?” asked Rachel.

“When I was talking with Elliot, Tammy, and Sophie” I said. “Monokuma showed up there too.”

“Fuck” said Rachel. “I gotta check on her later.”

“Still, there might be a connection. I’ll need to think on it a little more” said Cassy.

“OK” I said. “Shall we continue exploring?”

“I think we shall” said Cassy.

“I’m going to stay here” said Annabelle.

“Same” said Rachel.

Cassy and I left. We went into the big room across the hall. It was a theater and it appeared that a lot of people came here as well. We looked around for a minute. We then decided to talk to Troy and Jay.

“Hey how’s it going?” I asked.

“Well, it’s just me right now” said Jay. “Troy has been lost in deep thought since we got here.”

“Oh” I said. “Any reason why?”

“Not that I know of” said Jay. “As soon as he saw the stage, he suddenly got lost in thought. I’m standing on guard so no one takes him from behind.”

“Oh. You’re doing a great job then” I said.

“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you” said Jay.

“Let’s see what else we can find here” said Cassy. We looked by the area we entered an electrical box. “What’s this?” I ask, flipping one of the switches. It turned on a light on the stage. We saw Duke and Pierce get blindsided by it. “SORRY!” I called out as I flipped it back off.

“Why is this here though?” asked Cassy.

“I can explain” said Monokuma popping up. “...What, is no one going to go ‘GAH!’ anymore?”

“I think we’re used to it at this point” I said.

“If you say so” said Monokuma. “Anyway, this was set up while this building was still in use. I didn’t want to mess with the building plans. Unlike a certain bird. Can you believe he installed a computer lab?!”

“He did that?” asked Cassy.

“Oh yeah” said Monokuma. “I was just lucky none of you got to it before I arrived.”

“You’re also lucky that you have machine guns pointed at us” said Cassy.

“Yes indeed” said Monokuma. “I just might be the luckiest person in here.”

“What about Sophie?” I asked.

“Well...we’ll see about that. Soon there may come a time where her luck will be pitted against mine” said Monokuma. “Is that all?”

“Yeah” said Cassy.

“Grrrrrreat!” said Monokuma, disappearing again.

We went up to the sound room and unsurprisingly found May there. “Hey guys” said May. “What’s up?”

“We were just having a look around” I said. “What did you find?”

“Glad you asked” said May. “Look at this.” She pointed to the sound system for the stage. “This thing is ancient. BUT it produces some of the best sound imaginable. In a non-digital format, that is. Man, I have always wanted to use one of these things. Although it only takes records and cassettes. I hope those are easy to find around here.”

“Maybe you could check the library?” I said.

“There’s a library?” said May.

“Yeah, it’s across the hall” said Cassy.

“Cool” said May, walking off.

Finally we decided to inspect the stage. “There’s a lot of tape here” said Cassy.

“Yeah, that’s so the actors learn where they’re standing” I said

“It is?” said Cassy.

“Yeah” said Pierce, inserting himself into our conversation. “Did you not know that?”

“Well...I don’t know how common that information is” said Cassy.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right” said Pierce. “I only know that because Andy told me.”

“So why are you judging me?” asked Cassy.

“I don’t know” said Pierce. “Perhaps I couldn’t see right from wrong after what happened this morning.”

“Look, I’m sorry” said Cassy. “I just got really scared and really angry.”

“I know. It’s just fun messing with you” said Pierce. Cassy glared. “Alright I’ll stop.”

“So, what are you doing on this stage?” I asked.

“I was just checking it out” said Pierce. “Which reminds me…” Piece looked up and called out “HEY ANDY! HOW YOU DOING UP THERE?!”

“FINE!” shouted Andy. “THERE SEEMS TO BE A PLATFORM UP HERE!”

“GREAT! KEEP ME UPDATED!” shouted Pierce.

“Are you sure it’s safe for him up there?” I asked.

“I’M FINE!” screamed Andy. “HEIGHTS DON’T BOTHER ME ACTUALLY!”

“Besides, if he falls, I’m here to catch him” said Pierce. “ISN’T THAT RIGHT?!”

“CORRECT!” said Andy.

“ANDY, WHAT KIND OF PLATFORM IS IT?!” asked Cassy. I looked at her. “I mean, as long as he’s up there.”

“UM...IT LOOKS LIKE IT CAN BE LOWERED!” said Andy. “IT’S PROBABLY USED FOR PERFORMANCES!”

“GREAT! THANKS FOR THE INFO!” shouted Cassy.

“NO PROBLEM!” shouted Andy.

“Pierce, did you notice anything else?” I asked.

“Nah” said Pierce. “By all accounts, this is a fairly normal stage. The lights seem to be in a weird place though.”

“Yeah, sorry about that” I said. “Say, where is Duke, by the way?”

“Oh, he went backstage” said Pierce.

“Maybe he found something there” said Cassy. “C'mon” she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me.

We headed back stage. It was a narrow hallway, filled with some props and costumes. There were two dressing rooms. “Which one do you think Duke is in?” I asked.

“I don’t know” said Cassy.

Duke walked out of the men’s dressing room. “You guys need me?” he asked.

Cassy and I looked at each other. “Duke, did you see anything interesting in there?” I asked.

“Eh, not really” said Duke. “Just a bunch of old scripts and stuff.”

“So, why were you in there?” asked Cassy.

“It’s the closest bathroom” said Duke. “What are you getting at?”

“So you don’t mind if we investigate?” I said.

“Go ahead” said Duke.

“Should we divide and conquer?” I asked Cassy.

“I take the girl’s room, you take the boy’s?” said Cassy

“Yup” I said. We broke off and investigated. I went into the boy’s dressing room and it is as Duke said it was. I walked back out and said “It looks like Duke was telling the truth” I said.

“Yup. Same here” said Cassy.

“Look, just because I insisted that Maria was killed in the art room, doesn’t mean I was lying” said Duke. “I didn’t know the trick to it.”

Both Cassy and I were stunned. “We were more worried about you penchant for peeping” I told him.

“What?” said Duke. “Where did you get that from?”

“From you trying to get into the girl’s bathroom” said Cassy.

“I told you, I was investigating” said Duke. “How was I supposed to know that someone was in there?”

“The point is you don’t go in” said Cassy.

“Yeah, it looks really bad that you did that” I said.

Duke was taken aback. He then hung his head in shame. “I guess you’re right” said Duke.

“Well, it will help if you apologise” said Cassy. “How about at dinner?”

“That sound good” said Duke.

The three of us walked back out together. Just as we were getting out we heard Troy scream “THAT’S IT! I GOT IT!”

“Got what?” asked Jay, who was recuperating from the sudden shout.

“Meet me at dinner, good sir” said Troy .”I shall have all the details for you all then. Until then, I bid you all adieu.” Troy ran off.

“I wonder what that’s about?” I asked.

“It looks like dinner is going to be eventful” said Cassy.

“Yeah” I said.

We kept looking around, but didn’t find much. Soon it was time for dinner, and we went off to join everyone else for this eventful evening.

Later, at dinner.

“A play?!” I said.

“Yes, good sir” said Troy. “I think this will be a great idea.”

“And what is this for?” asked Pierce.

“Why it is to help Justin find his talent, good sir” said Troy. Everyone looked at him confused.

“Um...How?” I asked.

“It’s simple, good sir” said Troy. “We put on a mystery play, and before we reveal whodunit, we shall give you the chance to answer!”

“And this will help?” I asked.

“Yes” said Troy. “At least, I think it will, good sir. It should test your aptitude for solving a case, like you did with the...unfortunate incident that happened recently. Worst case scenario: we just figure out your thoughts from it.”

“I guess it’s worth a shot” I said. “It’s better than someone getting killed.”

“I couldn’t agree more, good sir!” said Troy.

“Do you have a script?” asked Cassy.

“Actually, good madam, I was going to ask you about that” said Troy.

“Me?” said Cassy.

“Yes. I was wondering if we could borrow from a case you have solved to use as a script” said Troy. “I was stacking my brain for the best script, but I couldn’t come up with something. When you entered, it hit me. This way, not only can we guarantee that Justin doesn’t know about it, but it will be more real, which may help Justin more.”

“I guess so…” said Cassy.

“I think it sounds fun” said Pierce.

“I think you should help him” I said. “You did say you wanted to break out of your shell more. Besides, I don’t know how much more investigating we can do until we figure out Kuma.O.S.”

“What?” asked Troy.

“Oh yeah” I said. “Tammy!”

“Yeah?” asked Tammy.

“When we were in the library today, we noticed that there was a computer lab. I was wondering if you cod help us figure out the schematics of the weird programing that Monokuma installed. It could help us find a way out” I said.

“Oh. Sure!” said Tammy, delightfully. “Although it might take a while.Do you know how hard it was getting the blueprints for the prison computers? Like a month. And that was in a stress-free environment.”

“So, it’s going to take a while then” I said.

“Yeah” said Tammy. “But I can start figuring out stuff tomorrow.”

“Cool” I said.

Rachel looked at Sophie and said “Hey, I heard you had a run-in with Monokuma today. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine” said Sophie.

“Good. I don’t want that plush bastard doing anything to you” said Rachel.

“I know you worry,” said Sophie, “but I think you need to look out for yourself a bit more.”

“I’m fine” said Rachel.

“That’s exactly what I said, and we both know I don’t fully mean it” said Sophie. “Luckily Justin got him all flustered, so I’m not as worried.”

“Well, that’s good” said Rachel.

“I’m serious though” said Sophie. “I’ll be fine. Maybe you need to start taking care of me less, and taking care of yourself more.”

“...I’ll think about it” said Rachel.

“Good” said Sophie.

Duke was nervously looking at May. “What do you want?” May asked. “You've been nervous since we got here.”

“It’s just that...I want to apologize…” said Duke. “About yesterday.”

“Oh. Yeah, that was weird” said May.

“But I was trying to investigate, but I know it’s wrong…” said Duke.

“You know what you can do?” said May. “Maybe just stay away for a little bit. I mean, except in instances where Monokuma summons us all under the threat of death.”

“OK” said Duke. “So, how long do you figure?”

“I dunno” said May. “But I will tell you when it’s over.”

“Cool” said Duke. He picked up his things and moved next to me. “Well, that could have gone better” he told me.

“Could have gone worse” I said, trying to cheer him up.

“Yeah. I guess it could have” said Duke.

After we finished, everyone went to relax. It was kind of a big day. As I was about to leave, Cassy stopped me and said “Hey.”

“Hey. What’s Up?” I asked.

“So, was your mom the only statue you worked on, or…?”

“Oh. OH! Right. Uh, no actually” I said.

“Could I see what else you made?”

“Sure.” I walked her into the back room of the art room and showered her the top shelf. Up there was little statues of Maria and Roman.

“Oh. Cool.”

“You like them?”

“I like the thought behind them” Cassy said. “But your craft could use a little work.

“Yeah, I know” I said.

“You gonna finish your mom’s?”

“I think I’ll do that tomorrow. Today was a long day. I’m tired enough.”

“Fair...I think I’ll head back to my room and try to think of a case that Troy can adapt.”

“Hey, do you think Troy could do a good job?”

“Well, I think he has a flair for the dramatic. He’s also very upfront about being trusting. So I think he won’t ruin it too much.”

“Too much?” I asked.

“Well, you kinda have to fudge a few details in adapting the truth. It makes things more interesting.”

“Gotcha” I told her.

“Well, later” she said, leaving the art room.

I decided to reflect on the statues and the people they were inspired by.

Maria. Full of kindness and understanding right up to the very end. Always looking out for everyone. Roman, Andy, all of us. She was like our mom in a way. She had no place in this Hell. Hopefully she’s thriving in Heaven.

Roman. Always trying to impress. He was afraid to be left behind, and that fear drove him to make his decisions. Of course I don’t agree with what he did, but I understand it. If it wasn’t for all this intense pressure, I’m sure he’d be doing good for himself.

I left the art room and the night time announcement came on. After it finished, I was going to head to my room, but then I remembered something. “I wonder what’s new in the MonoMono Machine.” I walked over and gave it a spin.  Put some coins in and got a few things. The first notable thing I got a jumbo pack of marshmallows. “Weird” I said. “But I guess they’ll be useful for something.”

The other notable thing I got was an acoustic guitar. “OK, how does this even fit in here?”

“Oh, I know this” said Monokuma, popping up. “OK, let’s get into character. Short. Apathetic. Really believes in this stuff. Ahem. It’s MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGIC!”

“Right…” I said. ‘Hey so, as long as I have you here, you willing to be honest with me?”

“Depends” said Monokuma.

“How long until we’ve figured out everything?”

“Oh, I know this one too. OK. Short. Depressed. Athletic. Ahem. You’ve still got a ways to go.”

“Right. Well good night” I told him, as I walked back to my room. I went into bed and fell asleep, thinking about all of the weird stuff that happened today. What does it mean? And what will our future hold.

[bakurapika]

haha okay i love jd, i really do, yes i’m one of Those People

BUT i really want to show the masterpiece of manipulative behavior that is the reprise of “meant to be yours” (which veronica thankfully outsmarts)

(i talk about this a lot but i think about this a lot so???)

this is gonna be LINE BY LINE yall

oh and side note this is so fun for voice/acting practice because of the bajillion emotions and crescendos in this frickin genius song

All is forgiven, baby! 

JD’s introducing himself as the gracious, forgiving party that was wronged in their previous encounter (which, if you haven’t watched through the whole musical, was him intimating the murder of Heather Duke... and his extremely reckless use of a firearm after promising that he was a changed man). This is putting Veronica in an awkward position of guilt from the get-go.

Come on, get dressed. You're my date to the pep rally tonight!

More of JD assuming that he’ll get his way from Veronica without her having a say in the matter.

You chucked me out like I was trash

Placing all the guilt from their encounter on Veronica’s cruelty and senselessness. Avoiding responsibility for anything he’s done thus far. Painting Veronica in a heartless light that would normally inspire pity and apology. 

For that you should be dead—

More evidence of JD’s recklessly erratic behavior and roller coaster of emotional extremes. Though I definitely think JD has a lot of mental illness issues on his plate, I (as an unprofessional run of the mill armchair diagnoser) don’t think this is a symptom of any of them. It’s another sign of abuse--that JD’s mood varies so wildly that Veronica would have to walk around eggshells on him. That this idea popped in his head is enough of a red flag; that he tells Veronica this while trying to make up is nothing less than an implicit death threat. 

For context, remember that JD’s already set plans in motion that would make it very, very easy to fake Veronica’s suicide at his own hands. This wasn’t just a passing idea. This is a noose he’s already wrapped around her neck.

But! But! But! Then it hit me like a flash What if high school went away instead?

This line is definitely more of a mental-illness issue (or at least unhealthy thinking) than the previous ones. JD’s getting paranoid now in his search for somebody to blame besides himself or Veronica for their breakup. 

Those assholes are the key!

JD’s extending an olive branch here, at least in his own mind. He’s not forgiving Veronica for their fight, though; he’s saying that it’s not her fault, since she’s being controlled by a malicious third party. Not only is this insulting--it’s insinuating that her judgment and decision-making is impaired (and that JD is the one to make her decisions for her in the meantime).

Keep in mind that he’s not just talking about the jocks and Heathers, though. He’s talking about every single other student--including Martha and Heather McNamara, whose wills to live Veronica’s been fighting tooth and nail to save. JD may not have meant this line to be a threat against Veronica, but it functions to further drown out her opinion and isolate her from anyone besides himself.

They’re keeping you away from me!

Now JD’s making up barriers. He and Veronica didn’t “break up” by her choice anymore--there’s just an obstruction in their relationship that needs to be overcome by force. This is simplifying the issue even further than before. 

They made you blind, messed up your mind

Completely robbing Veronica of any power here. Even if Veronica tried to talk down JD at this point, he could discount anything she said as being the product of her brainwashing by the other students.

But I can set you free!

Classic manipulation--introducing a problem (whether or not it objectively exists) and putting forward the desired action as the only solution. Black and white thinking, false dilemma, whatever you want to call it--JD’s crafting a situation You left me and I fell apart

Having given Veronica an “out,” a way to escape the conflict between the two of them, JD goes back to playing the pity game. Veronica supposedly was the one who caused JD’s emotional breakdown. JD’s not letting himself be blamed at all here, and he’s definitely nowhere near an apology.

I punched the wall and cried—Bam! Bam! Bam!

This is, again, an implicit threat. If Veronica claimed to feel threatened, JD could honestly say that he said no such thing, she’s being emotional, etc. But this introduces a very immediate, physically violent threat. JD’s “lost control” and started hitting things before, and he seems like he’s in the mood to do it again. 

Then I found you changed my heart and set loose all that truthful shit inside!

Further defending his actions as the right thing to do, while painting Veronica as the guilty party. This isn’t much better reasoning than the stereotypical “you made me abuse you” line. 

And so I built a bomb Tonight our school is Vietnam! Let’s guarantee they’ll never see their senior prom! Ramping up the physical threat from mere punching to action, large-scale murder. JD is still seeing himself as the rational person here, and he expects Veronica to agree with him.

I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one!

The soft singing and sudden waltz tempo of these lines is important, I think. JD’s using a stick-and-carrot for Veronica. He’s just finished introduced the sticks--possible physical abuse or murder of Veronica, Veronica being guilty for JD’s mental breakdown, the ending of their relationship--and now he’s teasing her with the carrot. Their relationship used to be so good, and it could be again. Not only that, it’s meant to be. This isn’t a choice for Veronica anymore--it’s her fate, and she has no say in the end result.

Don’t give up on me now!

JD’s reminding Veronica of the emotional investment she’s put in this relationship. Not only does the breakup represent her failure, now; it represents her giving up on someone she cares about.

Finish what we’ve begun!

And Veronica’s not an accidental accomplice to JD’s murders, in his mind. This was something they started together.

Sadly Veronica is, at least, affected by this reasoning, as we hear in the Dead Girl Walking reprise. She considers herself as guilty as JD in Heather, Ram, and Kurt’s murders, and she does believe that it’s her destiny to end this chain of events by JD’s side. 

I was meant to be yours!

So when the high school gym goes BOOM with everyone inside—Pew! Pew! Pew!

In the rubble of their tomb

We’ll plant this note explaining why they died!

OK I’m not even gonna analyze this one for manipulation, because this is so batshit ahahahah. Heathers is full of dark comedy and I consider this one of the examples of gallows humor. 

Like the cops are just gonna be like “welp, this explosion destroyed countless human bodies................... but hey look a stickie note survived”

(Westerburg cops might, but you’d think the FBI or something would get involved. Like.......................JD didn’t even laminate the note. wtf mate, what are you expecting to happen) We’ll watch the smoke pour out the doors Bring marshmallows We’ll make s’mores! We can smile and cuddle while the fire roars! Painting a vivid picture of their relationship being “all better,” while JD still seems to be under the mistaken impression that Veronica will stop caring about her dead classmates immediately afterward. I was meant to be yours! We were meant to be one! I can’t take it alone! Finish what we’ve begun!

You were meant to be mine! I am all that you need!

Reinforcing the isolation of the victim. If Veronica actually went along with this--god forbid she had any other close personal relationships. JD would consider that absolute betrayal. 

(His motives for this are worth thinking about, though not here--he has very polarized views of the people in his life. He worships Veronica, and at this point he expects that attitude to be reciprocated)

You carved open my heart! Don’t just leave me to bleed!

Veronica’s the cruel, bloodthirsty person in this relationship if she refuses to answer him. JD’s heaping the guilt on her. Veronica, open the—open the door, please Veronica, open the door

Now he’s trying a foot-in-the-door (ha!) approach. Opening a door is a very tiny request, but if she agrees to it out of pity, she’ll feel more obligated to agree to his much bigger demands.

The frantic repetition is making this tiny request that much harder to ignore.

Veronica, can we not fight anymore, please Can we not fight anymore

JD’s trivializing the issue, turning it into a run-of-the-mill couples spat that can be fixed with a single conversation. He’s trying to get Veronica to question her judgment. 

After all, it would be so much easier at this point for her to go along with them. And then they could be happy again together.

(in the off-broadway recording JD’s voice breaks so beautifully here. I consider it a nod to the audience that JD’s not just making this up for the sake of manipulating Veronica, even if that is his desired end result--he’s really, genuinely confused at why this is such a big deal to her, and why they can’t just be happy together again [on his awful terms].)

Veronica, sure, you’re scared I’ve been there. I can set you free!

Trying to wrap up this one-sided argument by once again setting up himself and Veronica as allies in the fight against the world. He’s relating to his victim, making the issue in their relationship seem temporary and dependent on her own flawed state of mind.

This also echoes the short talk Veronica got from her mother in the previous song. While her mom was genuinely caring and trying to relate, JD is saying the same thing for much more sinister purposes. Veronica didn’t like it the first time nor the second.

Veronica, don’t make me come in there!

Again--the “you made me do it” abusive line of reasoning, with heavily implied threats and an act of physical violence.

I’m gonna count to three!

Putting a time limit on something is a great way to convince people to do it. (See: limited-time flash sales.) JD’s demanding an immediate answer from Veronica, or else. 

He’s also still setting himself up as a disciplinary adult figure--making decisions for her, scolding her, relating to her, helping her, and even trying to get her to open her bedroom door by the count of three, like she’s a five-year-old.

One! Two! Fuck it!

And I think it’s really important to note these last couple of lines in JD’s one-sided argument. He set up a time limit, but still barged in ahead of time. This wasn’t in the interest of getting inside as fast as possible, of course. This was done specifically to take Veronica off guard and find her in an even more vulnerable position while still sounding like the voice of reason. After all, he did warn her that he was coming in, and she refused to answer him, so of course he came in, who cares that he got bored of counting.

He’s making his mood unpredictable and dangerous whenever he doesn’t get his way. 

aaaand haha holy fuck i’ve written almost 2000 words on this short song and i still think i skipped over bits on accident

i’d love to hear ur thoughts tho guys if anyone read this