#and three jumps combo synchronized to on and on and on???

[starseedfxofficial]

RSI Tactics for GBPJPY: Unlock Hidden Forex Opportunities The RSI Playbook for GBPJPY: Ninja Moves That Even the Pros Miss Imagine walking into a boxing ring blindfolded. That’s what trading GBPJPY without the Relative Strength Index (RSI) feels like. One minute you’re up; the next, you’re down for the count. But don’t worry—we’re about to unveil the RSI’s secret sauce and help you spot knockout opportunities before they hit you in the face. Why GBPJPY Is the Wild Card of Forex Dubbed the “Dragon Pair,” GBPJPY isn’t for the faint-hearted. It’s volatile, unpredictable, and perfect for traders who love a challenge. With great risk comes great reward, and that’s where the RSI steps in like your ringside coach, helping you dodge the jabs and land the perfect hook. RSI: Your Crystal Ball for GBPJPY Trends The Relative Strength Index (RSI) is like the mood ring of Forex. This oscillator measures the speed and change of price movements, scoring between 0 and 100. A score above 70 means the pair’s been partying too hard (overbought), while below 30 suggests it’s nursing a hangover (oversold). But here’s the catch: most traders stop here. To truly master GBPJPY, you need to dig deeper. Ready? Let’s go underground. 1. “Hidden Divergences”: The Secret Sauce Let’s start with something most traders overlook—hidden divergences. Unlike regular divergences, which signal a reversal, hidden divergences scream “continuation.” Spotting them is like finding a $20 bill in your old jeans. Here’s how: - Look for higher lows in RSI paired with higher lows in GBPJPY price action during an uptrend. - Or find lower highs in RSI with lower highs in price during a downtrend. Pro Tip: Use hidden divergences to hop on trends early. It’s like grabbing a front-row seat before the crowd even knows there’s a concert. 2. Timeframe Sync: The RSI Multi-Timeframe Method GBPJPY loves to fake out traders, so here’s a ninja trick: synchronize RSI signals across multiple timeframes. Think of it like checking the weather forecast—one source might say rain, but when three agree, you grab an umbrella. How to Execute: - Use a higher timeframe (e.g., 4H) to confirm the overall trend. - Switch to a lower timeframe (e.g., 15M) for entry signals. - Align the RSI’s overbought/oversold zones across both. 3. The RSI + Fibonacci Combo: Match Made in Forex Heaven Remember that feeling when you pair the perfect wine with a meal? That’s what happens when you mix RSI with Fibonacci retracements. Step-by-Step: - Identify a trending GBPJPY move. - Plot Fibonacci levels. - Watch RSI at key retracement points (38.2%, 50%, 61.8%). If RSI confirms an overbought or oversold signal at these levels, you’ve struck gold. 4. “RSI Zones”: Beyond the Standard 70/30 Who says you have to stick to RSI’s default 70/30 levels? For GBPJPY, try customizing: - Set overbought at 80 and oversold at 20 during high volatility. - Tighten to 60/40 during calm market conditions. Think of it like adjusting the thermostat in your house—personalize it to your comfort (or, in this case, the market’s temperament). 5. GBPJPY’s “Golden Hour” Every pair has its prime trading hours, and GBPJPY is no exception. Thanks to overlapping London and Tokyo sessions, the best time to trade is 7:00–10:00 AM GMT. Combine RSI analysis with these hours, and you’ll spot trades before most traders even have their morning coffee. Real-Life Example: Turning RSI Insights into Profit Last October, GBPJPY hit an overbought RSI on the 1H chart at a major Fibonacci resistance. Instead of jumping in to short immediately, a savvy trader waited for confirmation on the 15M RSI. The result? A 100-pip drop in hours. Avoiding Common RSI Pitfalls - Ignoring the Trend: RSI is not a stand-alone tool. Use it with moving averages or trendlines to avoid getting blindsided. - Chasing Every Signal: Not every overbought/oversold condition leads to a reversal. Be selective—quality over quantity wins the race. - Overcomplicating Settings: While tweaking RSI can help, stick to what’s effective. Fancy doesn’t always mean better. Advanced Bonus: RSI + Smart Trading Tool Want to supercharge your RSI strategy? Use a Smart Trading Tool like the one available at StarseedFX. Automate RSI alerts, optimize lot sizes, and streamline order management. It’s like having a trading assistant that never sleeps. Mastering GBPJPY with RSI Trading GBPJPY with RSI is an art and science. From hidden divergences to multi-timeframe sync, the tools are at your fingertips. But remember, every trader’s journey is unique. Start small, test strategies, and let the RSI be your guiding light in the Forex jungle. Your Next Step: Expand your skills with these resources: - Latest Forex News for market insights. - Free Forex Courses to refine your techniques. - Community Membership for expert analysis and live trading insights. Start trading smarter today—and don’t forget to share your success stories below. After all, trading is better when you’re not flying solo! —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[scarytheory]

My 10 favourite programes of 2021–2022 (women)

5. Yuhana Yokoi – Queen Medley (FS)

[spark-translations]

Translation: Project Sekai Missions

So project sekai finally released!! Haven’t seen the mission translations around yet so I decided to do them. Translation under the cut!

Important Note: I have translated all the missions that I have currently have + the one I remember. If there’s one that doesn’t seem to be on this list, please let me know by sending in an ask or messaging me!

Live missions are just get ___ amount of points

*Regular Missions:

Complete 35 lives ・ライブを35回クリアしよう。

Complete 45 lives・ライブを40回クリアしよう。

Complete 60 lives ・ライブを60回クリアしよう。

See someone’s self introduction from their profile・プロフィールから自己紹介を見る*

Watch the first half of someone’s side story ・メンバーのサイドストーリー［前編］を一回見よう。

Watch the second half of someone’s side story・メンバーのサイドストーリー［後編］を一回見よう。

Make a rare costume from the costume shop・衣装ショップでレア衣装を一着製作しよう。

Complete one challenge live・チャレンジライブを一回クリアしよう。

Take part in a virtual live once・チャレンジライブに一回参加しよう。

Use a virtual item once・バーチャルアイテムを一回使おう。

Change the costume of your virtual live avatar・バーチャルライブのアバター衣装を一回交換しよう。

Set three title achievements・称号を合計３つ設定しよう。

Rank up someone’s master rank once・メンバーのマスターランク を��回ランクアップしよう。

Level up someone’s skill once・メンバーのスキルを一回レベルアップしよう。

Select alternate vocals for a live and clear it・アナザーボーカルを選択してライブを一回クリアしよう。

Set up data transfer with a non-password method・パスワード以外でデータ引き継ぎ設定をしよう。

Title Achievements:

39! - Clear 39 lives・ライブを39回クリアしよう。

3939! - Clear 3939 lives・ライブを3939回クリアしよう。

Fully Qualified - Raise your player rank to 50・プレイヤーランクを50まであげよう。

Perfect Attendance Award - Log in for 30 days straight・30日連続でログインしよう。

Been Here for a Long Time - Log in for 365 days in total・累積で365日ログインしよう。

The Other Voice - Unlock 10 alternate vocals・アナザーボーカルを１０曲解放しよう。

An Everyone Stan - Get the unit rank for all units to level 20・全ユニットのユニットランクを20まで上げよう。

Item Master - Raise the level of 5 different area items to level 10・エリアアイテム５種類をレベル10まで上げよう。

I Love Everyone - Raise every character’s character rank to 5・全員のキャラクターランクを５まで上げよう。

Perfectionist - Complete 5 songs in every difficulty level・全難易度で５曲クリアしよう。

Initiation** - Full combo 30 songs on Master difficulty・難易度MASTERで３０曲フルコンボでクリアしよう。

True Initiation - All perfect 30 songs on Master difficulty・難易度MASTERで３０曲ALL PERFECTでクリアしよう。

Safety Comes First - Clear a live with your life bar at 2000・ライフ2000でライブをクリアしよう。

Never Give Up - Use the continue option 5 times in a live and clear it・一回のライブで5回以上コンティニューしてクリアしよう。

Tenosynovitis - Clear a live with a combo over 1000・コンボを１０００以上繋いでライブをクリアしよう。

Millionaire - Collect 1 million coins in total・コインを累積１００マン獲得しよう。

Full Combo with Everyone! - Have all 5 people in a multi live full combo the song・「みんなでライブ」で五人全員がフルコンボでクリアしよう。

Synchronicity - Have all 5 people in a multi live select the same song・「みんなでライブ」で五人全員同じ曲を選択しよう。

Doppelgänger - Have all 5 people in a multi live have one or more of the same title achievements・「みんなでライブ」で五人全員が同じ称号を１つ以上つけよう。

Greetings are Important - Send 1000 stamps in total through multi live・「みんなでライブ」でスタンプを1000回押そう。

Meetings and Farewells - Have had 100 members in the waiting room in total・控え室のメンバーを累積で１００人迎えよう。

Stamp Collector - Collect 30 different stamps・スタンプを３０種類集めよう。

I Know Everything - See 500 different Area Talks・エリア会話を５００種類見よう。

Reading Properly - Read 100 story episodes without skipping・ストーリをスキップしないで１００話読もう。

First Year High Schooler - Complete 100 lives with a team of 5 first years・1年生キャラクター五人を編成して100回ライブしよう。

Second Year High Schooler - Complete 100 lives with a team of 5 second years・２年生キャラクター五人を編成して100回ライブしよう。

Miyamasuzaka Girls Academy Student - Complete 100 lives with a team of 5 Miyamasuzaka Girls Academy students・宮益坂女子校キャラクター五人を編成して100回ライブしよう。

Kamiyama High School Student - Complete 100 lives with a team of 5 Kamiyama High School students・都立神山高キャラクター五人を編成して100回ライブしよう。

Boys Master - Complete 100 lives with a team of Tsukasa, Akito, Toya, Rui, Len or KAITO・司、彰人、冬弥、類、レン、KAITOのみで編成して100回ライブしよう。

MVP - Become the MVP in multi lives 100 times in total・「みんなでライブ」で『MVP』に100回なろう。

SUPER STAR - Become the SUPER STAR in multi lives 100 times in total・「みんなでライブ」で『SUPER STAR』に100回なろう。

Fashion Leader - Collect 50 different costumes・衣装を５０種類獲得しよう。

Leo/need Cheer Team - Get your cheer points at a virtual live where Leo/need members perform to reach 5000 in total・Leo/needメンバーが出演しゅるバーチャルライブで応援ポイントを累計5000達成しよう。

MORE MORE JUMP! Cheer Team - Get your cheer points at a virtual live where MORE MORE JUMP! members perform to reach 5000 in total・MORE MORE JUMP!メンバーが出演しゅるバーチャルライブで応援ポイントを累計5000達成しよう。

Vivid BAD SQUAD Cheer Team - Get your cheer points at a virtual live where Vivid BAD SQUAD members perform to reach 5000 in total・Vivid BAD SQUADメンバーが出演しゅるバーチャルライブで応援ポイントを累計5000達成しよう。

Wonderlands x Showtime Cheer Team - Get your cheer points at a virtual live where Wonderlands x Showtime members perform to reach 5000 in total・ワンダーランズxショウタイムメンバーが出演しゅるバーチャルライブで応援ポイントを累計5000達成しよう。

25-Ji, Night Code de Cheer Team - Get your cheer points at a virtual live where 25-Ji, Night Code de members perform to reach 5000 in total・２５時、ナイトコードで。メンバーが出演しゅるバーチャルライブで応援ポイントを累計5000達成しよう。

Virtual Singer Cheer Team - Get your cheer points at a virtual live where Virtual Singer members perform to reach 5000 in total・バーチャル・シンガーメンバーが出演しゅるバーチャルライブで応援ポイントを累計5000達成しよう。

Notes:

*finished the mission so I’m not 100% sure about the japanese. 99% sure it’s not correct so please let know what the correct one is!

**thank you to rose from the project sekai discord for helping with this!

[bishie-haven]

Dreamy Aquarium: What Should You Play?

Hey, Princesses and Princes! Hope you're having a great evening...or morning...or aftern-WHATEVER you have right now, I hope it's good! It'd better be, because we're about to dive into Aipocalypse 3.0 Ai's first Collection Event!

NOW, there is a LOT to go over with this 2nd edition of “What Should You Play?”, as KLab has made my life a living hell both in the past month and at this very moment. From the addition to Crowd-Pleaser songs in each half of the event to a change in points needed for certain rewards, calculating the most efficient plan for success to get the crazy little android has been a bit of a challenge. Even though I’m not planning on tiering myself (Tokiya kinda put me through hell and back last week...), I know a lot of you in the Royal Court ARE, so I want to help you in any way I possibly can! So, if you are aiming to get 2/3 of the Kawaii Team, listen up!

IMPORTANT REMINDER

While I did say that there were a few things that are changing, there is one thing that remains the same: If you do not have enough Collection Points over the event period to afford more than 7 Event Song Passes... DO NOT PLAY THE EVENT SONG MORE THAN ONCE A DAY!!

I will repeat this until the cows come home, please do not make this mistake. As much as you like Synchronism, do not fall for its charms and wait instead!

SO, before I discuss Plans A and B of attack for this event, I will discuss the two things I mentioned in the intro that affected my calculations:

Crowd-Pleaser Songs

In each half of the event, three selected songs have an increased rate of gaining Event Points and Collection Points. In this event’s case, it’s Triangle Beat, Haru Hana, and The New World for the 1st half, and Quartet Night, Innocent Wind, and Andromeda de Kuchizuke O for the 2nd half. While I cannot say exactly how many points you will gain by doing Crowd-Pleasers, I can give an estimate of the percent increase.

To do this, I took two songs of the same attribute, one as a normal song and the other as a Crowd-Pleaser (Maji Love 1000% and Triangle Beat). Then, I created a team that would be almost identical in terms of Leader/Singer bonuses, and I played both songs back-to-back, Ultimate Comboing them both. And by using the number of Event Points and Collection Points obtained from each song, I calculated that a Crowd-Pleaser song gives an estimated 10% more Event Points, and an estimated 15% more Collection Points.

Now, while that may seem like a signal to go “Let’s just do Crowd-Pleaser songs the whole time!”, don’t jump to that conclusion. I will explain later in the post as to why that’s not always the best option.

Point Adjustment

KLab has decided to do a few things when it comes to the Event Point Exchange. You can no longer exchange for Event Story chapters, as they are now given as rewards for clearing point missions, you don’t have to go to your present box to get bonus corsages and passes, and...the amount of  Event Points needed to unlock the UR has changed.

Yes, they are making it even harder to get through the Aipocalypse’s third round in one piece, as instead of needing 190,000 points to unlock the UR, you now need 200,000 points. Why they have done this is not 100% provable, but it is something we now must work around, nonetheless (I understand not shifting the number down to make up for the Event Story passes, but why move it UP?!).

So with these points out of the way, let’s move on to the Plans of Action!

Plan A: Two for One

While Tokiya and Ranmaru’s event left us up to dry in this aspect, Ai and Natsuki’s hands it to us on a silver platter! Both of these boys are in one of the fastest songs in the game, Triangle Beat, at only 1:16! And along with this, it is a Crowd-Pleaser song for the first half of the event, so take advantage of this as much as you can!

Plan B: Separate and Swift

While Plan A is ideal, I will also offer a Plan B for those getting really bored of the unit song. For Ai, like any other Quartet Night member, it’s best to go for Poison Kiss (at 1:15). Although, another possible option is Tsukiakari no Dearest, with a time of 1:33. In Natsuki’s case, two good ideas are Andromeda de Kuchizuke O (which is also a Crowd-Pleaser in the 2nd half!) at 1:31, and Maji Love 1000% at 1:40. 

Crowd-Pleaser Disclaimer

I had said earlier that I would explain why immediately pouncing on the Crowd-Pleasers to get your points is not wise, and now is the time. While an increase of points sounds nice on paper (and it usually is), sometimes it can be inefficient if you measure how long it takes to do a song. To explain this, let me give you an example:

I play a normal song and a Crowd-Pleaser, say for this example Tsukiakari no Dearest and Haru Hana (as they both have the same attribute and serve the same purpose of completing a song with Ai as the singer). I complete the first on 3x Pro and get a total of 2000 Event Points and 1500 Collection Points (this is just an example of a possible number, this is not the amount you would get for this song). Using the 10% and 15% increase estimate, I would get 2200 Event Points and 1725 Collection Points for the second. That seems fine and well, but here’s the thing...Haru Hana takes 2:17 to complete, while Tsukiakari no Dearest uses 1:33. In a little over 11 minutes, you could play five rounds of the Crowd-Pleaser, but seven rounds of the normal song. Following these numbers, you would gain 11,000 Event Points and 8,625 Collection Points for doing Haru Hana...but if you chose Tsukiakari no Dearest, you would gain 14,000 Event Points and 10,500 Collection Points in around the same amount of time! Now do you see why I care so much about time?

So because of this, I will be doing two things from now on:

I will be listing the time it takes to do the Crowd-Pleaser songs in the post, so that it can be shown what is a viable option and what is an effective time-waster.

If there is a possible change that is more efficient, I will split up my Daily Efficiency section into two halves, to cover each part of the event.

With this in mind...

“Dreamy Aquarium” Crowd-Pleaser Songs 1st Half

Triangle Beat-1:15 (Play!)

Haru Hana- 2:17 (DO NOT Play!)

The New World- 1:40 (Play!)

2nd Half

Quartet Night- 2:03 (Don’t Play...)

Innocent Wind- 1:34 (Play!)

Andromeda de Kuchizuke O- 1:31 (Play!)

With these factors in play, if you want to get as many lavender corsages as possible, here is what you need to achieve daily efficiency!

Daily Plays

Day 1-Day 4 (1st half) (Plan A) Triangle Beat: 8 times Synchronism: 1 time (Plan B) Poison Kiss/Tsukiakari no Dearest: 7 times Andromeda de Kuchizuke O/Maji Love 1000%/The New World: 8 times Synchronism: 1 time

Day 4 (2nd half)-Day 7 (Plan A) [Same as 1st half] (Plan B) Poison Kiss/Tsukiakari no Dearest/Innocent Wind: 7 times Andromeda de Kuchizuke O/Maji Love 1000%: 8 times Synchronism: 1 time

If you are still with me after reading this novel, then congratulations! You now have the survival tips and tricks to getting through the changed, treacherous seascape and snagging some new cards as painlessly as possible!

While I wish Ai had the voice of a siren that allows us to come right to him, it does not work that way. For many of us, he has been proven to make us work to be in his company. So, I hope that I have given you all the clearest map possible for you to swim away on your journey. 

Good luck, and I hope to see you Princesses and Princes again soon!

[reuska]

Reuska’s FEH Headcanon Time No.2: Geir (Book II Finale edition)

Gathering energy to draw something bigger, let me explain why I hyped so much about the final chapter and throw another piece of my HC at you.

First, let’s sum up some info about Geir.

Geir of Dufansdarl is an OC of mine.

He is the original Summoner from approx 2 millenia ago.

Askran nobility, born to a couple of Askr and Embla bloodlines (but neither of his parents was the main royal line).

This union happened to bless him with a unique skill - to travel between worlds at will (aka open and close gates - combo of Askran and Emblan abilities). His special ability had one unparalleled bonus: he could actually travel to the mythical, unreachable “magicless” realm, Earth.

Scholar, blue mage, smart jerk. Arrogant, selfish, pleasure-hunting womanizer.

He sworn his loyalty to Askran king but when called for help during an emergency, he betrays his oath - as he takes his time to come (= Loki aka Lady Mischief came to seduce him to prevent him from going and he gives his bed priority). His absence has terrible consequences which result in the king’s death and the curse of Embla bloodline. (Details to be shaped)

The queen performs a rite to call Askr’s wrath on Geir. The dragon curses Geir and turns him into Breidablik, puts him to sleep in a shrine until the right time comes for him to undo his mistakes. He also seals Geir’s castle Dufansdarl near the border with Embla and generally erases all but vague knowledge of his existence. He keeps Geir’s cape in the shrine and through prophets creates a myth of the Summoner who would come in the time of need.

The curse re-shaped Geir’s abilities (since they came from an original gift of the dragons, Askr could manipulate them at his will). When Geir is awoken at the beginning of FEH story, his mind travels to Earth and he handpicks Reuska because she can use a gun, she has decent strategic mind and at the same time appears as a chicken Geir would be easily able to control.

Reuska is vulnerable in many ways but she certainly isn’t the type to get herself manipulated. Quite the opposite. Geir finds himself in a mind connection and constant presence of someone he collides with in pretty much everything. The two getting along is a long journey but it has invaluable moral impact on Geir.

He IS feeling guilty for his failure back in his time. At first he is in a state of denial and just wants Reuska to get the job done asap to set him free. He refuses to communicate with anyone else and tries to avoid any thoughts on why. But as the Order grows on him, especially the royal siblings who inherited the burden of his betrayal, he is less and less reluctant to admit his errors, to himself at least. He begins to change.

But he keeps his identity to himself - he would probably never tell anyone. Reuska has to figure out his identity herself and he forces her to promise she wouldn’t tell anyone. Alfonse eventually figures out Breidablik has a conscience due to him overhearing Reuska “talking to herself” several times. Upon him asking, Geir allows Reuska to introduce him but he doesn’t speak to Alfonse himself (guilt). And he never tells them his backstory.

Now to the point.

Geir functionates thanks to Reuska’s energy (that’s how Askr set things up anyway). They have no idea about this for months because he uses only little of it as he’s just “mental energy”. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t digest, nothing - he just thinks and “scans” the sorroundings in approx 30m diameter. Reuska does suffer from light chronic weariness but they both always connect it with her not being used to this new lifestyle.

Eventually Gunnthrá starts visiting Reuska’s dreams. She reaches for the part of Reuska’s mind where Geir resides - he actually protects Reuska from having nightmares, she would certainly have them otherwise. Geir can’t stop Gunnthrá even though he tries (he has no idea who she is). But seeing her reflection and listening to her voice, he platonically falls in love with her. It is a different emotion than he ever felt for a woman, genuine affection instead of lust which was his drive back in his time.

When Surtr kills Gunnthrá (the first time they physically encounter her), Geir gets furious (a mix of pain, hatred and all the other emotions connected with the terrible event). Reuska is experiencing her own share of strong negative emotions and the two synchronize through these in a way they haven’t before. Geir gets an access to more of Reuska’s energy and uses it to (sort of) materialize into a weird, translucent, glowing humanoid object that manages to buy the group some time so they can retreat. Geir can’t get hurt in this state but his consumption of Reuska’s energy multiplies several times so he can keep it up only as long as she has enough energy to fuel him. Which is not long. Any hit he takes eqeals to even more energy taken from her.

This form fades out soon enough for Reuska to not faint but it still leaves her exhausted, barely able to move. From that event on, Geir uses this ability to shield Reuska from physical danger he can detect (he can’t detect long distance shots as the shooter is far from his “scanning” range - and magic just goes through him) which is very relieving to anyone in the Order as it gives her an extra protection. However, everyone must adjust to the drawback - which is exhausted and even more vulnerable Reuska afterwards. She usually falls asleep within minutes. One of her guard trio has to get her away asap, on horseback usually, where she sleeps in front of them.

So what happens in the finale?

Alfonse goes to face Surtr. Surtr can be killed at the time but he remains a mountain of muscle fueled by the Flames of Múspel. He’s a terryfying foe, much much larger than Al. But it’s the Flames that are a real problem. Combined with Surtr’s hits, they put immense heat + force load on Fólkvangr, a load the sword can’t take and it starts to crack.

Another hit would shatter it and kill Al but Geir prevents it. He uses his “immortal object” ability but instead of materializing, he jumps at Fólkvangr and covers it with a thin layer to keep its sharpness. Plus he still carries the Nífl blessing which dulls the Flames. Fólkvangr appears to glow with a blue light. The sword is shielded from damage, which, however, means the whole load shifts to Reuska. So Al and Geir have only tens of seconds to finish Surtr off.

Reuska tries her best to hold on as long as possible but Surtr’s first hit literally sends her down to her knees. She starts sweating immediately, breathes heavily and her pulse jumps up at the verge of heart attack. She manages to force the connection to stay up longer than usual which is enough for Al to finish the job. But she faints right after and sleeps for four days. She wakes up again on a cart they prepared for her transportation, already back in Askr.

(I came up with the Folkvangr enforcement idea just like three days ago and I was trying to pick a proper situation for it to happen. I was tempted to go for the final battle against Surtr but the chapter just confirmed everything including Alfonse being most likely the one to take Surtr down. And no further fighting after his death so Reuska would be safe. All the pieces just came together perfectly ♥)

[beauvoyr]

Lazy People’s Club for the Sleepy and Tired | 15

flowering | children of the end of the world

Pairings: Noctis/Reader Genre: Friendship/Romance/Friends-to-Lovers Tags: Fluff, Humor, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Abuse, Torture, asphyxiation, no beta we die like men, pre-Omen trailer route, pre-demon Noctis Chapter Suggestion: Read it on AO3 for cuter formatting during chat sequence. Chapter Rating: T Crossposted on: AO3 Summary: you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins you will love him to ruins

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You will love him to ruins.

HIS MORNING IS DIFFERENT NOW. Different, as in Noctis doesn’t have to drag himself out of bed at 5.30 just so he’d make it to Gladio’s training session on time. That and he doesn’t have to struggle with rousing the cat from her nap, which is a codename for waking you up and getting a swish of claws in return. These past few days taught him how to dodge unpredictable attacks better than his Shield ever did. Ignis checks up on him at 7.30, giving him more time to grumble about the too-damn-early Contemporary Management class that’s only available at 8.30 only on Mondays and Wednesdays. Noctis picks up on his dull routine of brushing his teeth, yawning under the hot shower, shucking on whatever shirt and pants combo he can locate in his closet, and hauls his backpack with another yawn.

The ride to Lucis U has Ignis filling him in on the council updates, boring stuff that has him yawning four times in twenty minutes of morning traffic, and manages a bleary nod once his Advisor sees him off at Block B. As a senior, most of the fresh-eyed juniors gawk at him the moment he strides through the hallways, scanning the doors for BU 3-1. He’s the prince, he kinda gets that a lot, not that anything’s changed over his entire lifetime. They don’t care about him past his title, and he doesn’t see why he should care either. Noctis occupies the seat farthest from the board, saves some space for Prompto, and checks up on his planner. If it’s up to him, he’d never get himself something as posh as leather-bound, but this was all a conspiratorial gift by none other than Ignis in final hopes that it’d instill some orderly sense into Noctis.

But did it work?

Probably, seeing how he had his final timetable scrawled in one of the front pages in case of discrepancies—

—oh.

Prompto’s not taking this elective with him. Right. He signed up for Media and Journalism since he figured his photography skills would come in handy, babbling all about it when they were filling up the subject registration form last semester. That kind of sucks, now that he thinks about it. If Prompto’s not here, then he can’t steal naps when the lecturer’s not looking. And he can’t skim through the lecture notes Prompto’s jotted down amidst all his lazy doodling. And they can’t coordinate where to grab their lunch because Lucis U’s menu dates back to M.E. 358, all sloppy mashed potatoes and premature beans on every other day, ugh.

Shutting his planner, Noctis slumps over his desk as the other students begin to file in. Some are vaguely recognizable faces, like that guy with the mohawk or that girl with a birdlike laugh, while rest are an assortment of squashed noses and sharp jaws and droopy eyelids, people who recognize him from afar, people who never approach in the end. There is an unspoken line drawn between them and him, separating the prince from its people.

Chin on the scratched desk, Noctis slips out his phone and puts it on silent, knowing the misery of abandonment all too well.

N: hey P: morning noct!!! dude im so psyched for medjourn omg N: lol nerd P: no rly lol P: we’re getting pruvia drusus P: u remember that segment at 9? on 8tv? P: she goes undercover and infiltrates drug cartels, yakuza houses??? badass stuff???? armed w/ only a camera?????

Noctis searches the depths of his head for a semblance of connection to this Pruvia person, finds that he doesn’t even know the channel 8TV exists prior to Prompto’s yammering, and sighs.

N: no idea, sorry P: aw man u missed out big time. she kicks ass  P: cuz she’s gonna be teaching us this sem!!! N: what really P: yea man! special contract only this sem and first come first served, limited seats blablabla u know the deal

That mad dash Prompto did just to submit his form at the counter last semester? Bouncing on his feet the moment the registrar gave it a once-over and nodded? And that little fistpump he did at the end of it? Yeah, all of that totally made sense now.

N: is it too late to congratulate you P: naw it’s never too late!!! P: thanks noct!!!!

A loud bang and the lecturer abruptly enters, setting down a folder heavy with paper, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else than here. Noctis shares that sentiment too; he’s starting to miss his bed a little too much. Madam Yoshino Faustus is a middling lady with three large rocks on three different fingers and they glimmer each time she waves her hand about, the hallmark of a nobility gone rogue, throwing out the Lady in her to adopt Madam instead. He’s had her two semesters ago, an encounter in Introduction to Conflict Management that ended with Noctis scoring an A- despite slamming into classes an hour after she started, all thanks to his notorious oversleeping skills. Her squinting sweep over the entire room to take in the faces of her future victims tells Noctis that this semester is going to be even worse than the last one.

“Usus magister est optimus,” her lilting voice begins, and by the number of times she always recited that phrase in every class, Noctis knows it by heart to remember one thing: Practice is the best teacher, a motto she lives by. “All right, let’s do a little roll call, just to make sure everyone’s here today and nobody’s signing for their friends,” she drones on, consulting the name list of those registered under her class, a true veteran who thwarts every student’s attempt on playing hooky. “Albel Williams?”

“Here.”

Noctis turns to his phone when she belts out a few more names.

N: yoshino’s here P: same P: pruvia’s here too omg im pumped

Which means Prompto’s replies are going to get increasingly spaced out by the seconds as he enjoys Pruvia’s class while his best friend is withering away here. Great. Resigning himself to enjoy his own company, Noctis logs into King’s Knight. CONNECTING TO SERVER circles endlessly on his screen with pixelated Ray Jack, Kaliva, Barusa, and Toby marching to the beat, brandishing their weapons. After what seems to be minutes—when it’s only seconds, really, Noctis tends to exaggerate when it gets boring—he’s all logged into the game, scrolling through the dev notes and checking today’s quests. He harvests his Zell trees for free cash, a thoughtful gesture once-per-day meant to aid the newcomers, and then he goes to his FRIEND screen, where—

“Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum?” the lecturer calls out in a tone that suggests she sees him with his phone out. “Are you with us?”

Prince. Right. He really needs to make a special decree just for stopping people from calling him that in class. Noctis straightens up his slouch, looks her in the eye like a dutiful student and the proud son of King Regis, doing his perfected princely nod. One sharp bob of his head, not a timid two. “Yep.”

Something about her adjusting her eyeglasses begs to differ, but she exhales all the same and moves on. “Noleva Mai?”

—he taps to his messaging application and tries to hide his grimace.

N: yoshino saw me texting RIP P: yoshino more like yoshiknows

Noctis resists the urge to snort out of the imminent knowledge that Madam Yoshino might start chucking markers at him like all teachers do in anime, and sends out a last message.

N: lol catch you later then N: have fun with pruvia P: thanks noct! P: u have fun w/ yoshi-no-no too!!!

Swapping back to King’s Knight, Noctis checks on his mini friend list. There’s Prompto but he’s offline, as expected. Gladio’s never online unless Noctis is the one badgering him to go on a raid with him and Prom, so Barusa’s all greyed out on the screen like Prompto’s Toby. He scrolls a bit more, searching for a glowing Kaliva rocking a skull-tipped weapon and oozing sheer badassery, but. It’s all greyed out too.

Well. He didn’t expect that.

The lecturer’s already scratching her name on the whiteboard and it reads Madam Yoshino Faustus in case anyone’s a newbie, then she’s already jumping into the first chapter listed in the pro forma because that’s how seniors roll on their first day in the final semester, all badass and probably dying by the end of the term. Noctis swallows a groan, watches Madam Yoshino put up some drab slides of black text on white background, and turns back to King’s Knight.

It probably doesn’t hurt to text you before he puts his phone away.

TO: THE ARCHITECT FROM: NOCTGAR SUBJECT: [none] MESSAGE: wake up.

He only hopes you’ll get back to him soon enough.

the jump from high school syllabus to university courses is something most people spend an average of a month to synchronize with the rhythm of building properly cited reports and bookmarking journal archives on their computers. you are fourteen and you only had a week. a week of the pinch-faced man running his fingers over your documents before handing byron your necessary textbooks, listing out your learning outcomes from the top of his head, and diving headfirst into your workload. he is only paid to teach you, not to make you understand, so he packs his briefcase by eleven and leaves for his next lecture on campus.

this is how you learn.

at six you rise, eating breakfast thirty minutes later. by seven you are dressed and sitting at your desk, reading your texts in advance before the lecturers arrive. eight a.m. they enter, an assortment of he, she, they, names you do not memorize. lessons end thirteen hours later, interspersed bites of meals squeezed in between your lecturers’ arrival. byron cleans as you wash up, readying a dinner that you nibble in between glances of your assignments. the clock chimes twelve. sometimes you sleep on your books. most of the time you do not sleep at all.

flipping through ancient solheim and decoding the dead language, you occasionally catch yourself muttering under your breath. “i’m an idiot. i’m an idiot. i’m an idiot.”

byron stops fiddling with his feather duster and corrects you softly, a pitiful look in his silent eyes. “to me, you are the most intelligent person i’ve ever had the honour of meeting, milady.”

what good does intelligence bring you? it is a word that has lost its meaning. intelligence bring you crippling thoughts of no i can’t do this no i don’t want to do this anymore no i want to stop please. intelligence makes you jump at every passing minute, dreading the moment he she they step in, posing a question designed to unveil your idiocy. intelligence has your bed collecting dust, dust that byron obediently expels with zeal.

so tell me, what good does intelligence bring me?

you must’ve vocalized the question, for byron shakes his head and corrects you again. “milady, i never had the chance to go to school.” he meets your eyes like it is the most natural thing for a twenty-seven-year-old man to remain uneducated, while you are fourteen and too educated for the world to appreciate. “one of the men i worked with taught me to read and write, then basic maths once i know the difference between bemused and amused. my first salary was only 50 gil, so i spent some on books and veggies, and saved the rest in my tin can. by the time i had close to a few hundred gil in my savings, i bought this beautiful leather-bound diary and a pen i saw in this stationery shop, and taught myself some cursive from the old man at the bus stop.” with a voice that doesn’t quite match the melancholy on his face, he turns his back to you and resumes dusting your bookcase. “so please, do not think so lowly of yourself. you are worth so much more to me.”

all at once, you are ashamed. ashamed of yourself for whining at him for the scratches on your palms when he has welts on his body. you are fourteen when you realize you are blessed in all your misery. while it doesn’t make things any better with father pretending your existence is nullified, nor does it have the manservants respect you any better, you have byron.

byron who has nothing else left in life than you.

NOCTIS QUICKLY COMES TO THE CONCLUSION that the final semester sucks.

Four days. Four days is all it takes for Noctis and Prompto to find out that downing 12 cans of Ebony in 3 hours will send Prompto into a twitchy mess, then embarking on an adventure with marathoning four whole seasons of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure blasting from the TV. Ignis isn’t quite pleased to find his stashed Ebony raided with no cans left to spare, though he refrains himself from berating them when they’ve finally finished compiling the report and slides for Strategic Management, a compulsory core unit both he and Prompto couldn’t ward off with credit transfer. Ever dutiful, Ignis takes up the task of sweeping pizza crumbs under the sofas, separating cans of energy drinks from plastic bottles for recycling, and pulls his sleeves to his forearms, banishing grease from the plates.

By the time Friday rolls around, Prompto’s draped over the cushion, a fine imitation of a corpse. Noctis, on the other hand, doesn’t recall how exactly he found his bed—or rather, his arm found it while he died on the floor. Over a box of cereal and some morning Malboro cartoon, they both agreed that the first week is shit—“Is that why all our ex-seniors looked like they died three years even before their final sem started?” Prompto asks aloud, then bursting into melodramatic tears when Noctis, in stately somberness, nods—and consoled each other with Ignis’ freezer-wrapped meals. When dusk falls, Noctis catches up on a solid fourteen more hours of sleep, while Prompto finally went home for the first time in decades.

Saturday. Ignis, bless him, decided to let Noctis sleep in a little past ten a.m. and only woke him up once it shows eleven on his watch. Gladio wants all of them back in the training hall for some ‘relaxed sparring’ to ‘polish on teamwork’ after ‘taking a long break’, a lie that Noctis could smell even if the Citadel’s miles and miles away from his apartment. Still, they picked up an unwilling Prompto from his house, sat through the crawling Insomnian traffic, reverse-parked in the prince’s underground bay, and ended up in the training room all the same.

Prompto is the first one to throw the door open, all singsong. “Gladi—oh.” And then he stops short. His hand falls off the doorknob like it burns him, jammed right in the pocket of his sweatpants. “Wow, uh. Hey. Architect. Hey, uh, Architect’s butler…?”

Ignis is only a step away from Prompto, a gentle hand landing on Prompto’s back to guide him into the training hall, spurring him out of his statuesque stand. The blond awkwardly slinks in with the Ignis in tow, who is all serene calmness even though he’s surveying the floor in great interest behind his spectacles. He, too, waits for an answer.

“Byron the butler, in case you forgot,” the mess of white offers, all smiles.

Something about that has Prompto paling faster than slapping a monochrome filter on a picture. Blue eyes are skittish, darting from one side to the other as he pulls the worst kind of smile that’s undoubtedly jumpy. “Uh. Right, Byron, nice to see ya again. And uh,” he nods over to the last party member, “who’s that guy?”

“Nyx, Nyx Ulric,” Gladio answers from the other end, as gruff as always. “Noct, get your ass in here so we can start.”

He can definitely count on his Shield to be an ass about this. “Shut up, I know.”

So. What Noctis sees once he finally reaches the hall are four people. It’s hard to miss out Gladio, so naturally he’s the first person Noctis picks out from the floor, a crooked grin on his scarred face as he waves them in. As much as Noctis doesn’t want to see your butler again, Byron’s there for who knows what reason, substituting his fitted suit for a sharp ensemble of button-up shirt and khakis. There’s also some uniformed Glaive seated cross-legged beside him, all handsome ruggedness with his hair slicked back, trailing down his shoulders in little braids. Presumably the one called Nyx, since nobody else fits that description. He has the look of a predator if Noctis doesn’t know any better, minute tattoos dotted under his eyes, and decked in too much leather to be just a normal guy.

Noctis lets his blue eyes stray from the stranger and drift up grey sweatpants and a shirt too loose, clothes that he’s long accustomed to. You. For some reasons, when he sees the smallish smile gracing your face and the familiar glaze in your eyes when he meets your gaze, something stirs in him. Something like a bad stomachache—no, that’s not it. Something like overeating and getting nauseous—no, that’s not it either. It’s something knocking inside him, asking to be heard, except he has no idea what it is. But it makes him conscious of the way he’s returning your look with a slight wave—then turning it into some weird wilting of his fingers once the deed’s done—and then turning into an awkward rub of his nape.

At any rate, he joins all of them on the floor, sitting in a crude circle, feigning ignorance at your keen peeking every once in a while. It’s not like he hasn’t been talking to you in these past few days and it’s not like he’s ignoring you on purpose, Astrals no. Classes have been hard, sure, but King’s Knight bridged the gap between his physical distance with you. You texted him your training regimen, he texted you his day, you gave him pointers on how to draw up a report that netted him Madam Yoshino’s compliments, and he shared some room IDs for you to join his raids with Prompto. Normal, casual interactions, no red sirens anywhere, so he shouldn’t be on red alert like this. But it’s all a lie. If anything, it’s the way things are going that makes him a little too hyperaware of that persistent knocking in him each time he ignores your fleeting peeks.

Maybe he’s just thinking too much about this.

Things are normal. Things are casual. Things have been both normal and casual.

But things are different with how you’re here with Byron, finally giving up on catching his attention and turning to that Glaive instead.

Your friendliness is infectious and it doesn’t help that Nyx practically established no walls with you. He murmurs something, you listen, he murmurs a bit more, then you stifle a laugh behind your hand. Thankfully it hasn’t devolved into anything remotely touchy-feely that would’ve trespassed some borders for Noctis, but it sure as hell looks like the guy is a long lost friend catching up to years and years of chatter. And you’re all too honest with your feelings these days, smiling that same smile of yours at Nyx. That very same smile you were once reluctant to share with anyone else but him.

Noctis turns away, picking off the little thoughts overrunning inside like they’re ants swarming a crumb.

He’s being ridiculous. That’s what it is. He should be proud of your progress in making friends instead of feeling like he missed out on something in the days he hadn’t spent by your side. This whole thing is just all in his head and he should forget about it. His eyes drag over the opposite end where you sit, tracing over the docile quirk of your lips as words are whispered to Nyx, who turns it into a joke of some sort for you to laugh over. The searing flash jolting up his nerves is immediate, forcing Noctis to look away.

Yeah, he should definitely forget about it.

Gladio finally steals the moment by clapping once and Noctis is more than willing to fix the Shield his attention to end his thoughts. “All right, listen up. First off, meet Ulric. He’s a senior member of the Glaive—Kingsglaive,” Gladio tacks on a bit of an explanation once Prompto goes bug-eyed at the new term. “Elite soldiers who risk their lives to protect Lucis, Prom. They’re war veterans out there, fighting to keep people like us safe in Insomnia.”

“Too much credit, Gladio,” Nyx counters, sounding modest even if the mischievous grin on his face never went away. “Just doing my job. You guys must be the Prince’s entourage; Prompto Argentum,” he starts from clockwise, “Ignis Scientia, and His Royal Highness, Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum. Pleasure to meet you all.”

As Prompto and Ignis echo some pleasantries, Noctis can’t even bring himself to nod. Glaives are part of his dad’s legion of protectors even if the Crownsguard are bodyguards for the royal family. At the first signs of Niflheim’s forces stirring unrest outside Insomnia, the Glaives are the frontliners fending them off. On days they don’t get any action, Noctis knows some of them are tasked with tailing him from afar if he’s out in town, harnessing the power of the Crystal through his dad just to make sure they remain out of sight by scaling walls and such.

So what’s he doing here?

Unfortunately, Noctis finds no answer as Gladio moves on.

“And this guy right here,” the Shield thumbs at Byron, who’s gone ahead and braided his hair out of disinterest at the droll conversation, “is Byron, the little lady’s butler. Think of him as the older, pissier Iggy.”

“Flattered with the description.” Unconcerned, Byron continues braiding his ponytail like it’s the most natural thing to do, elegant fingers deft with its handiwork and twining one lock after another. You hide a smile behind your fingers, though it doesn’t escape Byron’s watchful eyes as he huffs not unkindly. “It means there are at least four levelheaded people in this ragtag band of,” he searches the ceiling for answers, “young adults. Young, moody adults.”

Is that a jab at him? Whatever it is, it has Noctis scowling after taking the bait, arms crossing over his chest. “As if you’re not a young adult yourself.”

Byron makes an expression of dramatized outrage, clicking his tongue like a mother hen, severely scandalized at the thought. “What a compliment, I must appear younger than I look. With all due respect, Nyx and I are the only full-fledged adults around here. We’re both well over our thirties.” He draws up his chin in disdain, sneering Noctis’ way. “The lot of you are simply children to us.”

Thirty—Noctis almost sputters at the words crossing his mouth, but Prompto groans and presses a hand to his forehead. “Gladio’s right,” he grumbles, “Byron is an older and pissier version of Ignis. Ugh, talk about two Iggies.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing,” says Ignis ruefully. He gestures to the rest of the members of this odd gathering, himself included, and inclines his head towards Nyx—who, by now, is already taking in their exchange with a wry grin of his own. “Do forgive them, the children can be quite excitable in presence of new companions.”

Nyx props his head up and clears his throat, eyes bright. “Nah, not at all. Just happened to be assigned for patrolling in my new roster and heard loud noises—weird loud noises,” he corrects himself, nodding your way, “and the rest is history. Nowadays I just check them out every now and then to make sure they’re not getting into trouble.”

“You got the small kid to blame for the weird loud noises,” Gladio heartily thumps your back as you vibrate from the sheer force of it, scowling Byron’s way.

“Well, I wouldn’t have made those ‘weird loud noises’ if someone wasn’t trying to detach my spine from my hip.”

Byron deflects your lethal glare with the look of a customer service representative sent to deal with a particularly pesky customer, never once acknowledging the blame. “Milady, you’re as flexible as a plank. You need to stretch more.”

“Pretty sure there’s a difference between helping and attempting murder,” you rebuke as Gladio turns his sympathetic back-patting into comforting head rubs instead. “What if I broke something and had to go to the ER?”

To which the shameless butler rolls his eyes and pretends examining the twines to his braid a far greater issue than your metaphorical dislocation. “You’re being overdramatic. Nyx, do me a favour as a fellow old man and tell her she’s being overdramatic.”

“I’d say no to the part with the old man,” Nyx shrugs at the betrayal, “but yes to the overdramatic part. It is what it is.”

Hopelessly ganged up by the two men, you sulk under Gladio’s petting and wither. “Gee, thanks guys. Real nice of you.”

Ignis surveys the friendly banter with raised brows, though he ventures no further on the matter. Prompto looks like he doesn’t know if it’d be his place to join in when Byron’s involved, and Noctis kind of gets what he’s thinking. The last time Byron meddled, things ended as well as someone’s funeral. Their collective silence works out for Gladio since it gives him a chance to lay out his plans for the day, starting from the not-so-subtle looks he’s been tossing Noctis’ way.

“All right guys, enough chitchat,” Gladio brings everyone to attention once again. “The reason why I called you all here today is because,” he gives a sharp look to Noctis, “Noct, we’re gonna give it a shot with attuning her to magic today, see how well she takes to it, and decide where she goes from there.”

And Noctis couldn’t help the way his brow arches automatically at that. “So that’s why you called me out here?”

“Ya got any other sibling out there who’s also the prince?” Gladio scoffs. “Of course you gotta do it, dumbass, she’s yours.”

His, huh?

That sounds nice for a change.

“Ohhhh boy, I’ll go grab The Bucket™ real quick,” Prompto groans, dragging a hand over his face as he scrambles to his feet. Met with your confused gaping, he only finger-guns your way and flits from the circle, rushing towards the showers. Cue clanging sounds, startled jumps, and epic sounds of scuffling before the blond emerges with a steel bucket dented at the side. He sets it down in front of you coolly, much to Nyx’s amusement.

And you’re all but fingering the suspiciously empty bucket at the rim, stumped. “What’s this for?”

Noctis knows what that’s for. Hell, Ignis and Gladio were both well-acquainted with The Bucket™ at some points, but they’re very much disinclined to acknowledge The Bucket’s™ existence since all it does is bring back bad memories. Bad memories of puking uncontrollably, Ignis wiping his mouth and hunching over The Bucket™, Prompto dropping dead into a faint after just touching Noctis, and The Incident That Must Not Be Named™ involving Gladio stumbling like a newborn anak fawn all across the training hall.

Well. This should be interesting.

“Not everyone can handle magic, even in trace amounts,” Nyx explains much to your gratification, fingernail tapping against the steel handle knowingly. It sets you into a mode of perpetual alarm, breathing shallowly, and Nyx chuckles even louder. “Calm down, you’re not gonna die or something. The worst that could happen is puking,” he lists off his fingers, “fainting, disorientation, or maybe all three.” He stops at the sheer horror crossing your eyes, shrugs, and finds it appropriate to add, “For a few days, I guess. We still have newer Glaives who puke when they land after warp-strikes, so that’s another case. Can’t get used to the thing if you don’t practice daily.”

Usus magister est optimus, the Yoshino in Noctis parrots. Practice, practice, and more practice. Practice even when he’s sick, practice even when Gladio served his ass in three different flavours, and practice even when his legs had failed him.

“Warp-strike is the thing where,” you chew on your bottom lip, all frowns, probably recalling the number of times he inadvertently showed you the move through his many practices, “you kind of throw your weapon somewhere and just—just end up warping there, right?”

Huh. Noctis just can’t help but to nod along when you throw a furtive glance his way as if confirming that’s the thing, right? At least you had been paying attention to him, that’s for sure. His skin prickles at the intriguing thought.

“All Glaives can warp since we utilize King Regis’ magic, and he’s strong enough to lend us his strength. Think of His Majesty as a conduit, it’s easier that way.” Nyx tilts his head over, lazy eyes ghosting over Noctis. His hardening stare threatens to expose him, yet he says nothing and is content to pick up the briefing where he stopped. “His Highness over here is also another conduit, but he’s only serving his retainers for now. So if you wanna get good, get practising.”

“It’ll also help if you haven’t had your breakfast,” Ignis points out, a knowing glint in his eyes. That’s definitely talking from experience right there. “If you’re rather famished by now, then it might be wise for us to begin right away.”

Byron finishes his braid with a bauble hair tie procured from his pocket, snapping it into place. He cycles through everyone’s expression for digestion and comes to a conclusion. “Since that’s everyone’s consensus, then we should start, milady. The sooner you start puking, the better, since I can clean up your mess before I start on lunch.”

“Someone has his priorities right,” Ignis agrees, meeting Byron’s eyes with a grateful nod sent his way, and Six, is his Advisor seriously getting along with the creep for your butler? Today is so not Noctis’ good day. “Come along now, Noct, hold your hand out to her. And you, Architect, do us all a favour and give Noct a hand.”

Prompto hoots and slaps Ignis’ back, who looked oddly pleased with himself for thinking up that one. Ugh. Whatever. He needs to get this over with. Noctis scoots over to where you sit at the same time you shift closer, both meeting at the halfway point. With all his friends and some random Glaive grinning wildly at the side, it feels a bit weird to do this—but not in the way where it’s getting uncomfortable—just slowly getting there, somewhat. It’d be better if he had some privacy in the first place for concentration, but he can’t be too picky with how the circumstances are playing out.

Theoretically, the Crystal’s magic seems can be condensed into the simple concept of eating. Right now, he’s simply letting you have a taste of the magic, just a lick or two for your tongue to learn the flavour. Later on when you’re much better off at it, you’d be able to eat all you want through him if you’d like it. And him? He’s not the one eating from the Crystal. The Crystal is the one eating him like how it ate his dad alive.

Everyone knows how it is, everyone saw how he hobbles with a cane for a crutch.

The spiderweb spreading on his father’s right, uprooting the little pale canvas he has to offer, says enough to Noctis that the doctor isn’t going to announce his cause of death as a natural cause. What little magic Noctis could afford to channel to his friends isn’t enough to let him share his dad’s burden. But he’ll get there sooner or later once the ring is sitting on his finger, once his friends are part of the council, once you’ve succeeded your father.

To start that off, you need this.

You need him.

Noctis holds out his hand to you, the standard procedure of channeling the Crystal’s magic through him as the conduit, and he can’t say he’s surprised when a familiar ice grazes his palm. Fingertips, as cold as The Glacian’s touch. He’s felt this before. The first time you brought his hand up to your face, letting him wrap his slim digits around your neck, icy manacles of your hands draining the warmth from his wrist. Do you still remember that day? He can’t tell, not when you’ve gone ahead and wiped the emotions clean from your face, slotting your palm over his.

“How romantic,” Byron drawls. “Romance movie of the year, ten out of ten.”

Gladio snickers and that asshole for your butler is smug with his achievement of riling the prince. Noctis makes a mental checklist to deck Byron later, just to demonstrate why he’s the Prince of Pain. Unaffected, you just side-eyed Byron as though you’re long used to his assholery, turning back to a pink-dusted Noctis. “Don’t mind him, Prince, he’s always a jerk.”

“Glad you’re suffering with me right now,” he snorts, earning some sort of a quiet huff of amusement under your breath. Once the racket settles down, he closes his eyes and lets the darkness reach out to him. Time to get his act together; it’s been a while since he’d done this. Hopefully soon enough, he’ll get to guide you through this without messing up. “All right, first thing you wanna do is close your eyes.”

“Ugh. Cliché.”

“Shut up Byron,” he hears you chide, Gladio cackling appreciatively at the unnecessary commentary. “Ahem. And then what, Prince?”

“Uh. Make yourself calm, at ease. Stuffs like that.” Totally not helpful, not that he’s good with words, but he’s been told that’s how it goes the last time he did it with Prompto. “When you feel calm and focused, then it’s a lot easier for you to reach out and feel things.”

“I…dunno Prince, all I’m feeling is how warm you are.”

That’s it? He must’ve been out of practice over all the months, damn. He catches Gladio muttering she said warm, huh? somewhere to his side, probably to Byron, and your butler’s snickering at you and him, totally getting a kick out of this. Champions of backseat everything, his friends. And your butler too, can’t forget about that. What are they, prepubescent kids? Clearing his throat, Noctis tries again, curling his fingers over the back of your hand. “Okay, try to concentrate on picking up something. Anything. Not the noise, not the warmth, just—“

“—like you’re trying to grab fish in the river,” Prompto pipes up to his left.

“No, it’s different,” Ignis points out, “it’s a transient feeling unlike any other. Almost like oxygen, it’s there, but it’s not seen to your eyes. Yet, it has always been there from the start.”

Noctis cracks his eyes open just a sliver before closing them again. “Guys, not helping.”

“Think of electricity,” Nyx supplies helpfully, and that’s more of an accurate description of the Crystal’s magic more than he could ever describe to you. Leave it to the pros to tell you how it is. “Flash of electricity, tingling under your skin and in your nerves. There should be a buzzing sound if you concentrate hard enough, and that’s the sound the Crystal makes. Like someone humming off-key, enough to make you aware of its presence, but low enough to fade into background noise. Think of blues and violets, if the colour helps you to imagine things. Put together that feeling and the electric colours when you search deep inside yourself.”

His lengthy explanation has you tightening your hold on Noctis’ hand, seizing him softly. In this darkness, he sees nothing. He hears nothing, once everyone falls wordless. Just like this, true to Nyx’s words, the Crystal’s distant hum beckons him, speaking in tones unintelligible to the human ears. The Crystal sustaining protection in Insomnia, the duty he carries as a prince to his people, everything as the Astrals ordained, bestowing salvation upon mankind, and so much more. Spikes of electric magic whizzes past, an ECG reading peaking from a flat, amaranthine bursting into blue—

—you squeeze his hand until pinpricks of pain sets in, and a gasp.

Noctis opens his eyes just in time to catch the dusts of magic reflected in your eyes—only, they are not blue, not his blue.

They are an infernal scarlet searing the blacks of your pupils.

He’s never seen that before.

And when you fall, he almost forgets to catch you.

titan, the archaean, steadfast as stone. ramuh, the fulgurian, sharp as lightning. shiva, the glacian, gentle as snow. leviathan, the hydraean, relentless as tides. bahamut, the draconian, unbending as iron. ifrit, the infernian, fickle as fire. since time immemorial, they have watched over eos.

cosmogony; the hexatheon.

EVERYTHING IS BURNING. The ground, the trees, the skies. Darkness and dust intermingle, clouds of smoke choking your mouth, scorching your lungs. Dry air strips moisture from your mouth. Nothing is alive, everything is razed to the ground. An abject sight of flames fanning over the hills, smothering steel into liquid. The blistering heat stings your skin and beads of sweat roll off your chest, but you do not care. Not when euphoria courses through your veins, rattling your fingertips with the intoxicating feel of victory. You throw your head back, scanning the melting horizon, searching for survivors that you know there wouldn’t be any.

You’ve made sure to eradicate every single one of them.

Down to their very last breath.

Wood crackles with fire gnawing through its crusty flesh, felling branches here and there. There is a sound, a displaced sound different from the rest. Footsteps. Heavy, booted footsteps, an uneven gait you’ve come to love and revere. You do not turn when arms snake around your waist, pulling you against a wall of bare chest. Liquid heat on your back, grimy hands leaving smudges of black across your torso, laving your flesh with ardent skims of flat palms and fingertips tracing circles on your skin. Something grazes your nape and ever pliant, ever worshipful, you tilt your head aside, broken, exposing your neck.

Dry lips descend on your skin, followed by a sharp nip of teeth, marking you.

This, right here in his arms, is where you belong.

Marked. Safe. His.

“We did it,” he murmurs throatily, and you groan your approval when his touches turn desperate, when his nips turn into bites, “we stopped them. You and me, just the two of us, we took them down.”

“Yes, yes we did,” you whimper, finding it hard to concentrate when he thumbs at your waistband, toying with the elastic. He restrains you tight, just like this, almost punishing in his strength—not that you mind it. You love it. You love him for the warning scratch of his fingernails digging through your skin, red welts rising from your unbroken skin. You love him for the way he runs his tongue over your earlobe, nipping at the shell, breathing hard in your ear. You love him even when he lunges a trident through a beautiful blonde, spattering her blood across his cheeks.

He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling with a ragged breath. “I love you.”

You know he means every word, for he loves as easily as he kills.

Eyes lidded, head resting against his chest, your hands dance across his fraught forearms and tangle with his fingers, filling in the gaps in between. This is a space made for you, meant for you, and nobody else will hold him like you do. He loves you. He completes you. He is you. Slowly bringing his hands to your face, you leave kisses on the bruises littering his knuckles, reverent. He is your Eos, he is your God, he is your King, and he is your Prince. He moulds you by his own two hands, filling the cavity with flowers for your lungs and honey in place of your blood. He deserves this corpse you call your vessel, down to your very last breath.

I love you is on your tongue, licking a stripe across his finger.

And he knows you love him too.

Turning in his arms, you crane your head to meet his heady gaze. Oh so wrecked, he stands stoic as his eyes bore into yours. Your sweet, wretched prince. Mirrored by the flames, there is a corrosive yellow to their quality, eroding his innocence. There is nothing innocent about him anymore. Gone are the Galdin blues; he has the eyes of the gold coins lost in the sea, a ring of scarlet rimming the edges. He’s beautiful, just as beautiful as the fire he starts. You cup his blood-crusted cheek and he leans into your touch, long black lashes fluttering in bliss, breathing his approval. His hand joins yours, holding you in place.

This is the world you ruined together with him, and there is no place better than Hell for the damned.

there once lived a man, born to a mortal but blessed with powers divine. conjuring a collection of glaives he dispelled the darkness plaguing our star. as a reward for his efforts, the god granted him a holy stone—the crystal, which he was to guard at all costs, for it would one day choose a king to see us through the coming disaster and lead us to salvation.

cosmogony; the crystal.

THE GLAIVE KNEW. Just one look and he knew. Noctis knows that look from anywhere—it was the same look everyone had when he strolled along in wheelchair, head downcast, never acknowledging the sympathy in their eyes. The fact remains that he isn’t as strong as King Regis to grant his entourage the same strength and magic the Glaives enjoyed. Yet in an effort to save face, Nyx withheld the judgment of a pro and offered your thoughts something else to ruminate. But what’s done is done. Noctis knows where he stands and it will never be on the same pedestal as the rest of the Glaives.

In the beginning, all was well. He was a child, but he was a prince, first and foremost. Afforded the luxuries many couldn’t ever since he could remember, but never the freedom other children had. “A prince shouldn’t dillydally shillyshally,” his tutor would click her tongue in disdain, brandishing a pen this way and that, marching up and down his room as Noctis pretends to be deeply engrossed in Lucian history just so she’d fade into a blur like one of the many wallpapers in his room. They all come and go just to stuff him full of knowledge as if education is a simple process of boiling textbooks into soups for him to devour. No matter how much they bore him to tears, they’ll never admit what they see: A young prince, hungering for the sun on his skin than the pages on his fingertips.

But he was weak.

After all, princes have to follow their father’s steadfast steps.

So what good was a prince who couldn’t walk?

Noctis has his back to the icy wall, but the scar on his spine burns white hot. He could just reach for it if he wants, searching under his shirt, feeling for the ridge where skin turns plastic.

Marilith.

His first taste of death came in a pool of red. Then came fear, shrouding him unlike any other fear he conquered. This was the monster under his bed, and it came for him. This was what it meant to be the prince of a kingdom, a price he paid in blood. This was death, and it wanted his life. The Crownsguard were diced into proportions by the Marilith’s blades, their coffins being the cars they drove in. Dying in place of the prince was regarded as the utmost honour one could hope to attain, but what good will a gold medal do to an empty coffin whose mangled corpse couldn’t even be retrieved? Nothing.

Things could’ve been different had Noctis not encountered that daemon. He replayed this scenario repeatedly, holding up the record to the sunlight to examine it in different angles as though a newer truth might unveil itself and undo what has been done. In another world, he never would’ve had to be wheeled around as an invalid, shoulders bearing the sympathies of many. Queen Sylva is never a casualty and Lunafreya wouldn’t be robbed of her parents, of her brother’s independence, leaving her as Niflheim’s prisoner. He never would’ve pushed everyone away just so they’re safe, safer where they are not a smudged scarlet on the floor. His nanny was an unforgettable example.

Anyone and everyone serving the royal line will be sacrificed for his safety. The Crownsguard, the Kingsglaive, the militia and the mass, all reduced to one thing: A fodder for his safety. Including his retainers, his friends. Ignis, Gladio, Prompto.

Ignis had been a staunch devout of an educationist in the very beginning. Graduated the top of his class in the Royal Academy during his earlier years, groomed into what they wanted him to be: His personal advisor. On paper, that is. In reality, Noctis craved the human touch Ignis possessed through their first handshake. Though duty remained a permanent distinction separating their friendship, Ignis isn’t as much as a stickler he could be at times. He’s the brain behind their nightly escapades out of the Citadel while Noctis is the brawn—or the one persistently convincing Ignis that it’s a good idea and they’re never going to get caught, thanks to his meticulous mapping of the Citadel’s hallways. They clambered through open windows, snuck past guards, and crawled in metal vents just for that small reward of the stars studding the night skies. And perhaps, for Ignis himself, the reward truly lies in Noctis’ brilliant smile.

Then there was Gladio.

Every swordsman marches into battle with a shield, just like how his dad has Clarus. The Amicitias, a lineage of Dobermans on a leash. All hard edges and buzzed haircuts, barking at Noctis’ shadow to pick up his pace. “Again,” he’d snarl after tossing Noctis into the air like a softball. “Again,” he’d groan when Noctis tripped over his parries and introduced his face to the hardwood for the umpteenth time this week. “Again,”, he’d scowl as the TV screen burns red with K.O. and Noctis fistpumps the air, seizing victory for the fifth time in a row. Again, and again, and again. They fought. They made up. And they fought again. Gladio gave him none of the niceties as his Shield. His reproaches bruised Noctis both literally and figuratively, hitting his body blue all the way to his heart. He’s nothing like Ignis’ thoughtful insights into Noctis’ tantrums, but strangely, Noctis doesn’t think he needs a second Ignis. Gladio’s okay just the way he is, all bites and barks and bruises too.

Along came Prompto.

His favourite animal? Chocobo. Favourite game? Assassin’s Creed, but he still can’t decide between Black Flag or Origins. His favourite subject to photograph? Noctis. Prompto jogs every morning, works part-time at the camera store up the City Square, eats all Noctis’ leftover greens. He’s the epitome of healthy living, an antithesis to Noctis’ snacks-and-soda galore. But the way the sun loves him, kissing his cheeks to leave freckles in her wake, bounding up the school gates to reach Noctis’ side, it’s a breath of fresh air for him. Nobody’s ever seen him like this before. Like they’re best friends from high school to university and more. Like he’s less of a prince and more of a person.

And then. You.

If he is the True King, then you are the Denied Daughter of the Andronicus. Unloved by your father, unrecognized by your family. Willing to be banished from the comforts a noblewoman should enjoy, retreating to the safety of the Citadel. But did you complain? No, you probably don’t even have time to entertain such thoughts. You’re too busy with chasing your dreams just to succeed your father, to complete your thesis, to live life unlike what you experienced before. You’ve smiled, you’ve laughed, you’ve made friends, and you’ve tasted what he offered. You swore to climb the ranks just to serve him. Who is he to deny you what you want?

Noctis casts a glance at your figure lying prone, head on Byron’s lap.

He knows the risk he takes each time he laces their lives with magic. All the fainting and retching as the average human body adjusts to the Crystal’s intrusion. All the hardships in the future that Niflheim brings. All the lives he might lose. It is a promise that his shared strength will serve as both protection not only for him, but for his friends as well. Senior Glaives commanded the Crystal’s magic through his dad, who also bore the brunt of sustaining the barrier doming Insomnia. The strain shows well enough through accelerated ageing and declining health, something Noctis had closely witnessed in the years that passed. The king suffers as much as his people do. Soon enough, it’ll be his turn. His turn to put on the ring and become the 114th King of Lucis.

And to do that, he needs to be strong, stronger than his father, stronger than the Glaives, and strong enough to protect everyone who risked their lives for him.

Such is the fate of the True King.

The first signs of your consciousness start with a sound, stealing his attention. A soft, weak moan. Noctis uncurls himself from where he’s lounged by the walls, perking up. You rose from your fainting like you rose from your slumber, all sleepy yawns while rubbing your eyes. Like nothing’s wrong, you pull yourself away from Byron’s dismayed fussing, batting off his constant mothering. Then, looking around the hall, he sees confusion creasing your brows, unanswered questions forming on your lips but never rolling off your tongue.

Only after your eyes travel from the high ceilings to the empty armours lining the walls, you catch him in the distance and beckon him over, mimicking a lucky cat calling in customers. “Prince—where’s everyone?”

Plodding over, he drops into the spot next to yours and reminds himself not to peer at your face unless he wants to get smacked in the nose again. “Nyx went back to patrolling. Prom’s at the shooting range. Gladio’s with Specs at the Royal Arsenal since they’re checking out the new shipment of weapons coming in.” After a beat, letting the information sink into your addled head, Noctis swallows. “Uh. Hey, you’re feeling okay?”

You nod, a little too enthusiastic, then regretting your decision seven seconds later. Swallowing down what seems to be an urge to retch, you doubled over with your arms wrapped around your midriff, trembling. “Um. No.” Muffled, but the suffering is evident in your wavering voice. “It’s – ah, a little too much to take in. Kind of,” you shudder, shoulders heaving with the effort of keeping it together, “just kind of – nauseous? Overwhelmed. Headache. Sounds, buzzing sounds like what Nyx said. Too much.”

With how things are turning out, the side effects are probably starting to kick in. Byron runs a sympathetic hand down your back, silenced for once, though the conflicting emotions on his face speak volumes. He brings you to a half-seating position, listlessly leaning most of your weight against him for support.

“This is truly a disaster, milady,” he mutters as your head lolls back into his shoulder. “You look like stale bread.”

Somewhere deep inside, you must’ve summoned the lasts of your strength to roll your eyes. “Thanks for the – accurate description, I feel – like stale bread too.” Momentarily repositioning yourself so you’d fit into the crook of Byron’s arm, you mouth words into his blazer. “What – time is it?”

“A little past two,” Noctis supplies. “You’ve been out for quite a bit.”

You make some indistinct noise in the back of your throat that doesn’t sound pleased, tugging Byron on his cuff. “Go – back, ’s close to father’s teatime. You can’t – miss it.”

Now it’s Byron’s turn to mimic your little eye-rolling, injecting it with a dramatic flair. “And whatever shall I do with you, milady? Leave you here to die?”

You can’t really die from something like this since Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto are living proofs on how the Crystal doesn't kill anyone. He can count on Byron to exaggerate everything. “It’s okay, I’ll take over from here,” Noctis steps into the conversation once again, knowing all too well that he’s standing on the ceremony of you vomiting your guts out—or whatever’s left of your breakfast if you took any. “Want me to take you upstairs?”

That is a line he shouldn’t cross if Byron’s around, apparently.

“We’ll manage quite well on our own.” Byron’s hand on your hip tightens just a fraction, almost imperceptible if Noctis hadn’t been watching closely. “Thank you for your kind offer though, I’ll be sure to be in your debt for several millennia to come.”

Drained from all strength to nag your butler, you throw Byron a mildly peeved look, shaking your head in exasperation. Noctis just shrugs when he catches your gaze, as if you’re apologizing on your butler’s behalf. A jerk, yeah, he knows that much because it’s nothing new if it’s coming from Byron and his prejudice against princes—or whatever that’s up his ass. Surprisingly strong despite his deceivingly lean build, Byron hoists you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your middle to keep your hobbles steady. You manage to wave your farewell like a disjointed ragdoll, one that Noctis receives with a chuckle and returns with his own.

“See – you in King’s Knight—?” you grit out, borderline wheezing now.

Byron, of course, pins you with a threatening glare with his lips pursed, and Noctis, well, Noctis likes pissing Byron off. So he nods as casually as he could, ignoring the well-aimed scowl Byron’s sending his way. “Sure, I’ll text you a Room ID later.”

They’re such simple, insignificant words that meant nothing to others, but they’re more than enough to make you smile for him—even if seconds later, you’re hurling all over Byron’s shoes.

[tbc.]

( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°)¡ intensifies.

1) so remember what i said about this going down the canon path? yea we’re doing a sliiiiight detour for pre-canon into omen route no takebacks now. for those who haven’t watched the omen trailer, you can do so by clicking right HERE! as much as i love the canon story, i can’t help but to wonder what’d happen if they go down the path of the omen trailer so here it is. pls stick around and watch as they ruin the world together (no). (DON’T WORRY I PROMISED HAPPY ENDING SO HAPPY ENDING IT IS). (BUT BEFORE HAPPY ENDINGS THERE NEEDS TO BE SUFFERING. can i get an amen for demon!noct in omen trailer.  

2) we’re going to delve into more of noctis and reader spending more time together (hope you readers don’t mind that) because this is the flowering arc for a reason. we’ll explore noctis’ thoughts and dilemmas and how it overlaps with the reader’s own ambitions and how they’ll work together as one. 8’) the next arc is going to be pretty. it’ll be fluffy. and angsty. and watch them fall in love with each other and pretty much go down the path of the omen trailer.

3) Hope you guys liked this long chapter, I couldn’t find a good time to cut off everything so here it is, roughly 9k words. (ALSO THIS IS PRETTY MUCH THE ENTIRE REASON WHY I WROTE LPC TBH, I WANTED AN OMEN ROUTE GDI, THE CONCEPT IS JUST TOO GOOD TO LET GO.) But good news is next chapter is super cute! And good news is, episode ignis is definitely going to ruin us all 8’)  

4) Thanks for all the likes and messages and the never-ending support for this fic, I truly hope you guys will enjoy the pre-Omen route, Noctis’ progress from prince to king, the eventual demon!Noct, and so forth. :D

5) I’m rather miffed at Tumblr’s image-inserting option as they no longer allow inserting pictures into the same line as text. It messed up loads of the chatting sequence that was supposed to be cuter with Prompto’s emoji stickers. Reading it on AO3 looks better tbh.

PREVIEW: Something tells him he should lament the loss—but the loss of what, exactly? He cannot truly have lost something if he does not remember what it is in the first place, isn’t it? Yet, the image you cast against a backdrop of fire is one of love, a severe attraction that ran for many months. It makes him forget he stands at the cusp of a shattered world when you stand at the other end, awaiting him with your arms wide open.

P/S: Noctis definitely watched JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure because his Ultimate Pose says so. JJBA is amazing.

[truemedian]

Final Fantasy 7 Remake Preview: The First 3 Hours, Tifa And Aerith Combat, And More

All aboard for Seventh Heaven.

By Edmond Tran | @EdmondTran on March 2, 2020 at 3:36PM PST GameSpot may get a commission from retail offers. Seeing the reimagined opening of Final Fantasy VII Remake for the first time really is something special, if the original is something you're familiar with. The establishing shots of Midgar, the train, the first couple of battles--there's definitely an unavoidable nostalgia, no matter how reserved and wary you're trying to be. I'd certainly been very skeptical about how Remake was going to turn out, and that's partially on me--I generally avoid watching pre-release coverage of things I know I want to experience myself. But after getting the chance to spend somewhere between three and four hours playing the first two chapters and some mid-game stuff, I'm feeling much better about letting myself be very excited about Remake's impending release.You're likely already aware that Square Enix is blowing out the Final Fantasy VII saga to encompass multiple releases. The first part is set solely in the corporate-owned slums of Midgar, ending when your party leaves the city, and will extrapolate greatly on the beats of the original. Having started a replay of the PS1 FF7 shortly before I dove into the first few hours of Remake, it's a little shocking how much more detailed the new game feels. The original Final Fantasy VII was in no way a small or unambitious game, but if I were to imagine the same kind of treatment being given to the rest of VII--well, I hope I live to see it all happen.A big part of the joy, of course, is simply seeing a more realistic depiction of a Midgar you likely know, and from all angles. There's a big nostalgia factor, naturally--jumping off the train for the first time is pretty cool. But there's a lot more about the setting that was never present in the original, and that certainly brings a feeling of curious wonder about something completely new. You can look up and see the plate far above, which physically separates the city's rich from poor. The streets are populated with people, shopfronts, and ads for hair gel, giving the city a kind of character I never thought about it having.Similarly, scenes that fly by in a minute in the original are expanded on for almost an hour. We encountered a handful of 'slow walk' scenes where the game spends time fostering a particular tone and atmosphere as it forces you to take a closer look at the aftermath of events through the city, listen to the citizens, and delve into Cloud's fragile psyche. Speaking to Yoshinori Kitase, a producer on Remake and director on the original Final Fantasy VII, he pointed out that this would be the first time fans will see a greener, more unsure and inexperienced Cloud in this kind of realistic detail, and that's something they paid a lot of attention to--the Cloud we saw in Advent Children and other supplementary Final Fantasy VII material in the years after the original release was far more hardened after the dramatic events of the game.But the most notable example of expansion I saw in Remake was the entirety of Chapter 2, wherein Cloud, Barrett, and the rest of Avalanche split up, agreeing to rendezvous back at the train. Fans are used to seeing short scenes of Cloud running through the city streets, nonchalantly bumping into a seemingly inconsequential flower girl, and quickly being backed into a corner by Shinra guards before making a daring escape.In Remake, a lot more focus and attention is given to that seemingly inconsequential flower girl. Cloud converses with her for longer, the two get into a bit of trouble with the guards, and there's a very curious and unexpected wrinkle complicating things. Kitase mentioned that the development team did some research into scenes fans found particularly memorable from the original game, wanting to make sure they had some extra consideration in Remake. This feels like one of the results, but personally, the expanded flower girl scene was one of the points in the demo where I was left feeling a bit unsure--something I'll only be able to resolve once I see where it goes in the full game.Following this scene, Cloud's originally quick escape from guards is extended out into an exploratory segment where you're asked to move through the streets and rooftops of Midgar, trying to find your way to the meeting point. It feels primarily like a chance for you to get a better feel for the new tactical real-time combat system with more challenging enemies. The defacto 'boss' enemy of this area is a named elite unit called "The Huntsman," an incredibly defensive shield unit who forces you to get used to dealing positional damage--you either have to distract him long enough to hit him from behind, or do what I do and perfect your parrying and countering skills to stagger him. At this early stage, and in my short time with the game, I was more than happy to spend time exploring every nook and cranny I could, finding out-of-the-way chests with equipment and Materia upgrades for Cloud, and just marvelling at a Midgar I hadn't seen before.

But my biggest worry comes from wondering about the full game's pacing, and the ifs and whens of whether roaming around expanded city streets and Mako reactors for the sake of a seamless Midgar will get tedious. These worries crept into my mind a few times during my hours with the game--when I was asked to wait for laser grids to momentarily come down before dashing across, when I had to hunt for keycards three different times before progressing, after climbing up my 20th ladder. I expect some roadblocks and puzzles, and the sequence where Cloud has to pull levers synchronously with Tifa and Barret was nice to see again (with additional unbridled enthusiasm from Barret), but I really hope there isn't too much busywork placed between major beats.But the thing that I just couldn't get enough of, the part of Remake I'm dying to go back to, is the tactical real-time combat system. It's accessible. It's complex. It's flashy, it's challenging, and best of all, it has a good heft to it, a good feel.If you've been following the reveal, you know have some idea about how it works: There's a lot of focus on blocking and dodging, regular attacks are mapped to the Square button, and when you're using melee characters like Tifa or Cloud, individual strikes are linked to discrete button presses. Characters with long-range weapons, like Barret's gun arm or Aerith's magic staff, require you to hold down Square for sustained fire. Sustaining attacks will build up segments of your ATB meter, at which point you can spend the segments on abilities and spells (which still require MP).You can activate spells and abilities in two ways: the first by assigning them to shortcut commands (L1 in tandem with the face buttons), allowing you to trigger them instantaneously, which allows you to seamlessly combo into them from your regular strikes. Played this way, Remake's combat can feel closer to a character action game, ala Devil May Cry. The second method is to hit a button to slow down time to a crawl, allowing you to more casually peruse a menu in order to weigh up the option available to you, and target them more specifically.

Even given the game's huge focus on action in combat, I found that when playing some of the mid-game content, at which point your characters have dozens of skills, spells, and items under their belts, the tactical pause option is vital to make the most out of your assault. Slowing down time lets you squeeze out advantages without faltering for a second--taking advantage of elemental weaknesses, piling enough pressure onto enemies to lock them down, and making sure your positioning is optimal. To me, it evokes the same kinds of feelings of playing an intense FTL scenario.This is especially true in boss fights. Those familiar with FFVII might recall the Air Buster fight, which takes place in Chapter 7 of Remake, where your team of Cloud, Barret, and Tifa are separated by the boss itself. I had to constantly switch between characters to make sure they were mitigating as much damage as possible when they were being targeted (with abilities like Barret's Steelskin and plenty of heals) while pressing the advantage when they had the opportunity to attack Air Buster from behind. Your party members will behave of their own accord when you're not directly in control, but they won't be as effective, and won't build up their ATB meters as quickly. During regular battles, I found it was usually okay to just stick to my preferred character (Tifa, of course), but making sure you're optimizing your plan of attack during boss battles, where the dynamic can change dramatically on a dime, is a tense and welcome challenge in Remake's combat. Summonable creatures (like Ifrit, Shiva, and Leviathan) act like extra party members when called upon, attacking of their own accord for a limited time. Anyone who has ATB meter to spend can use it to trigger one of the summoned creature's special abilities, and once time is up, the summon will perform their big, cinematic attack before disappearing.I was pleasantly surprised by how different each character feels to use. Not just because of melee vs. ranged weapon preference and abilities, but also the innate secondary skills each one has. Pressing Triangle with Cloud will switch his sword stance, for instance, giving him access to stronger hits and the ability to counter at the cost of his dodge. For Barret, however, Triangle is a single charged shot that does a huge amount of damage but has a long cooldown. Tifa has a Whirling Uppercut with a short cooldown that becomes a frequent part of her combo toolkit as she gets in close, and Aerith has a ranged ability called Tempest that gets more powerful the longer you hold the button to charge it, at the cost of, well, doing anything else.

The short time I did get to use Aerith in battle was the most divergent experience of the four. The last portion of the game I got to play was the fight with Abzu in the sewers, which takes place in Remake's 10th chapter. Abzu is ferocious, pouncing all over the arena and unleashing huge area-of-effect attacks. Focusing your efforts as Aerith during this fight felt necessary because of how devastating Abzu can be. Staying far away from danger zones and repositioning when necessary, I spent most of my time laying down buffs, debuffs, and regular heals to avoid having to frantically throw Phoenix Downs around to revive everyone one by one. When things were generally okay, it was a matter of working out how long I could charge my Tempest ability for a big hit without getting interrupted. This supporting role is the kind of action that can really stall the momentum of a fight in a turn-based scenario, but with the constant dangers of Remake's real-time combat, even the act of keeping everyone alive can be thrilling.And with all that Remake experience now under my belt, it's the constant thrill and excitement of combat that makes me happy to charge headlong into any and all battles the game wants to throw at me. I may have come away with some hesitations about how the structure of Remake's first part might shake out in the full game, but so long as the fights keep coming, I think I'm going to have a buster of a good time.Have any questions about the Final Fantasy VII Remake content we saw? Leave it in the comments below and we'll answer what we can. For more coverage, read our interview with Yoshinori Kitase, director of the original Final Fantasy VII and a producer on Remake. Want us to remember this setting for all your devices? Sign up or Sign in now! Please use a html5 video capable browser to watch videos. This video has an invalid file format. Sorry, but you can't access this content! Now Playing: We Played 4 Hours of Final Fantasy 7 Remake | Here's What We Saw Got a news tip or want to contact us directly? Email news@gamespot.com Read More Read the full article

[lenaglittleus]

How to Do a Bear Crawl, Plus 4 More of SHIFT SHOP’s Toughest Moves

SHIFT SHOP has been getting people dramatic results since its launch, promoting not only weight loss, but also  strength, muscle growth and endurance, agility, and coordination. But it doesn’t come easy. Chris Downing‘s progressive three-week ramp-up program doesn’t just demand effort, it demands a complete understanding of its movements to maximize results and minimize the risk of injury.

We’ve rounded up five of SHIFT SHOP’s most difficult moves, demonstrated by Chris personally.

How to Do a Bear Crawl

Crawling on all fours isn’t just for babies (and bears). Not only is the bear crawl a strength and endurance challenge — particularly for your shoulders, chest, and triceps, which probably haven’t supported you in this position often since you were a toddler — but it also mobilizes your hips, shoulders, and ankles, improves your balance, and increases your core strength.

The bear crawl also enhances contralateral coordination, which is the synchronous movement of opposite limbs (i.e., right arm and left leg, left arm and right leg). Such movement also trains your core to work anti-rotationally to prevent excessive twisting in to your spine: that’s the king of spine-saving support you need in athletic activities like running, throwing, and jumping, and in day-to-day actions like carrying heavy objects, shutting heavy doors, and climbing stairs.

In addition to the aforementioned upper-body muscles and core stabilizers, the bear crawl also fires up your glutes, quads, back extensors, and, to a lesser extent, your hamstrings and calves.

The bear crawl is easy to get wrong. Done correctly, you’ll maintain a rigid core and a flat back as you perform the exercise. But if you get too fast and loose with it, you’ll lose that stiff, stable core and get all bendy-twisty, increasing the strain on your spine instead of minimizing it. The video below will show you how to do a bear crawl with ideal form.

HOW TO DO IT:

Assume an all-fours position on your palms and balls of your feet with your back flat, your hands below your shoulders, your knees bent 90 degrees below your hips (don’t let them touch the floor). This is the starting position.

Crawl by moving opposite limbs (right arm and left leg, left arm and right leg) simultaneously.

Consider crawling in more than one direction (forward, backward, left right) to increase the challenge.

HOW NOT TO DO IT:

DON’T round your back.

DON’T raise your hips above shoulder level.

DON’T allow your knees to rise more than a few inches off the floor.

DON’T extend your legs too far behind you, or reach too far forward with your arms — take small steps, and keep your arms and your thighs roughly perpendicular to the floor.

How to Do a Baby Hop

Don’t let the name of this exercise fool you into thinking it’s easy. By holding a low-squat position as you hop, you’re not only going to maximize “time under tension” in your quads’ (a key muscle growth stimulus), but also how much they burn. It doesn’t matter that the hops are tiny — your legs are going to be on fire by the time you’re done.

Other muscles worked include the glutes, hamstrings, an calves. As with any exercise, good form is essential — stay low, and keep your knees wide, elbows up, and chest high.

HOW TO DO IT:

Assume a wide stance with your feet slightly beyond shoulder width, toes turned slightly outward.

Cross your forearms, raise your elbows to shoulder height, and keep them there.

Keep your chest high, your gaze forward, and your back straight.

Squat down until the tops of your thighs are roughly parallel to the floor (or as low as you can go without lifting your heels off the floor or rounding your back).

Maintain the low squat position as you hop forward about six inches each time. Be sure to land softly to minimize the impact on your legs and spine.

Hop forward and backward.

HOW NOT TO DO IT:

DON’T perform the move from a standing, or partial-squat position. Drop as low as you can without having to round your back (keep it flat).

DON’T bend forward at the waist or drop your elbows towards the floor. Keep your chest up and elbows high.

DON’T let your knees collapse inward.

How to Do a Catcher’s Crawl

Also known by various animal-inspired names — including the frog squat, and the animal crawl — the catcher’s crawl is a forward-hopping move that mobilizes your hips, strengthens your thighs, and fires up the extensor muscles that flank your spine and support good posture. Practice the move enough and you’ll have an easier time getting into a full squat — which in turn helps build a stronger, more shapely lower body.

HOW TO DO IT:

Drop your hips low and lift your chest high in a catcher’s position.

Look forward in the catcher’s position.

Keep your back flat as you reach forward, placing your hands on the floor, and then hop forward with your feet.

HOW NOT TO DO IT:

DON’T round your back.

DON’T forget to assume the “catcher” position at the end of each rep.

DON’T keep your head down throughout the move.

How to Do a Lateral Shuffle

A foundational movement in many sports, including baseball, tennis, and basketball, the lateral shuffle is an athletic drill performed from the classic defensive stance: legs wide, knees bent, chest up, arms forward, gaze straight ahead. As you alternately shuffle left and right, you’ll improve your agility, mobility, core strength, and muscular endurance (especially in your quads and glutes).

HOW TO DO IT:

Stay in an athletic stance with your knees bent.

Move explosively in each direction.

Keep your back flat the entire time.

HOW NOT TO DO IT:

DON’T keep your legs straight.

DON’T cross your feet.

DON’T shuffle forward instead of sideways.

How to Do a Broad Jump Pogo Hop

You might remember the broad jump from gym class — an explosive, two-footed forward leap that starts and ends in a wide-stance squat. But you’re probably not familiar with the second part of this combo move: pogo hops, which are small jumps that, in this case, are performed in reverse to bring you back to your starting point. Together, these two movements build explosive power and enhance muscular endurance while helping to improve dynamic balance.

HOW TO DO IT:

Jump forward as explosively as you can.

Swing your arms to help propel yourself.

Land softly.

Move backwards with small hops.

HOW NOT TO DO IT:

DON’T allow your knees to collapse inward at any point in the movement.

DON’T leave your arms out of the action.

DON’T broad jump in both directions (forward and backward)

from News About Health https://www.beachbodyondemand.com/blog/how-to-do-a-bear-crawl

[theposersclub-blog]

Stretching with Priscilla

Confession: I was totally that kid in gym class.  The one who flinched at all the dodgeballs and struck herself out on purpose to avoid playing.  The kid who somehow got whacked with every rogue round object known to man, whether it be from ten feet away or clear across the fieldhouse.  Who bruised black and purple attempting to serve volleyballs, and who stood counting literal butterflies in the outfield during a failed foray with little league softball in the third grade.  

That's not to say I didn't admire athleticism, though.  I found myself obsessed with gymnasts, figure skaters, synchronized swimmers, and UCA cheerleading competitions on ESPN.  Oh, and Priscilla Patrick's various Hatha yoga programs that aired every weekday on public broadcasting.

Starting the summer of my half-hearted stint in the outfield, I began to practice yoga in my grandparents' bedroom.  Just me and Priscilla, a beloved routine that lasted for years.  Looking back, this was the first of many yoga experiences for me, and I can honestly say it was love at first stretch, even back then in all my juvenile glory and squirreliness.

I had a legit dedicated routine going on, guys.  I'd clear the bedspread of my grandfather's bed, which acted as a makeshift ginormous exercise mat and pop on PBS a few minutes early, sitting through the last ten minutes of some other dated exercise program in anticipation of Priscilla.  I'd practice right there along with her for both 30-minute episodes every day, mimicking each pose to the best of my limited skill.  

This was yoga at its most hilarious and raw.  There I was, a pudgy eight-year-old, ready to rumble in yellow denim shorts and a variety of tie-dyed tee shirts.  Contorting myself into sloppy pretzels all over a shabby California king with reckless abandon, foodbaby gut out and proud.  I even ate the exact same post-yoga lunch each and every day: an apple, a tuna sandwich on buttered toast, chicken noodle soup and three Chips Ahoy cookies with milk for dessert.  This was in the food-pyramid-is-God-90s, where a meal like that felt wholesome and well-rounded.  I was doing my body right, dammit, and I was proud of it!  The whole ritual of yoga and lunch made me feel accomplished, grown-up, and in control.

But the best part?  

Nothing about that yoga was formal.  There was no pressure or expectation level, and practicing never made me feel less-than.  In a stark contrast from the multitude of my past PE embarrassments, it actually provided me with some self-esteem.  Priscilla's instruction was inclusive and gentle, and I took comfort in her encouragement and soothing ASMR-worthy voice.  Who knows?  Maybe the freedom I found in those early practice sessions created a lasting positive outlook towards yoga, maybe not.  But what I can tell you is that over the years, I've fallen away from the practice, jumped back in, fallen away, jumped in, rinse/repeat, rinse/repeat.  Until very recently, I never even took it all that seriously, but no matter what, I found myself returning to yoga time and again.

I'm now a 33-year-old student yogi practicing 3-5 times a week in a combo of studio classes and at home.  This time I've re-discovered yoga as a means of self-therapy.  And I’ve never been more serious or consistent with my practice.  It calms my anxiety, helps with depression, and has taught me so much about satisfaction, moderation, organization, and so much more.  Practicing asana is fully-integrated into my lifestyle now more so than ever, and I have ambitions to keep learning more every day, to engage fully into the practice, all 8 limbs or bust!  Like a boss, as they say.  But I started small, and TBH if not for those early PBS TV dates with Priscilla Patrick, I truly doubt I'd have given yoga the chance to save my life like it has.