#anyway i quite like this concept but the numbers probably need tweaking
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i said i thought of a zee card for @capn-twitchery's twitch and i will deliver!
A card drawn with Very Infrequent frequency (half as common as Standard), anywhere at zee, but only with troubled waters 3 or less and at least one level of Acquaintance: the Epicurean Captain. (also it's discardable)
Accompanied by the Epicurean Captain is a boon! It disappears when you dock at a port which clears Troubled Waters, and adds a little text about Twitch disembarking with a cheery "ciao!" and disappearing into the crowds.
#sorry for saying i had an idea and then not telling you what the idea was lmao#i hope my twitch dialogue was acceptable#anyway i quite like this concept but the numbers probably need tweaking#i loooove playing with zailing speed but it's a sensitive dial yknow#custom fl stuff#fallen london
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tuesday again 1/4/22
congratulations to everyone in general but me specifically for surviving 2021 bc it cut a little fine there at times. anyway this week we have an inadvertent theme of How Do We Improve This Fucked-Up City?
listening killer queen. may the new year have this much rollicking glam as my favorite queen song
youtube
reading Geiger #1-6 with writer GEOFF JOHNS and artist GARY FRANK uniting with superstar colorist BRAD ANDERSON.
this is postapoc, to me. this is some good cheesy shit that leans all the way into it. weâre in vegas babey! everyone shuttles around in big beautiful tunnels between and under the casinos! each themed casino has a themed boss! they all hate each other! we got some excellent nuclear knights shit! the brotherhood of steel WISHES they were this fucked up! LOOK AT THIS MAP
i am pretty hype to watch the politics and backstabbing play out, with a side of accidental child acquisition.
watching the book of boba fett. love star wars concepts, hate their execution, simple as. i had a number of complaints to make here bc unfortunately i am That Fucking Guy about star wars. i generally have extremely low standards for this franchise! itâs fun to look at and thatâs all that really matters. the extended parkour sequence did make me laugh tho- it felt like a very weird way of some exec going âwhat did kids who saw the prequel trilogy also like? what was cool in aught oh three? parkour? they liked parkour then theyâll probably still think itâs sick nowâ
[this used to be a super whiny paragraph about how this franchise is never going to be the thing i want it to be]
my fondest hope for this show is that it looks at boba and fixes some shit. for example, if, instead of making him a weird tradcath nevernude incel as per the old EU books, they simply made him ace, that would preserve what they wanted to keep about the core of the character (man who follows traditions as a sort of grief ritual and who simply does not have time for anything that doesnât get him closer to his goal, which is being the best at his job) and tweak it for the better. sort of an anti-james bond, if you will. i have not identified as ace for Some Years and am not an expert on the #representation the community is currently angling for, but a family of coldblooded bounty killers probably isnât it? however jango was absolutely aroace and you cannot change my mind about that.
the concept of taking one extremely bad city (mos espa) and making it into something better is literally tailor-made for me, i love that shit. i love seeing people get frustrated at how interconnected everything is and how much tiny things matter. cities COULD be such incredible places to live but they Arenât. this show is (so far) doing a good job of showing boba as someone whoâs pretty good with the small stuff but is having some trouble adjusting his methods and worldview to a larger scale.
two other nitpicky things: i have read so much fic where twiâlek lekkusign was a huge thing (and itâs been established canon for quite some time!) thatâs itâs still sort of a shock to see them so still on the screen? we have the technology. we can make those things move. disney is literally drowning in money and i demand better costuming and practical props
also get these fucking boston dynamics cop dogs out of my franchise that i like
playing this section will be changing. i donât know what it will change to or what it will look like yet. honestly i game way less since i got this job. it is very weird going from my job where i think about bideo james all day to, immediately, on the same pc and desk, play video games. this might be a good sign that i need to get back into phone games, or maybe start playing genres that donât pop up a lot at work like visual novels? i like games where you can tell a little story about what happened to someone else, and genshin and animal crossing: pocket camp simply do not produce interesting stories for the tuesdaypost. although there is a new genshin update coming that i will be able to play thursday evening, so who could say? maybe this one will be a big fat lore drop
anyway over the weekend at the end of a holiday break where i did zero gaming, i put like fifteen hours into fallout 4, with a dude bc iâve never played through this game as a dude before. i get startled every time thereâs one of those wretched little dialogue cutscenes bc i go Aah! Thatâs Not Me Or My Standard RPG Lady Character Aelia Laelia! no mods on this run (i hate this also) bc i want to pick up a couple achievements first
hereâs my fucked-up sad dad dead wife guy with the lesbians at oberland station. bog-standard dude, his face is completely from one of the presets except i gave him more scars bc why not. not that you can see them but itâs the thought that counts. one of my favorite games within a game is to take absolutely dogshit screenshots of objectively well-rendered games bc this pc can only sort of handle lowest settings.
i am happy as a fucking clam making my little settlements all fancy. i like using warehouse walls for things bc tall and big windows, and i am making a giant fancy bar/restaurant/hotel thing in sanctuary hills bc why the fuck not. no pics of that bc i have nowhere near enough glass yet.
also busted nick valentine out :) what a good quest. what a good man.
making :)
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Ok baby so my request will be Shinso/Tamaki (whoeber suits better for the song or for you) and 21 pwease
LUO BABY HI LUO HOW HAVE YOU BEEN MY FAV FROG ENTHUSIAST <33
I decided to do Shinso for this request because I actually have a drabble a wrote a long time ago that goes with song number 21 hehe hope yâall like it !!
*I TWEAKED A BIT OF THE WAY HIS QUIRK WORKS IN THIS PIECE JUST GO ALONG WITH IT IM SORRY IN ADVANCE ASDHFJ
Hitoshi Shinsou [fluff]: Song: Peach Scone - Hobo Johnson
Word count: 1066 words (damn this a big one huh -- gonna add this piece to my BNHA Masterlist as well) Warnings: none babes <3 Summary: Shinso finally meets someone who sees him for more than his quirk.
Your quirk is so cool!Â
And so deadly too!Â
Good thing youâre not a villain!Â
The comments arenât supposed to be insulting, theyâre not supposed to deteriorate his confidence. Yet why do they make Shinso so uncomfortable?
His entire life, Shinsoâs quirk has been the most interesting one in his class. The uproar he receives from it are mostly positive, but overtime itâs begun to feel like the opposite.Â
Fast forward many years later prior to his first year at U.A., Hitoshi sits in class staring out the window as usual while his teacher talks about high school applications. Shinsoâs set on becoming a pro hero, and he believes U.A. is the school where he will achieve his dream, but the practical exam seems to be in the way. Hand to hand combat isnât his forte. He could brainwash someone and force them to sneak him into the acceptance list, but that would be a bad start to the kind of job he is going for.Â
Footsteps begin to approach his classroom and everyone turns their heads to see what is the cause of the sound.Â
A new student walks in. Itâs as if the room just began the float, the atmosphere immediately becoming lighter by their presence. âHi,â they shyly greet the class.Â
Shinso doesnât really react, itâs just a new classmate, why should he care? Probably just another person whoâs going to remind him that his quirk is suited for a villain.Â
As time goes by, Shinso finds out his new classmateâs name, (Y/N). He still has no interest in them, even though (Y/N) has become quite popular in class. So popular that the two havenât even had time to speak because of how bombarded (Y/N) always is with their friends.Â
If heâs being completely honest, Hitoshi sometimes catches (Y/N) staring at him. With eyes blown wide, they look at him as if he just said the most shocking thing in the world.Â
(Y/N), on the other hand, doesnât even realize how obvious it is that theyâre staring. All that fills the studentâs mind was, who is that boy? Is he the mind controller? Why doesnât he ever talk? I see people talking to him but he never seems to initiate conversations.Â
Shinso doesnât even mind, heâs too focused on getting accepted into U.A. to mind.Â
âââÂ
The light taps of rain catch Shinsoâs attention. He internally cursed himself for forgetting an umbrella, although his mom reminded him before he left. Guess Iâll just walk in the rain today.Â
The rain seemed to want to taunt the purple-haired boy even more, as it began to thunderstorm right as school ended.Â
Hitoshi stood at the main doors of his school, thinking about how in the world he is going to get home without being drenched.Â
Whatever, today was laundry day anyways. He extends his arm and opens the door to give into the rain. As the drops begin to come his way, he realizes heâs not getting wet. At all.Â
It doesnât take Shinso long to realize thereâs actually an umbrella over his head now, and (Y/N) is on the other side of the handle. He's quite shocked, why are they still in the building? I thought everyone left already?Â
âWouldn't want to catch a cold right?â (Y/N) said with a smile.
âRight,â was all he could say at the moment. Anyone going out of their way to help Shinso was kind of a weird concept to him. People were nice to him sure, but only because they were just his classmates trying to kill time by making small talk.Â
(Y/N) gestures the boy to start walking and the two make their way out of the school yard in silence.Â
âSo youâre Shinso?â they attempt to initiate the conversation.Â
âYeah,â is all Shinso says.
âIâve heard a lot about you. A lot about your quirk actually.âÂ
Here we go, he thought. Shinso wonders how theyâre going to say it. Your quirk is so deadly and cool! Your quirk is perfect for a villain! You wonât use your quirk on me right? He begins to think about all the commentary heâs received about his quirk over the years.Â
âYour quirk must be so useful for saving people, I wish mine was like that!âÂ
Now that was not something Shinso expected them to respond with.Â
âSorry?â Was all he could spit out, still in disbelief of his ears.Â
âWell, your quirk is mind control right? So doesnât that mean you can control peopleâs emotions in a way?â
Hitoshi never actually thought of it that way, controlling emotions as a form of aid. He has been able to control someoneâs emotion before, but it was short term and definitely challenging on his end.Â
âIt would be useful for rescue missions,â continued (Y/N), âyou would be able to help them calm down no? Reduce the panic in the situation and make it easier for a successful mission.âÂ
Shinso couldnât believe his ears, his entire life his quirk has been one of his biggest insecurities. People always speak about him as if heâs only good for evil deeds, yet here was the new student at school, explaining how he would be good hero material.Â
âI guess you're right, Iâve never thought about it that way actually,â he confesses.
The rest of the way home was very pleasant. (Y/N) shares more about themselves, mostly how life was at their old school, and Shinso couldnât help but smile the entire time, enjoying the conversation.Â
As Hitoshi arrives home and makes his way to the kitchen. He sees his mother cooking dinner, as usual.Â
âToshi! Did you get soaked in the rain? I told you to bring an umbrella, go change before you get a cold! Put your wet clothes in the laundry basket and go give yourself a warm bath. Dinner is almost done and you need to-â She freezes in place as she meets her sonâs eyes. He stands there, completely dry, and with no umbrella in sight.Â
Shinso honestly didnât even interpret the words his mother just said to him, he can't help the movement of his lips beginning to form into a smile, his eyes squinting ever so slightly as he can finally truly embrace his quirk and accept himself completely.Â
âI made a friend today.â
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The First Steps Into the Adventure (Patton partners with Janus)
Summary: well it would be no good telling you what happened!
Note: AAH! Okay, I canât really believe how many people interacted with this! Thanks! Right, so this is still basic introduction stuff, Iâll admit. This is a bit clunky but I want to give as many chances for this to be interactive as possible.Â
The decision will be presented at the end!
Once again, this is inspired by fluffomaticâs tickle forest idea!
Previous Part!
_._._
Patton screwed his face up in concentration, carefully evaluating them, before he lit up and pointed at Janus, âYouâre on my team, JanJan!âÂ
âWell good luck on your journey, lover boy,â Janus taunted with a smirk as he walked to stand beside his team leader, Virgil quickly punched his hat down over his eyes as he scampered off as well. He was violently blushing as he approached Logan and he managed to give a friendly smile.Â
âGreat! Now just two more things to do!â Roman announced with an elaborate flourish.
âHow much more to this is there!â Janus frowned to which Patton tweaked his side as a warning.
âWell if you wish to adventure blindly without your map and a hint, then thatâs up to you!â Remus cackled as he chucked paper at them violently.
Logan frowned at their map, beyond itâs very apparent unprofessionalism, it seemed fairly straight forward. It was simply one long winding path to a large childishly scribbled âXâ. He expected something a bit more detailed from a joint creativity project but maybe that was yet to be seen. âIs my map the same as Pattonâs?âÂ
âYeah, if itâs like a race thing then Iâm out,â Virgil snarked.
âNah, see your map goes down this left road and Pattonâs goes to the right,â Remus answered.
âAh I get it. Left brain goes left and right brain goes ri...â Logan mumbled off as both creativities looked at him blankly. He may as well be speaking Spanish... well if Roman didnât speak Spanish. Maybe they werenât quite on his level of genius.Â
âAnyway!â Roman called out and magicked two sealed envelopes, âNow it wouldnât be fair to just send you into this world without any warning. So we randomly selected two of our fantastical beasts... or one of our plants to inform you of.â
Logan perked up at that- maybe the detail would be in the inhabitants of this adventure rather than the adventure itself. Patton handed the envelope to Janus as he had a very bad habit of sucking badly at opening envelopes. Janus wordlessly and without even looking, hooked his finger under the flap and opened it in one swipe.Â
âWhat is it!â Patton squealed.
âGive me a second,â Janus answered with a glare at Loganâs team. He hooked his arm over Patton to turn them so there was no way that Loganâs team could cheat and look at their sheet, âAlso be quieter. I donât know about you but I truly donât care about winning this.â
It was a very short page from what looked like an encyclopaedia but the information was very limited and basic. Not that they would be complaining. Â
A picture showed a huge âLittle Shop of Horrorsâ-esque plant monster. Remusâ influence was pretty easy to see. Janus doubted Roman would ever want to create something like that, but he did smile as he recognised that Remus would never have the monster be this pretty looking. Clearly they were much better working as a team. The plant had gorgeous pristine white petals framing a pastel pink âfaceâ. The page was titled âMotherbloomâ.Â
âA large flower thatâs queen of the tickle forest. She pins down her target and lifts their shirt to deliver a long raspberry on the tummy. She also uses her vines to tickle at other areas. The leafy sacs around the base of the flower holds air she uses for raspberries. The white flowers on the bush carry an intense pollen. Scientists discovered that if this pollen is transferred to other plants, the plants offspring will become tickle plants.â
Patton released a squeal that only dogs could hear. âPatton!â Janus hissed as he tried to wrangle his team leader under control.
âAh! Arenât you super tickly to raspberries JanJan?â Patton launched into a hug and quickly pressed a small raspberry to his neck; which totally didnât send Janus squealing himself.Â
âAw man, you guys got the motherbloom! May come in handy that,â Roman peered over their shoulders.Â
âI thought you decided which ones we got?â Patton asked.
âNo, it truly was random. We put everything we created into a list and used a number generator to chose which one everyone learned about.â
âWow, that is... very thorough of you both,â Janus complimented. Roman blushed violently at the very small compliment and awkwardly shrugged it off.Â
Logan opened the envelope with a summoned letter opener and quickly withdrew the page. He frowned as he realised this was probably ripped directly from some book. Virgil leaned on to his shoulder casually to peer at the page; therefore making his brain shortcircuit. How dare his boyfriend be so casually cute and affectionate. How was he supposed to work in these conditions. Virgil already looked quite beautiful on this day. Despite how rushed he was to get ready for what Roman and Remus planned, his makeup exaggerated his slightly sleepy eyes and of course his bright almost neon green and purple eyes looked as striking as ever. He was all bundled into his jumper just in case their adventure got too cold and he was mindlessly nuzzling into the front. He was... âWell this isnât a whole lot to go off on?â
âWha...â Logan perked up again and stared at the page. It was titled Tickler Jelly.Â
âThese jellies are attracted to pool toys and swim up to them. If a person is easily targetable, they will latch on and begin tickling the target with its four large feathers.â
It showed some very typical jelly fish with obvious feathery fluttering stingers near the centre with normal, presumably, non-stinging stingers that are used to latch on to the victims. It was pink and undeniably adorable so Logan concluded this was probably a Roman creation. But then again, jellyfish were quite intimidating animals so maybe Remus suggested the concept itself.Â
Remus had walked over to them with a shrug, âWould youâve rather we didnât give you any information to go on?â
âWell no but we may not even go into water so really this isnât any good!â Virgil frowned.
âAnd now you know what could be lurking in the water! Iâd stop whining if I was you! This was totally random, I donât control what you lot found out.â
âRight! Teams!â Roman teleported back on to the platform and stood on his throne, âI wish you the best of luck in your adventures. Your journeys will be long and treacherous. But you must keep in mind that your treasures are waiting for you. If you keep a sharp eye out, you may even find hints along the way to help unlock your treasure. May the best team get to the treasure quickest. Good luck teams!âÂ
Roman and Remus clapped dramatically and the whole stage puffed into a wave of technicoloured smoke.Â
The same stage that everyone was standing on.Â
They all fell to the floor with grumbled swears. Both teams awkwardly stared at the other before Janus leapt to his feet and dragged Patton down the path. Logan, seeing this, immediately pulled Virgil into his arms and sprinted down the dusty path ahead of them. The game was on. Â
Patton and Janus raced ahead until they lost sight of the other team and settled quickly into a walk. âRight, so what do we need to do?â Janus asked, he figured he better play the game properly and actually pretend that Patton made a good team leader.
âJust follow this path. By the looks of it we have to follow this path which takes us into a wooded bit then across a river before getting to the treasure. Simple!â Patton chirped as he charged on ahead.Â
The world was just as beautiful as any other the creativities had created before. Despite it being the evening, it was still a warm day with a gorgeous clear blue sky. There were a few streaks of bright white clouds and there was only enough wind to prettily rustle the leaves of the trees. It was beautiful. The path was taking them past a bit of a thicker grassy bit. Trees dotted along their path with thick bushes of ferns and dry yellow grass that stretched up to their waists.Â
Janus frowned as he saw the path was still tilting around a section of trees. âCan I look at the map?â
âSure.â Patton handed it over without any fuss.Â
âYeah, wait!â Janus pulled them to a stop and pointed to the path they were following on the map. The map clearly showed that the path they were following was awkwardly circling around the wooded bit. It would probably take double the amount of time to follow the path or just cut through the wooded bit. âWe should just cut through this wooded bit. Weâll end up back on the path and probably cut off a good ten minutes.â
âOh yeah!â Patton stared at the map before flicking up to look at the path, âbut we have no idea what could be lurking in the forest ready to tickle tickle tickle us!â He was wiggling his fingers and curling up to Janus. To which he totally didnât blush. Of course he got partnered up with the literal tickle monster.
âYes but then again we have no idea what could be on the path. We seen some butterflies flying around, any one of them could be planning an... attack on us. I donât think weâll be in any more danger if we cut through. Plus, donât you think it would be in Remusâ nature to punish us for following the boring predictable option?â
âWell, we should figure this out soon. The more time we stand here arguing, the more time we are wasting...âÂ
Meanwhile... with Loganâs team!
âRight. Now the most logical decision would be to analyse the map and decide which is the optimal route to travel. Knowing Patton, he will be following the map blindly,â Logan pulled Virgil to a stop and summoned a compass so to actually use the map effectively.Â
âYeah but he also has Janus with him. We have no idea what they could be doing,â Virgil awkwardly tried to conceal just how hard he was panting from the short run. Logan ignored him by examining the map and looking up for any identifying features.Â
âOkay so by the looks of it, we can follow the path through the plain fields ahead of us. Or we can quickly jog over that hill and there will be a public garden.â
âWhy would we go through a garden?â Virgil frowned and yoinked the map away from him.Â
âWell right now we are at the mercy of whatever the twins have organised,â Logan stated.
âYeah you donât need to remind me. Us even standing still right now could be the opportunity this weird world is looking for. We could be standing in the middle of an ant hill for all we know!â Virgil whined but Logan pressed him into his side with a gentle smile.
âAll good points. Iâm just saying the field could contain anything for all we know while a flower garden would only contain flowers. Therefore we know to avoid loitering and interacting with the flowers and it could be a straightforward path forward. They both lead to the same place,â Logan reasoned as he guided them slowly forward.Â
âDo you want to go through the garden?âÂ
âI think itâs worth considering. However, I could never outshine you in thoroughly considering our options. Iâll leave the decision up to-â
âToo much pressure!â Virgil laughed and burrowed into his chest.Â
âOkay then,â Logan murmured, âwe could continue through the field and face whatever they have planned. Or we go through a flower garden and know we have to face tic... plants. Hmm...â
And so the adventure has fully began!!
Should Patton and Janus:
A) Follow the path.
B) Cut through the wooded bit.
Should Logan and Virgil:
1) Go through the field.
2) Go through the flower garden.Â
#turtle writing#ts virgil#ts logan#ts roman#ts patton#ts deceit#ts janus#Tickling#TicklyAdventure#fluff
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I think I may have talked about this before, but I really hope that DBS: Broly sets a precedent for canonizing older, non-canon characters and plotpoints
That being said, I realized today that I donât really want every single Dragon Ball movie to be rehashed into excuses for Goku to get stronger ad infinitum
Instead I think it would be cool if they were rehashed to be excuses for EVERYONE ELSE to get stronger!Â
Itâs basically gotten to the point where Goku is incomparable to basically everyone else anyway, so when the âfinalâ Dragon Ball villain finally shows up in the next X number of years, I think it would be good for the rest of the cast to be a bit more balanced with him. Sure, we know heâd still be the last one standing and would probably get another power-up to shoot ahead as always, but it would be a lot more engaging if the rest of the cast was at least able to put up a real fight. I donât imagine theyâd each be getting a movie, but I donât want them to have super short OVAs either, so I think somewhere between 5 and 10 episodes each would do really well
So letâs say we bring back Dr. Wheelo from Worldâs Strongest; while it might be cool to get more scenes with Roshi, I donât think we quite need the whole âstealing Roshiâs bodyâ plotline anymore. Instead, we could use it as an excuse to bring back Android 13 using Dr. Wheelo as the impetus. From there, this plotline follows Krillin, 18 and 17 on a family trip, wherein we get to meet 17â˛s wife and children. Wheelo shows up with 13, maybe 14 and 15 too, trying to get 17 and 18 so he can use them to upgrade either his own robot body or further upgrade 13. After the group dispatches with 14 and 15, Wheelo has 13 upgrade himself into Super Android 13 with their cores like in the film; this necessitates that 17 and 18 get stronger by also finding a way to become Super Androids, which also ties in and canonizes certain aspects of the Super 17 Arc from GT. At the same time, Krillin is also finding a way to upgrade himself, leaving him to beat Wheelo while Super 17 and 18 beat Super 13
Lord Slug gets repurposed as specifically a Piccolo villain and showcases a new Namekian transformation, perhaps the armored form seen in Dragon Ball Heroes; in order for Piccolo to defeat Slug, he needs to also access this armored form. Itâs been stated that in order for Piccolo to fully regain the power of the Nameless Namekian he would need to reabsorb King Piccolo and allow evil back into his heart. The need to attain the armored form may be what prompts him to bring back King Piccoloâs soul and absorb it, with the major character arc of the film being Piccolo confronting the villain he used to be and finally overcoming it once and for all. Garlic Jr. could also serve this same purpose, and I actually think it would be interesting for Garlic Jr. and Slug to somehow team up, but I also think it would be better if it were a bit more focused and only chose one.Â
Turles could be repurposed as a Universe 6 Saiyan, giving him an opportunity to be redesigned to look less like Goku so as not to overlap with Goku Black. Vegeta finally makes good on his promise to visit Planet Sadala and decides to bring his family with him so that Trunks can be closer to his heritage. Goten either sneaks aboard or Vegeta allows him to come with because he thinks itâs an opportunity heâd never get from Goku. After taking in the Saiyan culture and giving Vegeta some time to reflect on how things could or should have been for him and his race and family, the plot shifts to Turles betraying Sadala, possibly under Frostâs orders, and attempting to drain it with the Tree of Might. Because heâs draining the Saiyans and not Earthlings, he gets a massive powerup that far outstrips what he got in the original film, allowing him to easily dispatch with Cabba, Caulifla and Kale. This in turn requires either Vegeta fight him with the powers heâs currently learning from Beerus in the manga or Trunks and Goten gain a power up as Gotenks. I do think that Turles would be better served as a Vegeta villain specifically in this case, as while I think Goten and Trunks need more development, Vegeta definitely deserves to have a story where heâs the hero
Tapion and Hirudegarn could easily provide Trunks with the development that heâd otherwise be getting from Turles, repurposing the sibling relationship he developed with Tapion in Wrath of the Dragon to have a bit more of a lasting impact (actually forcing Trunks to be confronted with the choice of killing Tapion rather than just having Hirudegarn escape from Tapionâs body before Trunks does anything as just one example). This would not only build up Trunksâ character, but would give him a really easy powerup in the form of Tapionâs Brave Sword
Garlic Jr., if not a Piccolo villain, could then in turn be a Goten villain, as Garlic Jr. was previously always defeated by child Gohan. Goten could be confronted with Garlic Jr. while Trunks is busy with Hirudegarn, forcing Goten to fight without relying on fusion and ultimately finding his own way of fighting thatâs distinct from Gokuâs ever-evolving Super Saiyan forms and Gohanâs Potential Unleashed. This would also make it even more impactful when Goten and Trunks reunite into Gotenks later in a bigger final battle
Bojack would then return as Gohanâs villain, but this time Gohan would have Videl with him (who would also be given an opportunity to improve her skills), as well as a slightly older Pan who may exhibit the same kind of untapped strength as Gohan did at her age. Gohan would either find some way to surpass Potential Unleashed to defeat Bojack or would specifically be able to beat him because his family is there fighting with him. Perhaps something like âBonds Unleashed,â wherein Gohan exceeds his potential through the power of his love for his family or something silly like that? Itâd also be a good chance to revisit Bojackâs team and develop them a bit more, especially fan-favorite Zangya
Cooler could give us a chance to develop Frieza on his own a bit, allowing him to finally reach the Fifth Form and subsequently combine it with the Golden Form while also exploring the culture of Friezaâs species, or at least the dynamics within his family as galactic conquerors
Janemba doesnât really have anyone in particular aside from Goku and Vegeta that he would make a ton of sense to be a villain for, but given how frequently Janemba is compared to Buu, I could see him being a way for Buu and Uub to team up, fully reintroducing Uub and giving us a way for Buu to level up, maybe somehow channeling his Super or Kid forms in a more constructive way
Baby of course would be a way to reintroduce Super Saiyan 4, but seeing as heâs a Tuffle Machine Mutant, I could definitely see him coming into conflict with Broly as a way to get Broly up to Legendary Super Saiyan 2 or beyond. That said, Brolyâs probably going to be brought back long before they rehash Baby, I just think that would be really interesting, especially since Legendary Super Saiyan is such a similar concept to Super Saiyan 4 (going Super Saiyan while in a pseudo-Great Ape state as opposed to going Super Saiyan while actually in Great Ape). My main problem is that Iâm not sure how SS4 can be introduced at this point since it might conflict with SSG and SSB, but thatâs an issue for the writers. I also donât think itâd necessarily be good to have Baby remove Vegeta from the plot by possessing him like in GT, so maybe Babyâs Saiyan body should be a Universe 6 Saiyan. Perhaps Cabba would be a good candidate, since heâs pretty clearly far weaker than Caulifla and Kale, so it might lead to some good development for him
Finally, the Shadow Dragons would be a good way to tie everyone back together, with each of them (barring Frieza, probably) taking on a different Shadow Dragon using what theyâve learned; since I couldnât find a place for Tien or Yamcha, perhaps they can team up to beat any of the Shadow Dragons that the others donât get to. I donât think it would be good to end things on a repurposed villain, so of course Omega Shenron wouldnât be the final Dragon Ball villain this time around, but perhaps this would be where Goku finalizes and masters whatever abilities heâll be using against the true final villain
I donât know if other people would like this as much as I would, I just think itâd be really cool to revisit all of these characters and concepts, tweak their designs a bit and also give the extended cast a way to powerup and get closer to Gokuâs level. Probably wonât happen, but Iâd personally love to see it
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Hell Let Loose
I feel like I picked up Hell Let Loose on the promise that I was going to find something meatier than Battlefield V, which has been going through a horrible dev/community interaction cycle. (Long Story Short: Google the Battlefield V Time to Kill issue on guns.)
After a rage-fueled departure from BFV, I googled some videos that were comparing some other games to BFV as a WWII shooter and Hell Let Loose was one of the games mentioned. Considering World War 2 is kind of a fetish of mine, I could hardly say no to trying another game while DICE gets their shit together.Â
Hell Let Loose is a PC exclusive team-based first-person shooter developed by Australian studio, Black Matter and published by Team17. Itâs available right now on steam after a successful Kickstarter campaign back in 2017.
Hell Let Loose focuses on 100 player team-based battles between the US and German forces, with teams comprised of a commander, and multiple squads made up of various infantry classes, as well as special squads that offer unique roles and jobs for the team, such as snipers and tank crewmen. Each teamâs success is dependent on players filling the roles needed for a battle.
What I found was a game that is nothing like Battlefield V or Call of Duty. Hell Let Loose is a game that focuses less on flashy video game spectacle and instead focuses more on making the experience feel as grueling as a real World War II encounter. Here is just a list of things you can expect out the gate.
Guns hit hard and often they kill more than wound the player.Â
Visibility is always an issue, meaning players have to get into a habit of stopping and scanning to catch movement, often the only indication that there are hostile forces around. Fog is everywhere, by design, go ahead and try to tweak your ini files, you will never get rid of it and other players judge you for asking how to get rid of it. Â
Tanks are always something you fear and you pray to god your team fills the anti-tank role in their squads.Â
There are no mini-maps or player makers for the other team. If you want to relay where the other team is you have to do it manually and accurate and inaccurate information is what saves or kills your team.
Matches are often long and grueling with some that go on for hours on a server, most quick matches only happen due to team unbalance or one team just being more coordinated and crushing the other.Â
As hard and challenging as Call of Duty and Battlefield V are, they still have the presence of competitive games. Each title seems to allow ample opportunities for individual players to showcase their skills and knowledge, allowing for proficient players to wreck entire teams.
This is not the case for Hell Let Loose. Yes, you can become proficient at the game, but battles are balanced in such a way that no single player is going to cause a win on his own without serious team coordination, or at least squad support. And even a coronated team in Hell Let Loose has to push through enemy lines. This is not a game where one just joins a lobby and contributes instantly to a team. You can play an entire round in Hell Let Loose and never see the other team. If you fail to communicate, you're a little better than an NPC fighter found in most other games. This means that while there can be intense and fun moments in Hell Let Loose, there are long moments of walking, crawling and blindly stumbling around until both teams find each other, at which point both teams will form a âfrontâ and the conflict starts. Most often this is around objectives or points of interest, but often you will find that the members of both teams often go ham and this is where the paranoia starts because no one in the lobby is absolutely sure where anyone one is at a given time except for their own teammates. However like in most other shooters that limit visual knowledge, the best indicator of where the enemy is probably gonna be where your teammates are dying. Except in this case you have to assume the enemy is in a radius around that dead body because itâs that type of game. Iâve found that when teams are invested and communicating, the long shoot outs and squad antics become quite enjoyable. But often there are long moments of silence as you wonder what idiot in high command is running the show right as you check your team and see there is no commander, which often always cripples your team's productivity output. Iâm still kind of on the fence about how I feel about the game. If youâre into World War 2 games, itâs an instant recommendation, but if you want a little more spectacle and instant gratification in your shooter, you might be better served with another military game.Â
Though if there is one major pet peeve that left a sour taste in my mouth, its that Hell Let Loose is yet another WWII game that has horrible controls for its vehicles. Battlefield V is kind of semi-retarded. In BFV, the ground vehicles work as expected with intuitive WASD movement and seat positions. Itâs easy to figure out and more advanced concepts like using the 3rd camera for better visibility is easy to figure out or learn over time. There is some other stuff one can know about the tanks and other tracked vehicles but all you need to know is most have cannons and machine guns. However, once you move to the planes, itâs like DICE wanted planes to be the most useless pieces of shit in the game. Playing a plane effectively in BFV is so unintuitive I have never seen anyone do it who was not legitimately hacking and you could tell those players by the absurd number of kills they had. I donât think I could describe how frustrating playing planes in BFV is other than telling people to download war thunder, get several plane lines in, and then switch over to play a plane. Now, the fun part, imagine that entire frustration I have about planes and go back to Hell Let Loose and apply that to the tanks. Dear God, I have never been so disappointed about tanks in a game. Fighting is ok, the cannons are slow firing, which is fine. Anyone that has played world of tanks or Warthunder will be used to that. The problem is the exact same as in BFV with planes. Itâs the god damn movement. It has a fucking gear system. These god damn things need to have their ignition started, their gears set to drive, and then you have to change gears to get up to speed or do the appropriate gear changes to reverse, etc.Â
Look I realize these things are doable, I understand that players can actually learn to fly planes in BFV and drive tanks in Hell Let Loose. I understand there are balance reasons for why you would make vehicles hard to maneuver. But guess what. It feels like garbage. I get that the game is going for more of a simulation style, but there times when a little bit of fantasy goes a long way. Players being able to comfortably drive a tank is one of those things.  But anyway... Like I said, Iâm still on the fence. Iâve uninstalled the game, but I know that if the game continues to have support, Iâll most likely come back to it at a later date, especially if Dice is eager to eat more crow.Â
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song rankings january - april 2020
only for my bias groups - loona, ateez, gwsn, and h&d - who are the only ones to have a comeback this year :^)
also to note - loonaâs mini has 6 tracks, gwsnâs has 4, ateezâs has 5, and h&dâs has 7, not including the intstrumental tracks.
bsides:
1.) gwsn - tweaks ~ heavy clouds but no rain
2.) loona - day & nightÂ
these songs are very close in my mind. thereâs something almost remeniscent of future funk, which a kinda deep bass that iâve been extremely fond of recently
3.) loona - ohÂ
4.)Â gwsn - after the bloom (alone)
these two songs are also basically on the same tier, the only reason why oh is #3 is because yeah gaja 1 2 is so iconic. the rap in after the bloom has major potential to go viral too (itâs literally so so so good pls listen) if groos start the trend but i donât see it happening yet, idk.Â
5.)Â h&d - empty handedÂ
a chill bop. dohyon has a lot more lines in this one, which is nice (im a hangyul stan btw)
i also feel like the vibes suit hangyulâs voice more. heâs being pushed as a main vocalist when thatâs not really his strength, but this song fits his range a bit better than their title tracks have.
6.) h&d - toward tomorrow
very similar to empty handed, just more vocally driven? it almost feels like theyâre two versions of the same song. but whatever, i like it.
7.) ateez - horizon
8.) loona - dddÂ
the raps in these two are very different but i love them both sm TT. horizon is just art (hongjoong is deadass one of my favorite male rappers in kpop, like #1 or #2) almost but not quite on the level of after the bloom and dddâs rap is just cute and catchy af, one of my favorite loona raps in general. horizonâs whole flow as a song is just really nice as well.
9.) ateez - precious
preciousâ bgm is just weird af, kind of like h&dâs intro now that I think about it? but i like it, whatever. itâs kinda weird because it has the feeling of being a really artsy song kinda stuck in a pop mode? idk
i also like the feeling that they infuse this song with. like itâs very...idk if motivating is the right word? but this song evokes some sorta weird hopeful emotion that ateez often strays towards that iâm pretty fond of
10.) h&d - good nightÂ
sheâs cute, not much to report tbh. dohyon also has more lines in this and this concept suits him more than soul, which is nice.
11.) h&d - unfamiliar*
i fully expected to hate this song and i kinda did when it came out but as i relisten iâm coming to appreciate it. itâs not something iâll listen to a tonÂ
12.) h&d - make me a different personÂ
itâs pretty chill, a little more...iâm not sure what the word is. itâs definitely not trop house but the beat is certainly...bouncy. idk. i have to be in the mood to really enjoy that tbh.
the other weird thing is that the song- and almsot all of their songs now that i think about it- sound super melancholy in tone? but the beat is so bouncy, itâs confusing lol. and not in the kinda tongue in cheek sad lyrics happy beat kinda way, just...the melody or their voices are very...emotional? thatâs maybe too much, but iâm having trouble describing it lol.
below here is the slow songs section and im a slow songs anti, sorry
13.) loona - number 1Â
sheâs alright.
14.) gwsn - the aerialist (wonderboy)
the fact that this is their lead bside is like a kick in the jaw iâm personally offended
15.) ateez - star 1117
...not their best, by far.
*unfamiliar was technically a title track but it wasnât the title for this album so iâm counting it as a bside lol
title tracks:
honestly iâm not a *huge* fan of the title tracks on any of these albums in comparison to others by the same group (for loona, ateez, and gwsn)
ateez - answer > loona - so what > gwsn - bazooka > h&d - soul
intros and outros:Â
h&d - intro = loona - # > ateez - outro: long journey
of all of these songs ateezâs outro: long journey and star 1117 are the only songs not to be added to my library (and therefore not downloaded). i havenât figured out h&d yet (so none downloaded atm), but i have all of these songs downloaded except for the aforementioned ateez songs and gwsnâs the aerialist (wonderboy). off the top of my head iâll probably download the whole h&d album (maybe except soul, idk).
choreo
tl;dr - idk my ranking but soul is last
ateez - answer
im deadass afraid to watch ateezâs choreo because anze (their choreographer) does such an amazing job (my favorites are wonderland and wave) but ateez/kq tend to change the tone or take away my favorite parts of the anze choreo so for my sanity i really canât watch atzâs choreo. anyways im sure answer is great lmfao
gwsn - bazooka
bazooka is simple and wayyy less intricate than their other title track choreos but i for one appreciate a solid point dance when i see one. the bazooka move is simple, iconic, and very representative of the lyrics so i appreciate it a lot. iâve missed the iconic and iconographic choreo that kpop used to be famous for
h&d - soul
my main gripe with h&d in general is that hangyul and dohyon are s u c h a weird duo. even though i liked their album wayyyyy way wayyyyy more than i expected i donât think that theyâre very marketable as a kpop duo. duos in general just arenât great, profit really rolls in at around 5 members, unless youâre 1.) blackpink, or 2.) a subunit of a larger group, and h&d are neither.Â
another huge complaint (which is basically the same as the first): h&d had like, 60 backup dancers in the mv i swear. are you telling me that not a single one of them can carry a tune??? not a single one. out of 60. there were some cute ones that i noticed in the stage performance. you couldnât even eke out a sub rapper mbk, seriously?
also itâs very clear that theyâre pushing hangyul as a visual, main vocal, main dancer, which is fine ish except there arenât really enough rap breaks in the song for dohyon to shine like, at all? and heâs kinda always behind hangyul and itâs really noticeable bc thereâs only two of them (and their army of back up dancers).
icb i used to be a lowkey dohyon anti and mbkâs treatment has me doing all this. jesus
loona - so what
iâm gonna keep it all the way real. so what feels (and looks, to me) complicated for the sake of being complicated. the girls worked so hard to learn and perform this choreo but to what end? thereâs no iconic point dance, and orbits and experienced dancers will find it impressive but itâs not really accessible to the gp?
butterfly hit that balance between complex and iconographic, but iâm not sure about iconic.
//btw, this is my metric for iconic: if you and a bunch of friends who like the same group were told to do a dance move or strike a pose based solely on the title of the song (obviously assuming that everyone has watched the livestages and is a fan, etc) would you all do the same thing? thatâs the beauty of the point dance: if a song has a clear point dance, you probably will. whether this is a strength that every kpop song needs is debatable, but itâs definitely important to me, with few exceptions.
thereâs probably more i could go into about mv and styling but i think iâll stop here for now xx
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Writer Notes: The Wicked + the DIvine 42
Spoilers, obv.
Probably time for the periodic reminder that these notes are an assorted of random thoughts, and any attempt to take anything I describe herein as the sole reason we did anything is a mistake. I would hope by this stage of WicDiv we should recognise that, in that it's one of the book's major themes â as in, Be Careful When Jumping To Conclusions From Limited Information, but it's worth stressing. I was talking to a friend, and the idea came up that when the whole thing is over, to do a whole OTHER set of writer notes about the writer notes. As in, "Now this is all over, I can actually talk about some of the things I wasn't talking about at this stage." As we step towards the end, more of that big picture stuff is going to creep in. Not yet though â when thinking of this issue, I thought "Shall I write this?" and realised it still is too early.
I will be glad when this is done, for many reasons, but being able to just talk freely is one of them. I also suspect I won't be doing a huge amount of that. DIE has no writers notes per se, and that's the direction I'm heading.
Anyway - "Okay" is six issues, but the last issue is an epilogue. That means the arc is actually five issues, and this is its mid-point. It's also one of those issues where when after I wrote it I realised that the dovetailing material had created an unusually prominent thematic backbone. Last time I can think of one as strong would be issue 31, where the concept of Theft just percolated it. This is even strong.
This is an issue primarily about masculinity and the men in the story. Two of those men die. One man reaches the key turning point. Two other men have clearly key beats. This is rare in WicDiv, where the women tend to be at the centre of the plot.
Jamie/Matt's Cover: Which makes the cover being this somewhat pointed. Brunhilde, smeared in blood. All our covers are inspired by something inside the issue, and someone in it. This is in the tradition of issue 10's cover, which promises something obliquely.
Vanesa Del Rey's Cover: I love Vanesa's work â do read Redlands â so getting her to do a full-witchy Norns made a lot of sense.
Page 1
One page scene, which is telling. As the solicits put it "I just read the synopsis for this issue and gaped. Weâre actually going to do all this in an issue? That AND that AND that? Honestly, this last arc really is going for it." When writing that, it was a question I clearly asked myself. How can I get all this in? Any one of the three set-pieces is probably enough drama for an issue, but they structurally speaking have to be here.
As each key scene is so big we give them as much space as possible, so everything else is crunched down. The scene structure is 1-5-1-6-1-4-3. And the last two scenes could really be read as 1-1-5 in terms of what the pages are doing â or maybe 1-1.5-4.5.. Each of the big stories actually get five pages â the 6 is actually 5 pages of page budget.
Anyway â TIGHT!
As the antagonists were missing from last issue, we catch up with them here, giving Baal a key baal image of standing on top of the shard. Look what Jamie does with the verticality of that first panel. Even on a five panel page, it feels big.
Matt's using a purple palette her â which is the Inanna palette that Baal turns to occasionally, for obvious reasons.
Still â even with a one page scene, we get two silent panels, plus the WicDivian use of mobile phone read out. I'll miss working with this team. It's easy to see what we do in the set-pieces, but it's the basic work which is a delight.
First of Jamie's strong expressions at the end of the page.
Christ. This much words on the first page. I'll cut down.
Page 2
Bible quote from John, subverted. I often think of these kind of truisms like that. The whole "What does not kill you only weakens you for final inevitable collapse" kind of thing.
Page 3-7
PoV shot to keep the reveal of the Creature for the page turn, leaving room for Jamie's quiet acting. I like trying to keep these kind of scenes quite low key, to ground the fantasy of it. What would you do when seeing something like the Creature? What would you do after five minutes of exposure?
The PoV hopefully reminds people of when we've seen this before â as in, Minerva. The Captions re-set the stakes, and adds more specific information. Clearly we could have said the "we need him on our side or not alive" at the end of last issue, but that would have complicated things, especially as it's a story route we're not going down here.
The heads thing is my biggest lampshading of the key thing in this arc â as in, not everyone knows everything, and the holes in the knowledge is significant. Trying to remember who knows what and when is one of the many challenges.
In terms of "this is everything I've ever loved" the visual reference I gave Jamie was the people entombed and dismembered in Aliens. The 2 panel reveal is a standard thing we've done since Phonogram. As I've said before, I quite like having a response next to an image rather than on the next page.
The catch up is a necessary paraphrase of the specials, including a little extra information. This arc features quite a bit of this (next issue especially) in terms of making concrete things which readers may not actually work out. There's stuff which I don't explain â but the 1831-Inanna-was-not-a-god would very much be among them. As I've also said before, I've always been interested in which things actually make people theorise and which don't, and I never saw anyone question that element of 1831 â I suspect a re-reading of 1831 the tells are clear.
(Her grasping that necklace in most of the scenes is one of the more subtle ones, but when you realise that she's not telling you a key fact, it's very much the sister issue to Woden's 14 in "When you know what the narrator is not telling you, it all changes." That her own transformation is completely skirted over is a huge absence.)
To state the obvious, the Why Some Bits Of 1921 Had To Be In Prose may also be clear now. If we'd shown the Zeitgeist, you'd have known who she was.
I love what Jamie did with the Metropolis-inspired element of the design on her on the wall.
Page 6 has another of "The characters know different stuff, so we have to be true to the characters, and then avert the derailment" captions.
Jamie has to work overtime in this whole sequence, of course â Baal's realisation of the awful horror of what he's done is happening at the same time as an information download. That the information download is what hits Baal ties it together, but does mean these are dense panel layouts. Jamie's choice of moments. The expression in the last page of 6 just kills me.
The last page of the sequence is just horrible. There is a lot of horrible in this issue.
Page 8
And the second of the one-page scenes. I originally had Mimir go up to the surface to make the call, but remembered I'd already established at least 3G coverage in the underground.
Let us applaud Jamie's design for the jury-rigged Mimir phone for a second, and the expression as he sends, and the shot as he walks back. There's a lot here.
Yes, I'm aware that it's a little strange that we get the heads free again (and three with bodies) and this is the only action by them in the next issue is this. They'll have their time soon enough.
This is another heartbreaker. Dominoes falling.
Page 9
Reference to Crisis on Infinite Earths, the 1980s DC event which basically formalised the modern crossover
Page 10-15
Another tightly packed scene, but also one I knew we needed space on. Abstractly the first two pages could be a single page. In fact, in terms of page budget, they are. We're using repeats (and tiny tweaks) on panels to extend a moment, so we give Woden the appropriate amount of time to actually think this through. Woden's mask has been a major boon for such trickery, and this scene wouldn't have played nearly as well. Â Note how we turn to a rigid grid to ensure this actually works.
There's a lot of great expressions in this issue, but Minerva's "It's a name as good as any" is an under-rated one. The soft change from "be"ing Mini to "be"ing Ananke.
Page 12 reveal of the Valk's teleporting in the sort of colouring rush I want to stand up and applaud for.
Minerva's explanation to Woden is another thing we're doing this arc â as in REALLY making explicit things which the reader has been 100% shown already, and may have missed. (We've seen Minerva appear out of nowhere twice. We see that she has the same memories â she knows the number to call to contact Ananke. We've seen they don't share a consciousness because she has to phone to tell Ananke where she is when she arrives in 2013, etc) but it's such key stuff to the understanding of the story that it's important to state it outright.
Anyway, Woden's fucked. It's been a long time coming, and he gets consumed by his hamartia. It's not the cleanest example of it, but it's there. He had several chances to back out of this, but at the end, he still is trying to treat other people like objects to further his own needs.
The Maened death sequence connected to the hive mind was set up all he way back in issue 8, of course. There is a lot that's horrible here â the revenge against Woden is hollow. The Valkyries are still being used as tools, after all.
Still... that at this late stage that Minerva, for all her obvious monstrosity, can still get a fist-pump moment from the readers for killing another character is a sign of how loathsome a certain other character is.
Minerva provides the back quote here too. "I am oh so bored of men like you." Rarely has a quote fit an issue as well, I suspect.
I do wonder how long I would have stretched out the death sequence given more space. Probably for the best- this is metronomic, clinical, and horrible. The use of the grid and the hard cuts sort of reminds me of some of the dance-beat stuff we did.
Page 16
Another one page scene, and definitely one I'd have given more time to in another issue... but that moment with Baal and his family and him being seen was absolutely essential. Once again, Jamie does a lot with six panels â the thing one of Baal's expression in panel 5 is a hell of a thing. Laura's captions also do the heavy lifting connecting the scenes. This is a mode I'm more using over in DIE.
The middle panel is interesting for Jamie's choices â very wide, to show the fight scene in almost scrolling fighter way, but still giving space to see Laura and Cass arrive. There is a LOT here. Compare and contrast with the previous panel, which gives the more traditional comics action shot, used in a stealth mode. Jamie is very good here.
Page 17-20
Back in the underworld. Panel swap from the blues and whites of the previous page to the warm reds. In some ways, 17 could be seen as one of those one page scenes. This is Baal and Inanna. What can I say? No more than Baal can, clearly.
18 is the last elements of set up for next issue, but is also clearly setting up the end of the issue. The "Ever" from Nergal is obviously loaded â it's a Now Or Never.
"Faces are remaining distinctly unkicked." Oh, Lucifer, I missed you so.
The "It's gone midnight" bit from Cass on 19 is something I suspect I'll cut for the trade â it's an artefact from me trying to overexplain something. Reminding people of the failsafe from Imperial Phase is enough.
19 also is one of my favourite beats, in that it's not part of WicDiv's planned structure, and just listening to the characters. Of course, Cass would say something inappropriate about Woden's death. Of course, Mimir would be heartbroken. And, of course, Cass would realise. Being better is hard. Cass's "I'm so sorry" is an amazing panel from Jamie. I've been there.
20 is tightly wound too â I could have given more space, at the expense of the next scene. In the end, I decided this was the right way to go. I haven't changed my mind.
In the original draft Cass's last line was "Oh fuck." After Baal's line, it seemed too much... and  you always know things are going badly when Cass doesn't swear.
Page 23
Reference to Satre's perhaps most famous line.
Page 24-26
Nine panel grid, back again. It's taken a late period WicDiv life of its own, right?
There's little I can say about this â partially as I don't want to, partially because it's still too early. It's the sort of thing I may talk about in issue 44's notes.
It's a slow motion showcase of Jamie's acting. I'd never write this for almost anyone else. This is as real a sacrifice as we can get, and the longer we spend with the moment, the realer it is, but only if it's grounded visually.
Baph's own story was about his fear of death. He's the character who tried to kill other people to scramble out of this. He's come to a place where he does this. Normally WicDiv gods are consumed by their hamartia. I believe Baph is the first who actually overcome his. This scene breaks my heart.
(This Corrosion just turned up in shuffle, and the like a healing hand howl is a bit too close to the bone.)
Last page is astounding. Not a way I'd have pictured it in a million years.
Page 27
I believe uniquely for WicDiv, this is a continuing interstitial. As in, a response to the previous one. Issue 43 is going to be late, for the health reasons I describe at the back of the issue. It's at the printers now.
Thanks for your patience and thanks for reading.
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10 Let Someone Else Pick Up The Tab
Ao3 link
07/18/13 Thursday
The nerd brigade was in full control of the living room by the time Stan was up and about the next day. Graph paper, rulebooks and glitter-spangled character sheets were littered across the carpet. Clary sat enthroned upon the recliner with a bunch of pillows arranged to support her elbows. She leafed gingerly through some arcane tome tricked out with silver ink as Dipper hovered to one side, pointing out paragraphs here and there with a pencil and a note of shrill excitement.
â... so thatâs what they did with the clerics in the latest rule update!â
âHow are the warlocks looking in this edition?â Clary flipped to the back, then started paging through intently. Todayâs kerchief was an improbable shade of star-spattered purple. One of Mabelâs scarves strapped down a towel-wrapped ice pack at the back of her neck. âTheyâre kind of garbage for one-shots, but if we get something longer-term going online I have a concept...â
âAh, we - usually avoid warlocks - â Dipper glanced over at Ford, whoâd popped up with a frown from behind a cardboard screen. âBut if we end up trying an online campaign we can talk! Todayâs just an intro. Some puzzles, some mysteries, perhaps some villains.â He waggled dramatic fingers at Clary, who grinned back with an appreciative âooOOOooo.â
Stan made to slide on by, intent on heading out to the yard and the cars and the testing-out of a happy engine, but Mabel caught sight of him and scuttled out in pursuit. âGrunkle Stan! Help me out for a minute, we need ice pops for these brave adventurers!â
âHey, sweetheart.â He grinned at Mabel, caught Claryâs eye in passing and absolutely did not blush a little, nope, no way, he was too old and too jaded for that kinda nonsense.
Mabel squinted up at him appraisingly, planted hands at his back and shoved him towards the gift shop. âSo?â she hissed between her teeth as they staggered down the hallway. âGimme the 411.â
All he could manage was a thumbs up. Her eyes went wide and she yanked up the cowlneck of her sweater to muffle a high-pitched squeak of glee. âSo, she asked me out, I guess, maybe when weâre in port, since we swapped phone numbers anâ all - â
âDid you kiss her?!â
âWhat? No!â
âYou should. She gets all dreamy-eyed - â
âMabel, she is a classy dame, you donât rush that kinda thing!â
âThere is no dame too classy for my Grunkle Stan.â She hugged him hard around the waist and ran off to the gift shop, leaving him dumbfounded. âIâll grab you a pineapple one!â
He hauled both the toolbox and a pineapple ice pop out to the yard, late-morning sunshine laying across his shoulders with a warm and soothing weight. The Fairlaneâs engine was familiar as the back of his hand after two weeks of tinkering with its insides. Stan propped up the hood and dove in, checking and re-checking his work, reaching in to tweak a connection or two. A low hum of satisfaction rumbled in his chest as he slid into the driverâs seat and shook out the keys.
A good half tank of fuel remained, so no problem on that front. The engine sputtered briefly as he coaxed it into life, then settled into an even cadence that was easy enough on the ears, but Stan cocked his head as he listened. A faint off note in the sound plucked at some distant memory. He leaned on the gas a bit, leaving the car in park.
Then blinked, as the subtle vibration heâd been registering resolved itself into something more rhythmic.
âShit.â Stan yanked his foot off the pedal and flipped the key back towards him, the thrum of well-regulated combustion rudely interrupted by an earsplitting clatter that echoed off the surrounding trees. The engine took way too long to wind down into silence, something in its guts rattling around hard enough to jostle the suspension. He laid a hand across his brow and swore fervently under his breath.
Twenty seconds passed before the side door banged open and a blur pelted across the yard. Clary smacked into the driverâs side, barely catching herself against the window frame. Winded, she stuck her head into the passenger compartment, frantic eyes flicking across the dash and the dented hood. âThat was a piston.â
âThat was a piston,â Stan agreed grimly.
âWhat - what the hell happened? Is the engine dead?â She sagged against the car.
âWell - â Clary made a strangled noise of protest and he winced. âNo. No, no, itâs not dead but things just got more complicated. I swear this isnât my fault.â His brother and the kids were almost there, trotting across the grass. âFord, did McGucket get all that heavy equipment shifted up to his new place? Weâre gonna need an engine sling at the very least.â
Ford looked a little stricken as he accepted Dipperâs phone. âI thought weâd need to take the wagon up there for the bodywork, but I hoped itâd be under steam by then. Yes, the garage should have everything weâre going to need and then some.â He scrolled through contacts and tapped a number, turning away to engage in low conversation.
Clary straightened, leaning hard on the door for support. âAll right,â she whispered. âFine. Not like it hasnât been a comedy of errors since I crashed into the town jewel at the peak of the season.â Her hands came together with a sharp clap. âWeâd better get the rest of my junk out of the car. May I have some help?â
There wasnât much left to clear out at this point. Clary opened all the doors and the back gate, letting the kids shuttle the last couple of bags into the house. She handed a skinny box of bottle rockets over to Stan. âLeftovers. I guess we can fire those off when this thingâs finally done.â
Then she collapsed onto the edge of the driverâs side passenger seat, doubled over with her head in her hands. âGood Christ. We just canât catch a break, can we?â
Ford dropped into a crouch with an ease Stan envied, looking up to her and speaking firmly. âWe promised that weâd get you on the road again and we shall. Weâll understand, of course, if you want to cut your losses at this point. The offer of a rental stands, if you want to head up to Seattle and come back to collect your car.â
She was already shaking her head, laughing raggedly. âCome on, Ford. You understand the sunk cost fallacy as well as I do. Thank you, but no.â Clary patted the seat back. âWhatever it takes, itâs got to be this ride. Stan? Can you actually fix it?â
That stung a bit but he couldnât blame her. âYeah. I mean, itâs gonna be another week, maybe a little more, and we might be haulinâ McGucket in to help out some.â
Clary drew a careful breath. âWho exactly is McGucket?â
âBest mechanical engineer Iâve ever met,â said Ford.
âTown crank,â said Stan, and got a glare for his trouble. âWhat? Theyâre both true!â
Ford sighed and rose. âIâve been hoping to introduce you to Fiddleford anyway. There might be quite a bit to talk about! Can you adjust your schedule to accommodate another week or so?â
âMy next firm commitment is in September. I arranged to leave most of the summer open. I will admit I expected to spend most of it on the road.â Claryâs smile was crooked.
âThe McGuckets would be happy to have us as soon as we can arrive. Is it all right to line up a tow truck?â
âGo for it. Thank you, Ford.â
Fordâs smile was the warm, reassuring one he tended to bust out for the customs agent when theyâd come skidding into some obscure port with inadequate paperwork. âShouldnât take much more than half an hour.â
Stan watched him head back towards the house and sat heavily behind the steering wheel. Clary studied her feet, then pitched backwards with a groan, legs hanging out the door as she sprawled across the back seat. Both hands came up to cover her face. âAaaaaaauuuuuugh.â
âYou all right over there?â He set the fireworks down in the footwell and draped an arm over the backrest, peering down in concern.
âEverything hurts and I want to cry.â
Stan fidgeted. Extending reassurance had never been his strong suit. âListen...McGucket is definitely a little nuts but he knows his way around a combustion engine like nobody else. Between him anâ me weâll get it runninâ.â
âThis damned car.â She sounded so tired. âI had one job this summer, get this thing from Colorado to the west coast, then back home to Baltimore. I havenât even made it to the Pacific yet!â
âPretty roundabout route for gettinâ back to Maryland.â
Her breath hitched. âYes,â she said. âI suppose it is.â Clary let her arms fall, one drooping to the floor, the other crossed over her abdomen, and stared up at the roof light. âStan, Iâm glad Iâm here. I hate that I donât have any control over being here.â
Stan tried out comforting responses in the back of his head for a couple seconds, words sticking in his throat. âWell, if youâre gonna be here another week, weâre doinâ the dance thing next Friday. You anâ I could actually, yâknow. Dance. If you want,â he clarified as her eyes swiveled over to him.
Clary was silent just long enough to make him nervous, but at last the unhappy line of her mouth softened. âI meant what I said. Iâm not taking it back. Even if the car still isnât running.â She lifted a hand and hooked her index finger into his at the seat back, letting the weight of her arm hang. âLetâs dance.â
She was beautiful in her exhaustion. Stan shifted to hide a widening smile against his shoulder and tightened his one-digit clasp in hers. âGreat. Iâll see ya there. Gonna be quite the swank party.â
They trailed the tow truck in the El Diablo, Clary tucked into the front seat, Ford in the back with the kids. Dipper narrated choice bits of Northwest family history all the way, none of it flattering. Clary kept glancing back to him in astonishment. âThey were really that bad?â
âThey used to be, but they donât have all that dirty money to throw around any more! And, uh. Pacificaâs okay.â
Mabel jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow.
âOw. Anyway, McGucket ended up buying the place at the end of last summer, so itâs probably changed a bit, but itâs huge! I havenât been up there since the big party last year. Hey, there it is.â
Clary looked up to the vast lodge-style manor on its hill as they rounded a curve and emerged from the trees. âStan?â
âYeah?â
âThis town doesnât make any sense.â
âThought youâd figured that out by now.â He swung the car up along the long drive, squinting up at the mansion. âI never did manage to slip into this joint while the Northwests were runninâ it.â
âIt takes a lot of money to be that tacky. Clary, Dipper is definitely taking us on the tour.â Mabel hooked an arm firmly through her brotherâs. âWeâre gonna let the machine geeks go at it for a while.â
âI donât know, Mabel....â
âCâmon, you said it wasnât haunted any more! Whatâs the harm? Iâm sure the Northwests took all their awful family portraits with âem....â
The kids bickered all the way up to the garage, which was as oversized as the rest of the place. He could just glimpse a tinkererâs dream of equipment in there â stuff he recognized, stuff that looked to be custom built, some massive grease-encrusted hunks of machinery that must have come up from the town dump along with McGucket.
The man himself was a lot less grease-encrusted than he used to be. McGucket still sported the overalls and the spectacles, but he was scrubbed, bright-eyed and less stooped, and the missing teeth had been patched in through some kind of dental wizardry. Mabel and Dipper hauled Clary off for introductions while Stan and Ford got the wagon unloaded, oriented and nudged into the open bay.
One thing hadnât changed at all and that was the language. McGucketâs conversation was as peppered with hick-isms as ever. âWhat a pleasure to meet ya, miss! Fordâs filled me in on yer situation and Iâm real sorry yâgot stranded out here, but weâve got the stuff tâget ya right on the road again! I hear thereâs a thrown piston tâfix?â He, the kids and Clary, her eyes widening a little with every twang, took off on a tour of the further corners of the space. An occasional snippet of discussion drifted back Stanâs way as he tried to focus on the immediate necessities.
âJust as well she already knows this place is a little strange.â Ford caught Stanâs jacket as it was tossed over, then shucked his own coat and hung both up on pegs.
âNot sure Iâdâve brought her up here without knowinâ she wouldnât flip.â Stan got the Fairlane settled into place, set the brake and went looking for a dolly.
âYou wouldnât believe some of the things heâs built! McGucket can do stuff with old cars thatâs practically miraculous--!â Dipper was nearly hopping in excitement as the little tour group rounded the far end of the garage. Stan glanced up, caught his nephewâs eye and dragged pinched fingers along his lips: zip it, kid. Dipper blinked, went a little red and reined himself in. âI mean heâs not going to do anything weird to your car. Grunkle Stan will make sure of that.â
âOf course not! Why, itâd be a crime to take apart such a pretty thing.â McGucket caught one of Claryâs hands in both of his and peered up in watery-eyed sincerity. âI promise weâll take real good care of it. Mabel, honey, yâsaid you wanted tâtake a quick tour? I can send ya up with Tater if yâlike.â
Stan hauled up the hood and latched its support into place, listening in. Claryâs polite smile finally loosened up into something genuine and she tightened her grip in McGucketâs. âThatâs your son, right? Iâd love to see the place. Mabel says itâs something else.â
âSure is! Left up most of the fancy stuff, gold doorknobs anâ all that claptrap, might have tâswap âem out next time we need some for circuit boards or whatever...â McGucket fished a heavily modified cell phone out of a pocket and chattered into it as he led the other three up towards the house.
âGold what?â Stan asked under his breath as they went out of sight.
âDonât ask. Iâm not sure whether heâs serious and itâs not worth crossing the path of the latest Patrol-O-Bot prototype to find out.â Ford peeled out of his sweater and hung that up next to his coat. âWhere do we start?â
It took most of an hour for McGucket to make it back down to the garage, by which time theyâd gotten the engine fluids drained and the banged-up hood removed. âNice dings yâgot there! Ford, she said it was that magnet gun oâyours did the deed? Maybe we can set up opposinâ fields, pop that sucker nice anâ flat again?â
Stan rolled his eyes a little and tuned out the dense cloud of nerd words that McGucket and Ford generated every damn time they crossed paths. Gibberish along the lines of âget a few more horsepower out of itâ and âpolymer coatingsâ and âincreased fuel efficiencyâ bounced back and forth as he methodically disassembled and labeled everything in the engine compartment.
They were all sweaty and grimy by the time Clary and the grand-nibs reappeared. Clary looked up at the sling-suspended engine with worried eyes, then drew breath and squared her shoulders, jangling a set of keys by their fish-shaped fob. âGuess whoâs got a loaner,â she sang. âTate is spotting me his spare truck. He let me raid the larder up at the manor, too, so Iâve got dinner covered. Anyone mind if I run the kids back down to the ranch?â
âWhat, all we had tâdo for some replacement wheels was wreck the car even worse anâ drag it up here?â Stan grinned over her way and she grinned back, relaxing a shade. âLookinâ good so far, Clary. Sure, seeya back at the Shack this eveninâ.â
âThank you, fellas. Thank you, Mr. McGucket!â Clary shouldered a canvas bag and headed for the far end of the garage.
âCall me Fiddleford!â came out from somewhere under the Fairlane.
The loaner turned out to be a lightweight pickup with âTate & Backleâs Bait & Tackleâ decaled on the doors. Dipper, Mabel and Clary all loaded themselves in. Clary fired it up with a low roar and with three shouts of âwooooooooo!â they peeled out down the long, curving drive back towards town.
âTheyâre going to get in trouble, arenât they?â Ford peered out after them from behind the bulk of the kitbashed machinery heâd been using for cover.
âLess trouble than theyâd get in if I were drivinâ! Câmon, letâs finish pullinâ these pistons.â
Stan and Ford didnât head back down until nearly sunset. Theyâd borrowed one of the manorâs ludicrous excess of bathrooms for showers, and Stan had âborrowedâ one of the thick, fluffy, pure-white, gold-logoed bath towels to take home through the simple expedient of folding it up and stuffing it under his arm.
The Stanleymobileâs usual parking spot was a lot emptier without the wagon angled in next to it. Mabel was waiting for them on the couch when they finally pulled in, snapping her scrapbook shut as they ambled wearily towards the house. âGentlemen! Have we got a meal for you! Howâs the car?â She waved them in towards the dinette.
âIn pieces,â Ford said dryly. âItâs a good start at least. What did you make?â
âOh, youâll see.â Mabel waggled eyebrows at both of them and vanished off down the hallway. âHave a seat! Weâre almost done!â
The dining table was dolled up with a tablecloth Stan was pretty sure had been a curtain last week and a candelabra nicked from a Summerween exhibit. He grabbed a chair just in time to dodge Dipper, who scurried in to drop off a plate lined up with neat rows of salami-wrapped mozzarella, olives and tiny pickles. âAppetizers!â he called in passing, doubling back to the kitchen.
Stan exchanged glances with Ford, shrugged and reached for an olive. âThis oughta be entertaininâ.â
A low argument between the younger twins, just loud enough to be audible, was intercut with sporadic bits of crackling radio. Clary walked through to set a pitcherful of water and a few glasses on the table, then leaned in to speak softly. âThe soundtrack was not my idea, got it?â Stan was struggling to stifle laughter by this point; Ford resolutely bit into another pickle.
Eventually the crackle settled down into what sounded like distant cocktail-hour strings. Mabel marched in first and set down a bowl of fancified rice. âFor your consideration, tonightâs menu is produced by our executive chef, Miz Clary Merrick!â Dipper and Clary shuttled in serving dishes until the table was loaded down - garlic bread, a couple different green things he didnât pay much attention to, and chicken in some pale lemony sauce.
Fordâs nose actually twitched. âWhere on earth did you find capers?â
âThe pantry up at the McGucketsâ place is bigger than my entire kitchen. You wouldnât believe the weird pickled things in there. Capers were easy.â Clary laid a napkin across her lap and reached for the rice. âLetâs eat.â
The whole spread turned out to be about a dozen steps above meatloaf. Stan demolished a pile of chicken piccata, went for seconds and found himself fork-dueling with Dipper over the last bit. âSettle down, you two.â Clary nudged back from the table. âThereâs pie for dessert. Maybe after weâve digested for a couple of minutes. But first - â She steepled her fingertips and looked out critically across the empty dishes. âI have a proposal to make.â
Mabel bounced a little in her chair. âWe want to throw a picnic!â
Clary glanced heavenward. âMy sainted mother,â she said, kicking the nearest leg of Mabelâs chair, âwas a terrible cook, but she had a few specialities and one of them was the family fried chicken. Weâre going to have the big dance thing next Friday. So, with your permission, Ford, Stan.â Her chin dipped as she looked at them in turn. âIâd like to host a picnic lunch that afternoon for you guys and anyone else you think I should meet before I pack it up and head out.â
Stan conceded the last bite of chicken to Dipper - kid needed all the protein he could get anyway - but stole the serving dish and swabbed out every trace of sauce with a crust of bread. âIs your fried chicken half as good as this stuff?â
âBetter.â
âSold.â
Mabel beamed, teeth and braces gleaming, and - too late - Stan sensed the trap. âFantastic! So weâre gonna need to do a bunch of prep.â Her scrapbook came out onto the table, bang, and she flipped it open to a page festooned with tiny curling streamers. Clary deftly snatched plates out of the way, handing them off to Dipper, who ran them to the kitchen. âWeâve got an invite list started, but Clary and I will need to schedule a couple of meetings. You know, to get everything organized since sheâs gonna host. That means we have to get Grenda and Candy and Pacifica over here to help out - we need glamour consultants!â
âThis means a slumber party, doesnât it.â Fordâs eyes narrowed, but Stan didnât see any way to wiggle out of it this time.
âSince everyoneâs scattered all over town, it only makes sense to gather here, doesn't it? We'll have to talk about the menu, the dĂŠcor, the clothes, the music, there's a lot to do.â Clary plucked the piccata bowl from Stanâs slack fingers. âIâve been extended an invite which Iâm honored to accept, so thereâll be adult supervision. Surely we can host for one night?â
Ford groaned quietly. Stan raised both hands, knowing when heâd been beat. âFine. Deal. As long as you deliver on dessert.â
âOh, Iâll deliver. Has everyone got their second wind?â
âHeck yes,â chorused the kids. Clary stacked up the remaining dishware, whisked it away and returned with some kind of lemon curd pie dolloped with whipped cream. It was too tart, too sweet, completely delicious and almost gone by the time they were all too stuffed to eat any more of it.
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âIâm glad to be here, Stan. I just hate it that Iâm stuck.â She stares up at the dome light with tired eyes.
You could take a day trip to Bend with the bike.
We could probably get in another fishing trip.
So, that dance thingâs coming up on Friday.
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Random thoughts during the broadcast of âJesus Christ Superstarâ
(above image a rehearsal photo from nbc.com)
Mostly written as things occurred, with a small amount of clean-up after.
John Legend as Jesus. That will make certain people have an aneurysm or ten. Then again, they probably view the whole concept of this musical as blasphemy, no matter who is in it; this just adds an extra-special heretical touch.
Interesting. An industrial/scaffolding unit set with, Iâll wager, occasional changes and edits as needed.
For some reason, they went with a straight-up Broadway guy for Judas. I'd never really heard of Brandon Victor Dixon before, although I've seen clips of his performances in Hamilton and Shuffle Along. That said, he is the most studmuffinly Judas I can remember seeing, so.
Legend/Jesus' interactions with the (clearly hideously expensive) front rows of the audience, and how he rallies the back of the stadium, are very "concert" indeed. Pulls the audience in, in a way you wouldnât expect from this type of live performance.
Legend brings a bit more voice to the role than I expected, although his body mike has faded in and out on him in a couple of places. Has issues with the pace he should be singing, though; he can't keep up with the places early on where Jesus should be snapping out the lyrics.
Sara Bareilles, of all people, is having a few key issues.
Caiaphas' voice is MAGNIFICENT. (Played by Norm Lewis, who was the first African American âPhantomâ, so a magnificent voice was probably to be expected.)
Not a fan of some of the (admittedly, fairly insignificant so far) musical tweaks they've made to end songs so that they can go into commercial breaks. (Which are, as feared, hammering the pacing -- and given that the early part of JCS basically has NO pacing, that's kind of a feat.)
The guy playing Simon the Zealot has quite the post-punk cheesy 70s aesthetic, he does. Exactly the right voice for the role, too. Though for some reason he gets a stand microphone rather than a body mike.
Legendâs âPoor Jerusalemâ was just beautifully done. Also didnât realize he had the range to go as low as that song pushed him.
Ben Daniels has a lovely voice; what he doesnât have is a strong enough voice for Pilate, even in "Pilate's Dream". Which, considering Pilate doesn't actually require a big voice and given how shouty he has to get later on, makes me fear for his vocal cords.
The part where Jesus throws the moneylenders out of âThe templeâ was quite insufficiently over-the-top, vocally and otherwise. (... OK, massive yet strangely low-key glitter dump at the beginning aside. Made the stage very twinkly, though.) And the pacing of the end of "The Temple", with the lepers, started out very strangely slow, even though itâs designed to start slow and pick up speed as the repetitions build.
Sara Bareilles really is having to fight for some of the notes tonight; her "I don't know how to love him" has some very rocky moments. That said, they helped put the emotional vulnerability in that song over really well, so. (And to be fair, sheâs mostly spot-on, which makes the periodic flat notes stand out.)
The staging and delivery for the end of "Blood Money" was, I must admit, excellent. And Dixon's part in "The Last Supper" makes me really look forward to his "Superstar". (Also, I'm really curious about how Legend is going to handle the five-minute-plus behemoth of "I only want to say/Gethesemane".)
And the answer to the previous question about Gethsemane is: pretty damn well, really. I don't agree with all the choices he's made -- I don't think the operatic falsetto near the end of Gethsemane quite worked, but it was spectacular (also, I just plain didn't know he could do that!) -- but some of the choices he made really worked, going soft in moments where people familiar with the songs might have expected him to go big.
So Many Commercials. SO MANY. (In this context, the John Legend/Chrissy Teagen ad for Google is perhaps just a touch more surreal than intended.)
The modernistic touch of having Jesusâ arrest covered by modern media and mobile phones was very nicely done; added a surreal little touch. Simonâs betrayal and Mary Magdaleneâs horror also well done -- although the cut to commercial that stepped on Maryâs part of the song was NOT.
(Apparently, a revival of this very musical is coming to Chicago this very month. How apropos. Hopefully, nobody buying tickets after this is expecting John Legend to be in it. And again: SO MANY COMMERCIALS!)
Also: so many scarves! Theyâve been everywhere!
Yeah, Ben Danielsâ voice in âPilate and Christâ is very nice, and really not big enough for this. Heâs songspieling (speaking in tune) parts of it to get around that, reasonably effectively. The song is about half recitatif, anyway.
Whoever thought of casting Alice Cooper as Herod should get next yearâs casting Emmy award, just for that. (Actually, this whole thing is pretty well cast. But still.) To say nothing of the costuming! A shades-of-orange suit, and a skull-head walking stick! And ... Vegas-style showgirls. Well, of course. That said, this number in the film has a lot of business by Herod that Alice Cooper was never going to be able to perform, so the showgirls make a sort of sense to manage peopleâs expectations. (And ... an actual mic drop. Oh, my. And mugging to the audience -- and the chorus -- in character. Well, then.)
(Regarding the commercial for the Mamma Mia sequel: casting in Hollyweird is insane. Not that Cher having a role in that movie is bad, but the idea that sheâs old enough to be Meryl Streepâs mother is just bizarre. Yes, Cher is older, but the actors are, quite literally, three years apart in age.)
âCould we start again, pleaseâ -- written for the film and brought to this production -- sung by Mary Magdalene and Peter, is very nice. I think this is one of the places where the commercial pacing hurts the production; this quiet moment coming out of what was effectively a five-minute intermission is just odd.
Dixon did a beautiful job in âBlood Money (reprise)/I donât know how to love him (reprise)/Judasâ Deathâ at putting over Judasâ agony at having betrayed Jesus. Especially with his realization at how he was used by Jesus, even though he still doesnât know why. The staging of his suicide was necessarily stinted -- they couldnât do what the movie did and show him hanging himself, given the stage itself. I wonder what the audience in the theater saw; they couldnât have gotten the view into the scaffolding that the home audience saw. Maybe it was more effective being unable to see anything.
âTrial before Pilateâ is mostly shouting and recitatif, so Daniels is doing OK with it -- or did until the end when he had to shout-sing ... though honestly, it sort of works to not have enough voice for that very emotional moment. Pilate truly does not want to do any of this (and doesnât think he has the authority, either). The staging of the 39 lashes is ... extraordinarily stinted, though it would be a bit much to expect someone to faux-whip Legend on television. That said, it might have been better to just have the sound effects and the counting and his reaction, rather than what they did; the people running past contributed nothing useful.
The staging of âSuperstarâ is, as it should be, very Vegas and very sparkly and very âthat is a large corps de danse, that isâ. And almost entirely without Jesus until near the end. (Itâs usually staged as being sung at Jesus during or before the crucifixion process, I think.) I loved how Dixon sung it -- although that was an epic shrill glory note at the end. Not entirely sure why they had him sing in a ragged sequined tank top and shiny shredded jeans, but itâs not like I object. (Also, I think his sparkly silver lamĂŠ pants had a large angel-wings belt buckle. Taking the place of the giant angel-wings-evoking fringe from the film, maybe.)
âThe Crucifixion/John 19:41â is well- and creepily-staged. And includes a really weird and super creepy version of The Ascension, wherein Jesus is bodily assumed into heaven while still on the cross. Which, very technically, may be actual heresy (there was the whole part where they took him off the cross, shrouded him, entombed him, came back three days later to discover the tomb open and the body gone, and THEN came the ascension, and all that gets skipped).
And then the cast takes their very well deserved bows. (And Brandon Victor Dixon does a âWakanda Foreverâ salute in his bow.)
That was, I freely admit, a lot more enjoyable than I thought it would be, and a lot better than I thought it might be. And the technical side of what was obviously a very demanding production was extraordinarily well done. All that said, Iâd love to see a version without commercials, just to see the pacing done right.
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talented amateurs (continued)
well. you know these things are hard to leave alone. I donât know how far this is gonna go, so as with all things of its nature, the bit that isnât standalone is gonna live on tumblr.
talented amateurs is here, and itâs secretly-a-first-chapter is informally titled champagne and bordeaux.
2 - sheets and blankets
It's half past two in the morning, and there's someone else in his bed.
Although, from a technical standpoint, it's not technically his bed, and probably (technically), it actually belongs to the someone else who's invaded it. Creighton-Ward Manor is her legacy, after all. Reasonably, at least from a legal standpoint, Penelope's probably entitled to be wherever the hell she wants.
Whether or not her rights as the heir apparent to the estate in question extend to poking him---insistently---in the ribs with the point of a manicured finger is not a question he knows the answer to.
But then, John's never been great when it comes to the whole concept of archaic feudal law and how much of it still applies to the modern English gentry.
He makes the mistake of opening one eye, and finds Penelope curled up on the other side of the bed, a bare handsbreadth from his face, her blue eyes big and bright and anxious in the moonlight through the bedroom window.
"John?" she whispers, urgent and then, unnecessarily, "Are you awake?"
"No," he grumbles, an immediately obvious lie, even as he groans and pulls the blankets over his head. "G'way."
She prods him in the ribs again and then draws a single shaky breath, to express several discrete concepts as a single word, "John-I-got-drunk-at-a-party-and-I-made-out-with-your-brother-in-a-back-stairwell-and-now-I-can't-sleep-and-I-donât-know-what-to-do."
The tail end of this is an anxious whimper, and that's enough to tweak at John's conscience, even as he starts to drop back off---easier to do than usual, after a long day of travel and merriment and liquor and gravity. He's had a bare and grossly insufficient two hours of sleep, even if he'd managed to turn in a little earlier than the rest of his brothers. And now, for some reason, he's got a bed full of Penelope, whining---or whinging, seeing as it's England---at him. It's possible that the only way to solve this problem is to actually acknowledge her, and---even at half-past two in the morning, still a little fuzzy from all the merriment and the liquor and the gravity---John can still think his way through to the quickest path from problem to resolution. He's a little sullen as he pulls the blankets back down, but nevertheless he rubs at his eyes, and wearily asks, "Which one?"
Penelope sighs in a dramatic and tremulous fashion. "The corridor leading into the east wing off the back of the ballroom."
The silence that follows is painfully unironic.
And so John's not particularly apologetic as he reaches out to pat the top of Penelope's head and then informs her, "I'm going back to sleep."
This is received with a dismayed cry of protest and she seizes hold of his wrist plaintively. "John, please!"
"Okay, okay." It's playing absolute hell with hardwired instincts, the notes of genuine helplessness and distress in her tone, and the way she clasps his wrist with a sort of desperate urgency. She's pushed herself up to kneel on the mattress beside him, desperately entreating him for---well, something. He's not exactly sure what she wants. But whatever it is, whether he likes it or not, John's awake now. He's groggy and still partway drunk and grumpy---but awake. And apparently back on-call. And the first step in any disaster situation is to get himself an accurate sit rep. "Okay. What happened?"
Penelope gives another disconsolate sigh. "Your brother kissed me."
A quick inventory of the roster weighed against what he knows about his brothers, their ages, and their personal preferences suggests only two major possibilities, and Scott's got John and the bottle of cognac they probably shouldn't have split between them for an alibi.
"Gordon kissed you," he hazards, just to make absolutely sure.
Penelope nods, blue eyes wide and guileless in the dark. Her gown for the evening had been a confection of soft purple lace and airy tulle, but she's since changed into a long camisole with a dressing gown to match, and these are both rendered in shimmering ivory satin. It only adds to the illusion of Penelope as a delicate and innocent English Rose, but John's known her far too long to believe that this is anything but an act.
If "English Rose" can be considered a technical classification, then in Penelope's case it extends exclusively to the fairness her complexion, and no further. John's known Penelope to throw arms' dealers through plate glass windows and to vault chain link fences in pursuit of cyberterrorists. Penelope routinely outfoxes the foxiest of the criminal underworld, and does so in more than one sense of the word. Penelope is no more a shrinking violet than she is a ditzy socialite, even if sometimes she'll play the latter, and sometimes---as relates to the inopportune exchange of selfies and assignations in what could apparently have been any number of back stairways---John's not entirely sure that the ditziness is entirely an act. Even so, it's incredibly rare for Penelope to act the damsel. Something isn't adding up.
"Okay," he says again. "Why are you in my bed about it?"
"Your. Brother. Kissed. Me."
John rubs at his eyes again and wonders if this is possibly some sort of lucid nightmare. He doesn't drink often. He resolves to drink much less in future. "Yeah, I got that part. Look, is the implication meant to be that this was something not entirely consensual? Clearly you've had a couple drinks? Penelope, if you're telling me I need to go thrash my little brother for impulsively sucking on your face, then: A---I'll do it, but I'll need to put pants on; and B---pretty sure you could've handled that one yourself."
Penelope huddles miserably in her nightgown and shakes her head. "No," she protests, but weakly. "No, it was---we were both---I mean, I did kiss him first. I started it. That was me."
This is really about as far as it gets from John's general area of expertise. So he reverts to the basics.
"This was a bad thing?" he guesses, basing the assumption on Penelope's general air of distress and the fact that she's huddling miserably in her nightgown on the opposite side of his bed.
"It was lovely," she answers, mournful.
Oh, well, obviously.
John amends his assessment. "This was a good thing."
"I don't know! It was---oh. I just---John, I think he's in love with me. And I---I don't know---I didn't expect..." Penelope takes a shaky deep breath. "What if I hurt him?"
John was not aware that this was a hazard of kissing, as a matter of course, and he winces a little at the mental imagery. "Uh. Well. I don't know about that, but I feel like I can reassure you about Gordon's---um---general...uh...durability? I guess? He's pretty tough. I don't think you could've done anything to him in a back stairway that would've done him any, uh, any lasting harm." He pauses, corrects, "I mean, not if you weren't actively trying to."
Penelope swats him on the arm. "Not like that. I mean...I mean what if this isn't what he wants it to be? What if I'm not? What if I've taken the most terrible advantage? I wasn't thinking about it, he was just there and we were just talking and then it just happened and---oh. Oh, I don't know. If I broke his heart, I don't think I could bear it."
This is either a problem of perspective or a problem of scale, and John isn't certain which. This is really, absolutely not his area of expertise. "...is that...I mean, do you think that's likely?"
"I don't want it to be."
"Well, it sounds like that's a start, anyway." John hesitates a moment and tries to come up with something genuine, useful, and likely to make Penelope get the hell out of his bed. "Look, you know this isn't really my area. But I guess---just as general advice goes, I'll tell you what I tell anyone in an unfamiliar situation: don't be hasty, think carefully, and try not to do anything stupid. You'd be shocked how often people actually need to be told not to do anything stupid. Not," he adds hastily, before Penelope can catch up with the sentiment, "that I think you'd do anything stupid. Honestly, Pen, I think the fact that your biggest fear is that you might hurt him is the best indication that you probably won't."
She's listened intently to this instruction, and seems at least a little relieved to be given a clear directive. "Do you really think so?"
"I really do," John tells her solemnly, and hopes that he's been sufficiently convincing. It's very late. He yawns pointedly.
"He's just dreadfully sweet, your brother."
"When he wants to be."
"I do like him quite a lot."
"I'm told he's fairly likeable."
"And he's very handsome."
"This family has reasonably good genes."
"And he's a fantastically good kisser."
"I really don't need to know about that."
"I would very much like to go kiss him some more. Do you suppose he's still awake?"
John pauses. This, actually, sounds like it goes against exactly the advice he's just given---but it would probably get her out of his bed. He wrangles with the answer for only a moment, before he settles on the careful statement, "I think if he's had as much to drink as you have, he's probably off sleeping somewhere equally as ridiculous as in my damn bed."
"So you think I should go find him?"
Categorically not, but---"I think you should get out of my bed, so I can go back to sleep."
"I suppose I should, shouldn't I?" The mattress jostles as Penelope clambers off it, but she doesn't quite leave. In the moonlight through the bedroom window, in her long white dressing gown, she looks almost ghostly. John's already settling back down, nestling beneath the blankets. "You've been very helpful," she whispers, finally taking the hint.
"Just doing my job."
"Thank you very much."
"Mmhm."
âGood night, John.â
By the time the bedroom door opens and closes softly again, John's already halfway back to sleep. He wonders only briefly if he'll even remember this conversation in the morning. Privately, it's possible he hopes not.
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another one between me ân @ptw30, discussing whoâs behind the whole clone/android/faux Shiro.
Lotor?Â
First: how would he have known that Shiro was a) the black lion's pilot? who told him that? We know he and his parents arenât really on speaking terms, and Zarkonâs out of the picture, anyway.Â
b) how would he have known that no black lion means Shiro is gone/dead, as opposed to just badly injured? If Shiro had died in that last battle, and then someone shows up looking just like him, wouldn't the gig be up immediately?
Unless we've entered plot hole hell, whomever came up with the idea had to know that a) Shiro was Black's pilot (a Zarkon piece of info), and b) he was gone but c) not dead.Â
Otherwise the entire concept would've fallen apart as soon as Shiro met up with the paladins -- UNLESS that was never the goal.
Yes, the look-alike was released/let go on the edges of Galra territory, which we know to be a) where Voltronâs been active, and b) where there are multiple if scattered rebel forces. He manages to get himself a pod and just happens to land on the nearest planet, which just happens to have a rebel base, and he just struggles along until he meets up with, tadah, some rebels.
Who unfortunately appear to be quite incompetent, and also somewhat unaware of any of the major events of the past year (or more).Â
However, look at the flip side. Set aside Lotorâs plans, or even Zarkonâs. Somewhere out there is another general as sharp as Sendak, who knows that a) the Champion was a hero to a number of the former prisoners, and b) that Champion escaped, and c) came back as a Paladin and rescued the prisoners held on Sendakâs ship.Â
So if I were that Galra general, Iâd be thinking: I have some of his genetic material from the experiments we ran. I can get a download of everything his arm recorded, maybe from when he logged in at the super-secret space base and the system identified him. Now I have just enough to put together something that could fool someone who had never met him.
As in, all those rebels. Theyâd have heard of his reputation, and Shiroâs own memories include being Blackâs pilot. The android has no idea heâs not the original, but enough of the originalâs personality that heâd gravitate towards fighting back. Thatâs all Iâd need him to do, after all.
Iâd put him somewhere he could meet up with rebels, whoâd connect him to other rebels. And then Iâd have killed several birds with one clone: the rebels would distrust the Paladin-Shiro as not âtheirâ Shiro, and have already exposed all their information to the Champion who -- by reputation and the accumulation of memories -- would probably step into a leadership role. Everything I need to know about the rebel network, Iâd know, and Iâd be undermining everyoneâs trust in Voltron as a result of confusing the hell out of them over whoâs the real Shiro.Â
But if -- and this is the big leap -- the assortment of memories carry an emotional tint that canât be assessed by Galra means prior to installation -- that is, if I had no expectation the fake!Shiro would fight so damn hard to be reunited with the real Paladins -- then that abrupt maneuver (to steal a teeny ship and fly out into deep space on nothing but hope and guts) mightâve surprised me.Â
Not that Iâd care, of course, because I wouldnât do it with only one clone. Iâd have more, each one with just enough original memories and just enough tweaked to be different. When no fake!Shiro starts showing up on my radar with rebel forces, Iâd just assume the first failed and send out the next.Â
....
...
...
uhhhh.
okay so maybe I shouldnât have laughed at @dent-de-leonâs or @radioactivesupersonicâs snark about the multiples of Shiros âcause I think I just worked out a way we could end up with that manyÂ
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In which Harry is a stripperâŚ
3943 words / Mature
The boy who delivered our drinks was only wearing a flimsy, black apron, which was tied carefully around his waist. With the tray perfectly balanced upon the palm of his hand, he began to pass our drinks out, a huge grin on his face, and his cock just inches from my face. I turned to the rest of the girls with wide eyes. âSpecial occasion?â He asked, a thick Irish accent. âIâm getting married!â The bride to be piped up, as smug as ever. âCongratulations!â He beamed. âSad to see you off the market, Gorgeous.â All the girls sat around our table let out almighty giggles, swooning and fanning themselves, whereas I was too busy trying not to turn back in his direction and stare at his groin. I figured he was used to it in his line of work, but it still felt a little intrusive. âWhatâs your name?â Katie barked at him. âNiall.â He replied. âIâll be your waiter for the evening. You need anything, just give me a shout.â âWhat about your number?â
Everyone bar me laughed, because I was still trying to wrap my head around the entire scenario, whereas the rest of the girls were just filled with this new confidence that they would never have anywhere outside an all-male strip-club. It was a first time experience for all of us, and it seemed I was the only one struggling to get into the swing of it. Again, it might just be to do with the fact there was a cock just inches from my face. Niall just grinned again, finally placing down the final drink. âHave a good night, ladies.â He wished. With that he went, the table erupting into another fit of giggles when he turned and revealed his bare arse to us, sauntering away with an undeniable confidence. âCheer up, Ash.â Katie nudged me. âIâm cheery! Iâm just⌠baffled! This is all new territory for me.â I gasped. âWell if you canât cope with this, how are you going to cope when thereâs a bunch of gorgeous guys onstage with their cocks out?â âProbably not very well.â She just laughed at me, and went back to conversing with the girl sat at the other side of her. Katie was a girl Iâd kind of grown up with. My parents knew her parents, and weâd been friends since we were kids, but not really close friends. Iâd met most of the girls a few times, but none of them other than Katie, and Lara, the bride, were really friends. They were all extremely loud and rowdy, and I felt like a damn mouse amongst them. Iâm not sure how long we waited for the act to start, but it felt like a lifetime. You could almost feel the tension building in the room with each passing minute, mainly women, but a few men all eager for the show, waiting for the lights to dim and for the curtains to open. I wasnât necessarily excited, but I knew that if anything, Iâd get a good laugh out of the evening. By the time the lights finally went down, the screams that ran around the room were almost deafening. I cringed with the noise, taking another swig of my bright pink cocktail through my penis shaped straw, still trying to ease into the evening. I cursed the fact we were sat so close to the front. I rolled my eyes when âPonyâ started playing, the squeals around the room still consistent but not quite as loud as they had been, and a few seconds later, the curtains whipped open, two beefy men wandering onto the stage. I rolled my eyes, but smiled. I couldnât help it. They were both huge, tight muscles stretching their skin, and they both looked almost bloody identical. You couldnât pick the two of them from a damn line up. They were exactly what I pictured strippers to look like. âIâm already having, the best time.â Katie gawped. They both started out with a pretty simple routine, just walking around the stage with their white tank-tops on, eyeing up everyone in the room like they wanted to fuck them. I snuggled a little further into my seat, staring at their feet briefly and noticing they were barefoot as they began to finally dance along, and again, the screams got louder. I glanced around the table, a few of the girls fanning themselves already even though theyâd barely moved. I was slowly allowing myself to get into the swing of things, ignoring how bizarre the concept was and just letting myself ogle the men onstage. It was pointless not doing. Their bumping and grinding continued for a while, all their clothes still intact, and I think at one point I even cheered them on. It was after the first chorus that a third man walked onstage. My eyes widened. âHoly. Shit.â I breathed. The screaming around the room hit a new height. He wasnât like the other men. He wasnât quite as ripped, nor was he as tanned, but he was fascinating. He had this long, flowing, curly hair, his body covered in random tattoos, splattered over his perfectly toned body like heâd just allowed twenty random tattoo artists to do whatever the fuck they wanted. The smirk on his face was enough to make my stomach churn, because he was fully aware of the fact that even though he wasnât as muscular as the other two, and maybe not as stereotypically attractive, his beauty completely outplayed theirs. He was absolutely fascinating. And he fucking knew it. The other two boys ripped their tops off to join him, the three of them now only wearing loose, black combat pants that rode low on their hips, and then they began to all dance in time with one another. I kept my eyes on the new addition, watching as he bit his bottom lip and ground his hips, staring out to the audience as he bent his knees and snapped his hips, and I was utterly captivated. The way his body rolled should have been illegal, the intensity behind it, the way his figure curved. His tattoos would slowly distort and bend before snapping back into place, and I swear my mouth dropped open. At first, I thought the night was going to be humorous, but then the boy with the butterfly tattoo and the flawless body had stepped onstage, and suddenly I felt uncomfortable in my seat. I watched him trail his large hands slowly down the front of his body, pushing his abs up against his touch before he lagged down to his crotch, grabbing at the area, and I sucked in a large swell of air so quickly that my chest almost hurt. He then yanked his hand forwards, his pants following the movement and leaving him with next to nothing on. I knew the other lads had done the same thing, but they were receiving none of my attention. âHeâs unreal.â I spoke a little louder than I meant to. âHe doesnât look like a stripper.â Katie leaned a little closer to me. âHe looks better!â Dramatically, the three of them dropped to their knees, the speed of their hips quickening, and you could clearly see their dicks bouncing within the tiny, glittered cloth that covered them. All the girls at the table were screaming wildly, but I was silent, fixed rigidly to my spot, my eyes completely fixed on his groin and I wasnât sure I could ever tear them away. âSHOW US YOUR DICK!â Lara yelled. It was only hearing those words that allowed me to lift my eyes, but when I did I regretted it immediately. He was looking at me. With that dimpled smirk and those low eyes, he was looking right at me, smug after seeing me staring at his cock for so long. He tweaked his brows and bit his bottom lip again as he pushed so he was back on his feet, cracking his neck to the side so that his long hair all fell over one shoulder. His lips were so pink, only amplified when he slowly ran his tongue over them, wetting them so much that they began to almost sparkle beneath the pink stage lights. He was still fucking looking at me. So when he jumped off the stage, I think I knew that I would be his target. I stiffened even more, if that was possible, and watched him approach me, all the girls around me completely losing their shit, but I could barely even acknowledge their presence. I just watched him, and with each step he became that bit more human. He walked out of the blinding lights and into the darkness where I sat, each feature becoming clearer as he moved, so I could distinguish even the smallest blemish on his skin. He looked so damn happy with himself. âOh shit. Iâm gunna die.â I mumbled to myself. He pinched his fingers at the back of my chair, just over my shoulder, and the pulled his body forward, straddling my hips, and leaning his lips to my ear. âAre you okay with this?â He spoke lowly. His voice. Fuck, his voice. I felt like I was going to die anyway. I had one of the most beautiful boys I had ever seen in my life with his scantily-clad dick pushed against my groin, his long curls tickling my neck and the top half of my chest, his own chest shining and just inches away from me, and I swear I could almost hear the birds tattooed on his skin singing to me. And then he fucking spoke, and I almost collapsed. His voice was so deep, and husky, and kind and hot and breath-taking, and how heâd managed to hold all those things within his voice and just a few words, was completely dreamlike. He slowly pulled his head back, his forehead almost pressed against mine as he waited for my approval, but all I could do was nod. The very second I did, he thrust his hips even closer to me, grinding against my unyielding frame as I solely concentrated on not having a breakdown. My eyes focused on his butterfly tattoo, but it wasnât much help. I could see each flex and twitch of his body, the light layer of sweat heâd built during his performance, and I thought I was going to faint. I lifted my eyes up to his face, seeing the way he smiled as he worked his body against mine, his hair dishevelled and perfect and I felt even worse. âTouch me.â He demanded. âWhat?â I cried. âLet loose.â He sniggered, and I could just about hear him through the shrieks of the women around us. âTouch me.â I nodded again, shakily reaching my hand and tracing the very tips of my fingers down his body, feeling his gorgeous muscles beneath my touch, and I think I near whimpered. âFuck me.â I trembled. âIf you want.â He grinned. âNo! No, I meant- Shit.â He pushed back off me, and then offered his hand, stood ahead of me with an arrogant smile and flushed cheeks, and I didnât even know what the fuck I was doing as I placed my hand in his. I was completely wrapped up in him, somehow becoming blind to my surroundings, and it had been that way ever since he stepped offstage. It was only when I realised that he was dragging me back onstage with him that I fell with a thud back into reality. âAre you kidding me?â I gasped, yanking my hand from his. He turned back to me, pulling his body so it was close to mine, and he softened, completely changed just for a few brief moments, like it was just me and him. âYouâll only be onstage for two minutes. I promise. I donât wanna force you, but I promise youâll be fine.â I nervously bit at my bottom lip, noting that the smirk of his that Iâd grown accustom to had fast become this kind smile, one that was impossible to say no to. I placed my hand back in his, and allowed him to drag me back onto the stage, one of the other men pulling a chair from seemingly nowhere and placing it in the centre of the stage, which I soon sat down on. I looked out to the girls I was there with, just about being able to make them out beyond the lights that now beat down hard onto my skin, and I could see them all dying. Some were on their feet, others were fanning themselves, others were laughing, I was pretty sure I even saw a couple of them crying. But I couldnât dwell on it for too long, because within seconds, the boy with the curls was back with me, throwing my legs apart so he could stand between them, and then he rapidly lifted his right leg so he could press his foot against the back of my chair, his arse on show for the audience and his dick in my face. Iâd struggled with the waiter earlier. This time, I thought Iâd seen my life flash before my eyes. He thrust in my face, the squeals and cackles coming from the audience ringing in my ears as I forced my eyes back upwards, trying to ignore the flailing dick in my face, but that also involved ignoring the sheer size of the thing, which wasnât an easy thing to do. He lowered his leg quite quickly, and I wondered if this was something that usually went on a little bit longer and he was just rushing through the process because he knew I was dying inside. He dropped down to his knees, still between my legs as he forced them even wider, and every time I thought the crowd couldnât scream louder, they proved me wrong. He threw his head forward, and I knew exactly what it looked like to the audience, but even though his face was scarily close to my core, he was purely smiling up to me, as smug as he had been when he walked onstage for the first time. My stomach was in complete tatters. He jumped back to his feet after just a few seconds with his face between my legs, and then he took my hand again, dragging me to my feet and holding my hand up high before he leaned to my ear again. âWhatâs your name?â He asked. âAsh.â I mumbled. âLADIES AND GENTLEMAN,â He called to the room. âPLEASE SHOW YOUR APPRECIATION FOR OUR GUEST STAR FOR THE EVENING, ASH!â I saw all the girls were on their feet by that point, cheering me happily and all still kind of falling over themselves over what had just happened. None of it made any sense to me. After Iâd accepted my applause for a while, he once more took his lips to my ears, erupting an army of goose-bumps, lavishing my entire body when his low voice called to me, and only me. âGo backstage,â He instructed. âTheyâll sort you out.â I was surprised my legs were still working, in all honesty. I gave the crowd a timid wave before I ran off the side of the stage, where a man with a big smile and a glass of champagne stood waiting for me. âYou did great.â He cooed once I was beside him, passing me the drink. âI think I need fresh air.â I gasped, before immediately downing the entirety of the drink heâd handed me. âIs there anywhere I can go?â âSmoking area just through those doors.â He pointed me in the right direction. âH once practiced on me, and I swear I questioned if I was straight or not afterwards.â âH?â I questioned as he took the now empty glass from me hands. âI canât tell you his name.â He sniggered. âNice try.â âNo, I didnât- Fuck. Never mind. Thank you!â I scuttled off towards the doors he had pointed me to, hearing the crowd cheer behind me as the music came to a halt, and although it had been the first of three shows going on that night, I wasnât sure I had the capacity to sit through anything else. I also knew that there wasnât a chance they could produce another boy who had that same effect on me that the tattooed boy had. It felt like a physical relief once I was finally outdoors. The evenings wind was bitterly freezing and exactly what I needed as I pressed my back against the bare brick wall, my breath coming out in thick clouds that rose towards the sky before disintegrating, and I watched each desperate pant in an attempt to calm and cool down. I felt I was a few seconds away from being successful when I heard the doors open. I whipped my head in their direction, and there he was again. The mysterious, infuriatingly sexy, H. He was slightly more covered than he had been, some grey sweatpants that were so low around his hips that I could see the beginning tufts of his pubic hair. He was still breathless, his torso still bare, and his feet bare too. My whole body went tight again. âHi.â I gasped. He smiled, letting the heavy door shut behind him, seeming a little confused to see me there, but happy nonetheless. âHello.â He greeted. âIâm sorry if I ruined your show!â I blurted. âWhat?â âI totally freaked. I couldnât let loose, Iâm sorry.â âWhy did you freak so much?â He asked, slowly approaching me. âHave you looked in a mirror? Ever?â I shivered. âThatâs why.â He chuckled as he approached me, running his large hand through his hair so that most of his curls fell to one side, and then he stopped in front of me, our bodies just inches from each other. This, with him in front of me, looking down to me with eyes that I could now see were green, was somehow more intense than anything had been whilst we were out there with the crowd. There was something in the way he looked at me, and how I could finally feel exactly how cold it was when he was close. âYou didnât ruin anything.â He told me. âI enjoyed it. I picked you on purpose.â âOh.â I swallowed. âWhy?â âItâs not that often we get quiet people here. People sometimes⌠take it a bit too far and⌠make us uncomfortable. Which is quite the task.â He grinned. âYou seemed⌠tame. I like that.â âI donât think anyone has ever complimented me for being tame before.â I chuckled awkwardly. âNo?â He lowered his brows. âDonât tell me Iâve got you wrong.â âI dunno.â I shrugged, laughing lightly. âIâm not all tame.â âProve it.â My head banged against the wall behind me, once again my eyes wide as I thought over his challenge, watching him edge even closer to me. I managed to pull some confidence from somewhere, throwing away my logical thoughts and pushing up to my tiptoes so that I could press a soft kiss to his lips, just briefly, before I fell back down to my regular height. I stared up to him, an apology on the very tip of my tongue before he threw his head forward, kissing me fiercely. His hands found their way to my waist, pushing me up against the wall as his tongue broke into my mouth, grunting as soon my lips widened to welcome his taste. Our kiss was desperate, needy, hot and rattled. Iâd fucking dreamt of what his lips were like on my body pretty much from the moment I saw him walk onstage, but those dreams didnât compare to the real thing. I had no idea why he was choosing to kiss me, if this was something he did every night with every innocent woman that he dragged onstage, but I didnât even care. His tongue felt like heaven as it laced with mine, his large hands seemed to completely engulf my waist, and it was like all that tension Iâd felt in there was washing away. His hands began to move down my body, and before I knew what he was doing, he was hitching my dress up, his fingers hooking through my underwear. âDo you want me to fuck you?â He gasped against my trembling lips. âI donât even know your name.â I gasped back. âHarry.â He groaned, moving his lips to my neck. âNow can I fuck you?â âYes.â He moved his hand and cupped my heat, before snaking two fingers into me, the digits sliding in with total ease. âDid I make you this wet?â He lifted his lips to whisper in my ear. âTell me.â âYes.â I whimpered. With that, he fucked his fingers into me with harsh speed, his thumb rubbing against my clit and my legs buckling. He pressed his body even further into mine, trapping me between his frame and the wall so that I didnât completely fall to the floor. He moved to bite harshly at my neck, grunting as his fingers worked into me and made me weak, my pleasure leaking onto his skin, hot again regardless of the fact we were outside in the dingy smoking area of a fucking stripper club. The work of his hands sent shivers and trembles flirting through my entire body, my hand snaking up to grip at his hair as I felt myself breaking, his thumb moving even quicker and his teeth biting at my neck. I stopped breathing as I came, and he moved his head so he could see my face, and once again he was smug, the left hand side of his top lip tugging upwards as he watched me ride it out. âFuck.â I gasped as he took his fingers and pulled them away. There was a loud crash behind us, the two of us whipping our heads in the right direction, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, but it didnât really work. âWoah, shit, fuck, sorry.â Niall, the boy who had originally served us gasped, standing in the doorway but turning to look indoors. âH, youâre on again in five.â âOkay. Cheers.â He grumbled back. Once again, we were left alone, Harry looking back down to me, his Adams-apple bouncing as he lifted his fingers to his mouth, lightly sucking on them, relishing my taste. âIâm sorry.â He grumbled. âI have to go.â âFuck.â I gasped again, still not back on earth. âStay backstage.â He demanded, gripping the back of my neck, his fingers still wet. âStay back here.â âMy friends-â âFuck your friends.â âItâs a hen-party.â I baffled. âI really should get back.â âFine.â He smirked, stepping away from me. âWell, go sit with them again, but after the last show⌠when one of the bouncers comes up to you and asks if youâve left something backstage, you say yes. You understand?â âYes.â I nodded nervously. âGood.â He smirked, backing away from me. âWell, in that case⌠Iâll finish you in a few hours.â I hated how confident he was, because it only increased my nerves, and held them beneath a magnifying glass. âOkay.â I trembled. He pushed through to get back indoors, watching me from the doorway and saying one final thing before he disappeared, leaving me breathless and flustered among the brick and concrete. âYou taste amazing, by the way.â He sneered, and Iâd never wanted anyone so much in my life.
#woops#so this happened#If You Want It#iywi#me#mine#1dff#Harry Styles#One Direction#Harry Styles ff#Harry styles fanfic#one direction fanfiction#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles one shot#Harry styles imagine
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Cutting off diseased parts of the design
I'd like to get back into the habit of writing regular blog posts for Alchemy Punch. Partially because I think it's good to talk with fans and other developers as the game is being made, but also because development has largely shifted to a one-man affair. I don't like the idea of making big decisions without being forced to articulate myself, so I figured I may as well voice my thoughts on a public platform so others can comment or learn from them.
In fact, to be honest, this very blog post I was wondering whether or not to share as I donât know how readable it is. I usually like to write blog posts with a clear takeaway for people to have, but this might be more useful to someone who is just interested in seeing someone work their way through a problem. Maybe not! Alchemy Punch is a weird project.
I'm going to do a long story short to get you all to understand where I'm coming from:
Alchemy Punch was an idea I had in 2011 and didn't start working on until 2013. It's been frequently neglected due to other projects (read: university) which have demanded my attention. I've realized over the course of it's development that it probably is never gonna be a game which will earn a worthwhile amount of money, but that didn't matter because really I just wanted to make a fun game and learn from that. That included a monetisation system, but the one I've included is quite lite, and now I'm having second thoughts.
Ok. So, let's talk about what this monetisation system is.
Ingredients for the Punch
Part of Alchemy Punch's namesake came from the idea of brewing a sort of potion with monster parts. This potion powers you up, and some ingredients combo well with each other if you are clever. The boosts are meant to go hand in hand with the scoring system â you are encouraged to use them to get high scores, and they aren't meant to feel like a cheat.
It builds up this pacing cycle between games. You grind for ingredient tokens, which you spend after a game to get random ingredients, and then you use your best ones to go for a high score. If you pay some money, then each token instead allows you to choose between two different ingredients, instead of just one. The only way the game makes money is from those who want more control over which powerups they get.
I like this system purely as an addition to the game. It also fulfils one of my original goals of making Alchemy Punch a way I would make any other game, and to learn as much as I can through each step of the process. Basically, I can learn more from a bad monetisation system than a non-existent one. But the crux of this post is that I'm not sure if they're worth keeping.
Why get rid of Ingredients
They're in a bit of a worrying state. Right now there are around 10 different ingredient types and that's not enough, considering you can use 3 per round (with no duplicates) and they are meant to have interesting interactions with each other. The alpha test didn't reveal any substantial information about the ingredients, which makes them basically untested. This is mostly because the game wasn't sticky enough for anyone to notice them, which is a whole other problem in itself. I could expect maybe a month of just testing ingredients to get any sort of idea on where they are at. That includes balancing, adding new ones, removing bad ones, and tweaking them to make them more fun.
The problem is, I want to be releasing as soon as possible. I'm aiming for releasing early May, which means that the beta would need to be out by early April if ingredients really will only take one month to test. So that's a month to finish everything else, and I'm pretty uncertain that I can make that timeframe considering the game's current inability to stick to players.
Like all scoping decisions, what this comes down to is Value vs. Cost debate. Right off the bat, my value estimate is biased as hell. I've had this system in the front of my mind for 4 years. If I try to be objective, I think it fits game design models fairly well, but also works off of a lot of assumptions. High scores are best suited for competing with friends, but I don't even know if the game will be popular enough for anyone to have a friend to play with. Also, this system only augments score competition, which the game already caters for. It's also useless if people don't experiment with different combinations, which is already pretty complicated for a game of this style. And finally, all this meta-game pacing might just be an unnecessary layer on top of the standard game's pacing, which I already think is quite good.
What I'm getting at is that I can say that a lot of it is good, but most of it is probably unnecessary. And I think I'm beyond the point where I can really include anything unnecessary anymore.
Replacing the icing on the cake
That said, it's not an option to just gut the game of the ingredient system and call it a day. That leaves out monetisation and user retention. As much as I want to release early, I also don't want to half-ass my original goals of the project, which is to really and truly release a game that at least has the semblance of an attempt to sustain development of further titles.
But I've been in a tricky position with Alchemy Punch for a while. I've learnt that games which lack an avatar can't take advantage of one of the simplest ways to monetise, which is different character customisation. We could go with a bunch of UI reskins, but I think that's historically been a pretty weak customisation, and could easily take 1-2 months of artwork to do properly. The only obvious options make the game less fun, and I still have too many reservations about Alchemy Punch to say that a good monetisation system will even really make a difference.
Now, a long time ago, I spoke with someone who advised that I just add a tip button in the game. I want to try that. The obvious problem is that a tip jar is probably the weakest possible monetisation system. At least ostensibly, players are notorious for undervaluing mobile games and therefore won't pay anything they don't have to. This isn't a leadup to me saying that's wrong, I strictly do not know. But I figure that if nothing else, the numbers that I'll get back from who tips and who doesn't would be interesting â and the thought of people willingly supporting me is really pleasant. Besides, if I'm being honest, I don't think it's significantly less viable than what I had before. It might even be more so.
User retention will require something a bit more robust. I've always liked the idea of daily runs or challenges, where everyone tries their best for one game and then goes on their merry way. The implementation of it also is exciting me at the moment, and anything that builds up my motivation is a smart choice at this stage.
Takeaways from the Process
This is a tricky one.
Ultimately, big decisions like this need to come down to consulting the original values of the project. Alchemy Punch's values are:
Get the experience of making a game
Experiment and learn things in a space where that isn't punished
Make a fun game that I'll be proud of
Making money has never been on there, and it's too late to add it. I don't see any other monetisation system filling all three of those values without taking a really long time, which would hamstring my first goal by denying myself the opportunity to work on another game. And besides, I'm starting to leave the time in my life where I can just be doing things for free. I'm having to add up costs like food and rent, and ideally I won't have to flip burgers to meet those quotas.
I guess the real advice is to consider monetisation really early and then immediately test those designs. Ingredients were a fairly early concept but weren't tested until almost three years later. If I had spent the time to test them, I would have learnt that they were a lot of design work, and could have shifted a lot to find a better solution.
Anyways, I hope you learnt something from this post, even if it's just a little bit of insight of the workings behind Alchemy Punch. Feel free to hold me up to my promise of doing a blog post a week, or to ask any questions which I might be able to answer in the future. I'd like to do a blog post on the design, and maybe if people are interested, a blog post on the history of it's development since it's now been, what, almost a quarter of my life? Man, that's a depressing thought. Yeah, let me know what sounds good to you.
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CFAC 09 Entries -- Part 1
First image by SpaceWeaver
Second image by Rob Joseph
Third image by Diego Gisbert Llorens
Iâm not sure Iâve ever seen so many innovative designs. You all are really hitting this challenge hard. Itâs awesome!
@amtgplayer
This is one bizarre take of the âPvEâ idea: it fits in a normal game of multiplayer Magic, and mostly act as a normal Magic card â except with some probability, the players will then need to fight a monster together. (I took care that it only triggers in multiplayer.)
A major downside of this idea is that it is hard to describe a formidable adversary on a Magic card. Still, I think this example reasonably simulates a prison player that sits behind Ghostly Prisons. (Disclaimer: I donât actually play multiplayer, so maybe Iâm off by a lot.) Other âenvironmental playersâ can replace drawing cards with more interesting actions, like exiling cards from its ownerâs library and casting some without paying the mana cost.
I donât know how many rule problems will come with this idea, but I imagine the rule of thumb âthe owner of the card makes all possible decisionsâ should eliminate most of them. (Yes, that means it âturns onâ things like Fact and Fiction.)
This design is incredibly bizarre and absolutely nothing I ever expected to see. Masu will always have at least one intervention counter so it does become a big hurdle players have to commit to pretty quickly in order to take her down. Furthermore they have to do this after having their fields wiped. I think that task might be a little too difficult as is, but this is just so weird that I couldnât say for sure. It does make for an interesting addition to a pillow fort deck--essentially telling players to attack this instead of the pillow fort player (though if they eliminate the real player this card leaves the game anyway so maybe it just means they should put more pressure on that player).
There are definitely a ton of rules issues but the concept here is really exciting. Well done!
Two points!
@dimestoretajic
Okay, hereâs the thing.
I have no clue how Rain would affect the battlefield. None. I 100% believe it could work for the fan block, possibly in the same way weather affects combat in PokĂŠmon, but how it would work outside of âthings happen when itâs raining, or sunny, or snowing, or windyâ, I have no clue. But⌠enjoy this âweather mattersâ card anyway? ^^;
Also Native American block FTW. :D
So basically the Steamflogger Boss of this contest. ;p The stats are reasonable, all depending on how Rain actually functions but even itâs easy to turn on, Iâm imagining something a la world enchantments or planechase planes--you only have one active at a time so other players could make it sunny or whatever to negate the bonus. Weather matters is an intriguing concept.
Two points!
@morbidlyqueerious
So, this tackles two separate things, namely âangels that donât careâ from @nine-effing-hells and darkbond from @conorace . Â Iâm honestly not certain if this card even needs to be black, actually. Â Also, the artifact thing is mostly from the art, but maybe itâs also unneeded?
I love the story that the flavor text adds to the effect here. As far as the effects go, I think it could be either WU or WB--white typically exiles while both blue and black steal things. If you wanted to push it, since the exile is creature removal, this could be bent into mono black. But at the same time it makes it even more iconic to have an unusual mana cost like this. Basically development can tweak that knob so it fits best in whatever set itâs in, which is nice.
The effects make sense but itâs in a bit of a weird space--just exiling one creature isnât a huge play for a big investment on an otherwise vanilla creature, whereas if you get to steal a creature (and get an ETB trigger if it has one) for the same cost itâs a much bigger play without actually investing more (aside from running stuff that gets your opponentâs cards into exile first). Other than that I think an angel without flying would confuse a lot of players and that the art here is ambiguous enough that it could fly probably.
Two points!
@origins15
My thought process was inspired by the creation of atraxa from a lore perspective, how each praetor had a keyword of their color put into the creation. This is a collaborative effort between Sheoldred and Vorinclex. Their creation is ravenous, and is only sated through blood or mana.
I chose Phyrexian mana for flavor reasons, and I also felt that having the only payment option being two life would have been a little strong.
This is clearly a rattlesnake (rattle-gorgon?) something thatâll be a great defensive option, but can get some attacks through when necessary.
Nice use of Phyrexian mana. Cards that want other players to pay for something always run into this sort of problem and being able to pay two life instead of colored mana is an interesting option.
The problem is this is a lot of text to read sitting across the table, upside down, on an opponentâs card. Most players will accept it as a menace and deathtouch wielding gorgon and forget they can change that. However I think perhaps you could make effects like this a small focus in a set and perhaps give them a special frame in order to draw attention to them and clue players into the fact that they should be reading them pretty explicitly and keeping them in mind.
Two points!
@outerspace-messiah
Reading the creative bit, I figured story telling was a very important part of this plane, so I wanted to create a story telling mechanic. Chronicle acts like haunt or cipher in that itâs exiled and attached to the creature, but when it dies, it passes the story to another. Of course, not having another creature to pass the card to means the story is lost.
For the card itself, it looks like a lot because of ETB effect, but I was merely going for something flavorful based on the art that other Chronicle cards donât have to have. The ETB turned out to work mechanically well with Chronicle though!
And of course, my only worries for the mechanic are the same as the problems with Haunt and Cipher, but that be a lesser problem since this is an unofficial set.
Which plane? We have a few weâre deciding from but no decision has been made yet. Chronicle is a neat mechanic, and it does have its issues. For one, being a permanent type that would remain on another creature but which is technically in exile is a big headache.
While mechanically quite different, my first thought was what if you had a Bestow variant that went on enchantment creatures and basically did what Chronicle does, except it would be attaching the aura to another creature (and thus it would still be on the battlefield). Â Cool card, but itâs a lot to unpack and a tough area to play in.
Two points!
@sphinxs-revelation
I hope you recieved my lengthy submission for the Arcana mechanic on MtGFanset. This card is obviously intended as an enabler for it, though even without it, it leads to some interesting choices, espescially in multiplayer. It lets you help your teammates or appease would be enemies. You might want to reveal something harmeless⌠or better show them why not to mess with you?
Arcana actually posted from the queue, either earlier today or late yesterday, Iâm not sure which.
Numbers on the card are solid here, especially since the lifegain is symmetrical. It is really cool to see just how many cards support this sort of effect, how innate they are to the game, and how the presence of such a mechanic can totally change how you evaluate those cards.
As for Arcana, it seems like it could be big trouble developmentally. Maybe a one-off fan set can skirt that trouble. Hedron Alignment gives free reveal triggers on your entire hand each upkeep. Madcap Experiment makes this totally broken by loading Arcana cards while putting in only as many artifact cards as are necessary to keep from dying. Just something people would definitely have to be aware of when working with this.
Two points!
#cfac 09#entries#amtgplayer#dimestoretajic#morbidlyqueerious#outerspace-messiah#sphinxs-revelation#origins15
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overall review of season 1 of panic on amazon prime. i haven't read the book (though i soon plan to), so i'm not sure how much of what i love about panic is from the book or show but seeing as how lauren oliver wrote both the book and the screenplay, we can assume a good majority of it came from her and i'd like to give credit to her for that.
that being said, i think the whole concept of panic could've been so much more thematic and deeper with just a different villain. word vomit below.
THE THEMES, VILLAINS, AND ENDING
all small towns are the same. filled with secrets and scandals that everyone finds out eventually, crowded, seemingly inescapable. removed from the reality and sanity of the wider more diverse world. that's what we know from all shows set in small towns.
carp, texas is a character. any good show about small towns should recognize that that town must be a character, and when the small town comes with a deadly game, it makes sense for the town to be an ominous villain.
i wish this had been a more consistent thing throughout the show. after more than a year of lockdown, financial complications, continuous conflict between younger and older generations, upper and working classes, and politicians and constituents, it would've made sense to me for the story to align all of those villainous stories together. panic (the game), is apparently something that has gone on at least as long as all of the locals can recall. it doesn't make sense that the parents of the kids, or the cops on the force would be clueless about how the game works if they were once players and judges themselves. especially since the oldest character on the show, anne, seemed to know enough about it that she didn't even have any questions. how could this game survive in a town full of players and spectators? how is it still a mystery? there's not much keeping others' mouths closed if they're not concerned with playing and spectating privileges anymore.
personally, i would've loved if the judges-slash-villains were like the "elders" of the town a la the secret circle. i would've loved for anne to be the benevolent mastermind of the whole thing, believing in keeping the tradition alive and testing the wills of these kids before they go off into the rest of the world. she's already shown to be a risk-taker, a believer in respecting the danger and courage of things. the sheriff could still be in on it and running the numbers, which he keeps from the other judges, and keeps the cops from catching on or stopping it while playing the grieving dad for all of them. one is spurlock, who pretends to be a territorial nutcase every year while knowing the contestants are crawling all around his property and grabbing whatever innocuous trinket he's planted around. one's a teacher at the high school, who can identify which theatrical charismatic students would make good emcees, which sneaky secret-genius students could be spies for them, etc.
maybe anne and melanie cortez are friends. maybe when melanie reveals that jimmy intentionally threw the game and killed himself due to cortez' influence, anne could sick the tiger on him personally (not that i endorse the mistreatment of wild animals ofc). heather getting the money would make more sense when ray and dodge also really needed it. where the money even comes from would make sense. how the game survives would make sense. maybe that's even more cliche than the hiram lodge expy. but at least it would've been a more cohesive story.
and imo, panic (the game) and the character studies were the best parts of the show. it didn't need the drug subplots, or the gambling red herrings, or constant mystery about who was crazy, who was a liar, and who was just desperate. it could've just been a show about teenagers trying to get ahead in a world that has told them they are powerless by literally risking everything they have (their futures, their bodies, their lives, their cars, their phones). teenagers don't have a lot. and $50,000 could be life-changing and life-saving for all of them in a world the renders you financially dependent on your parents, who hit you (bishop), lock you up (ray), steal from you (heather), control you (natalie), or manipulate you (dodge) for years and years and years after you're told you're an adult only in name. and this is only highlighted by the fact that most of the kids only have one parent or guardian to begin with.
like i said in a post before, the actual villain and the actual show ending kind of just felt like they were throwing conflict after conflict on the screen, pinned it on a character that the audience already didn't like, killed him, and then gave all the characters what they wanted anyways. it felt like hiram and riverdale and how he has a hand in politics, business, drugs, local gangs, and the mafia. and also a bad father and husband. and is also willing to kill teenagers and children for the lulz. cause he had a giant boner to pay off some debts? if you say so.
if what i read in the book is correct, this ending is not remotely in the book and was probably added to the show to give a surprise to people that already read the book. or just to beef it up. i think they could've come up with something better and more original, personally.
KUDOS
i love that it's set in texas. though the southern accents come and go with much struggle, i love that they mention the rodeo and take it seriously. i love that the cops wear cowboy hats. i love that they acknowledge the nature around the setting through all the farms and animals and insects. i love that there's a lot of anxiety around pay, employment, drugs, and reputation without completely losing the charm and beauty of the surroundings. being from a small town in south carolina, it really felt so familiar.
i loved the casting for heather, she was a very natural actress even though she always had me wondering what other wavy-haired blonde actress she was reminding me of (the answers were jessica rothe, kathryn newton, or angourie rice, by the way). jessica sula always kills it, and did a good job of not playing a character that gets killed off this time. the acting and characterization for dodge was good, though we lost his mysterious-spartan-ambitious bits at times and then he was just another white boy plotting and swinging at people. moira kelly is always great, but given very little to do. shame.
i loved the writing of the relationship between heather and her mom. i thought it was on point with french and his mom on the oa. reminded me quite a bit of jlaw's character and her mom in poker house. i see from a brief summary of the book that this was not heather's first motivation for joining the game in the book and kudos to them for fixing that. it looks like they tweaked dodge's goal from killing ray to hurt luke to instead be to arrest luke, which works so much better with dodge's character imo.
i loved some of the smaller characters and details. i loved loved loved both diggins and summer and the idea that these two were handpicked just to be emcees--maybe because i was such an insufferable talkative teacher's pet/go-getter/theatre kid that i know i probably would've been tapped for it had i grown up in carp. super small detail but i love how they just casually mention that sarah is ray and luke's half-sister. maybe because i was the kid with the huge complicated family in a small town and i know everyone would often look at me and my siblings and cousins and ask others how we were related. i loved that natalie was allowed to be really nasty and still a sympathetic character. i loved troy. you really do have to be a badass to be androgynous in a small town. i loved that they showed brief glances of their home life. i loved drew and how he was still involved even though he wasn't competing.
GRIEVANCES
on the other hand, some characters were just really unnecessary. why did adam and troy ever get storylines? why were natalie's dad and christine given so much to do when a lot of it was telling us things we already knew? i'm not sure why dayna had (very much well-deserved) angst about her family's ableism when there was no follow-up to it. why were there scenes between heather's mom's abusive sort-of boyfriend and ray's older brother? why did the photographer have multiple scenes? we barely know them!! all these scraggly white men look alike!! why were leela and hunt multi-scene characters? it was so quick and irrelevant that i didn't even get the actual explanation, but bishop and natalie were judges for some reason? and sarah found the money? heather made up stories and was teased to be a writer? there was an underground drug den and a bunker under spurlock's house? abby aborted a baby? some kid pulled a gambit and died on the spurlock farm? because of the game or because of drugs? and there were several mentions that one character used to date another character in the past, that one character had this occupation or this habit, and i honestly couldn't tell you why they wasted script paper on it, much less actual production and air time. feel free to let me know if there was more plot relevance to these things that i'm just missing, cause that's entirely possible.
also... why was little bill? he was only around to freak heather out, tell us that anne's nice, and remind everybody that hey, people in small towns do drugs!!! and they die from it!! and when he and/or his body are burned alive in a house all the main characters got out of, it's mentioned a couple times and then never again. and there's already plenty of other characters whose storylines and development completely revolve around drugs and anne being nice to them. so why. honestly, i found it kind of offensive and potentially racist, but i don't think it's my place to talk on it so i'm gonna take cues from others on that matter.
next, ray. i'm just gonna say it. the casting was not good there. ray nicholson acted the role well, don't get me wrong. but he looks at least a decade older than a high school senior. it was off-putting. it made the heather x ray scenes super uncomfortable, so much so that i can't ship them even though i truly love a good girl/bad boy, enemies to lovers, belligerent sexual tension ladykiller in love type of thing. but i just couldn't like ray. he could not appear to be some kind of impulsive manchild to me when he instead came off as an overgrown bully taking advantage of barely-legal girls and bullying high-schoolers and taking their money when he should be working a full-time job as a mechanic or something. yuck yuck yuck. and even if i can see the appeal of their relationship to the narrative, not sure why heather chose him over bishop other than he wasn't going off to college (even though I figured heather was going to college since she got the money?)
the pacing was really weird. i think they were trying too hard to end every episode on a cliffhanger or something, because it absolutely butchered the tension of every scene it happened in. they constantly revealed really big things off-screen while keeping the filler fluff i mentioned above on-screen.
can we, as a society, stop making cop characters anything but vague villains who get in the way? we really didn't need to know anything about their personal lives. like, at all.
also, why did cortez call his wife "caramel" in the first scene with her? had me confused af. thinking caramel was a cat i missed or if he was shaming her for eating candy or if she was drinking caramel-flavored wine or something. what kind of pet name is caramel? what the fuck.
CONCLUSION
honestly, between panic and the wilds, i think amazon prime could really benefit from bringing on some writing consultants or test audiences to prevent this kind of incohesive and inconsistent writing from happening in the future. it seems to be continuously holding back a great story from being an epic one.
that is all to say that only something i love a lot can inspire this many thoughts about it, and now that i've finished all ten episodes and am about to start the book, i will be diving straight into the fandom, thank you.
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