#anyways the way the realm of darkness is depicted in these games is interesting

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts Birth by Sleep - Realm of Darkness

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 12- Whatever It Takes

Summary: This is it, you’re finally going to help save the world and if all goes to plan, bring Bucky back in the process.

Warning: bit o angst

Masterlist

It’s been a solid month since Tony and Rocket have been crafting tirelessly on the construction of the giant time portal machine type deal, or whatever he’s calling it nowadays. And to your great surprise, as well as everyone else’s, the first test run with Clint was an undeniable success.

Compared to the first one with Scott, things have come a long way.

Clint was able to wander around in that alternate universe for a couple minutes without returning with so much as a single scratch. Thus boosting the teams confidence and excitement for the inevitable time heist that’s in the works. So as of now, everyone’s currently brainstorming as to how this will go about for the most successful mission possible.

“Okay, so the how works.” Begins Steve as everyone sits around the large meeting room, glass screens projecting info about the stones displayed in the background, “Now, we gotta figure out the when and where. Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones...”

Tony cuts in with his spout of knowledge, “Or substitute the word “encounter” for “damn near been killed” by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Damn straight, your ass got launched into a Wakandian tree last you saw those goddamn stones.

“Well I haven’t..” Interjects Scott with a puzzled look, confusion clear in his voice, “..but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Oh right, he missed out on all the fun while he was fucking around in the quantum realm.

Sitting on the table you shrug, “Be glad you’ve never seen them, those fucking space rocks will kick your ass if used less then kindly, but it doesn’t matter now. From my understanding we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” You explain as they all listen intently, “And clearly these fucking stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

Tony nods, “Our history. So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick out targets.” Adds Clint as Tony points in his direction, “Correct.”

Steve soon gains everyone’s attention once again, “So, let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Asks the blonde, all eyes turn towards the back corner of the room to find Thor slouched in an armchair, beer can in hand while the other one keeps partially hidden in his pajama pants.

A dark pair of sunglasses conceals whether he’s currently awake or not. “Is he asleep?” Wonders Natasha as Rodney humorously adds, “No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

A few soft chuckles are heard as you listen intently to the god of thunder, “He’s alive, and most definitely sleeping off that last beer.” You muse as they all give a collective curious brow while you simply shrug, “I can hear his heartbeat, and it’s low enough to tell me he’s not dead.....Well, at least not yet.” You mutter, eyeing up the sleeping giant as an idea sparks into your head.

A second later you pick up a discarded empty beer can sitting right next to you on the table before throwing it at the snoozing god, the thin metal smacks against his forehead with that familiar pop of the can sound, falling to the ground with a crackly ting as Thor jolts awake. And back to the land of the living.

“Nordic Santa you’re up.” His head snaps in your direction as he gives a semi-awkward half grin. 

“Ah right, right, thank you angry one.” Points Thor with a genuine smile now as he quickly gets up before walking over to the screen depicting the red swirly like stone substance. Although soon he delves into the finding of the red mass, what it did to his former flame, that he took her to Asgard seeking help for her sickness, how he showed Jane to his mother, and then he immediately got sad and lost all motivation and train of thought on anything related to that stone.

Ah yes, personal trauma. It’ll do that to you.

Later that day when everyone was feasting on some Chinese takeout, Rocket began an in-depth explanation into where the Power Stone was found; by some guy named Quill who stole it from a planet called Morag. After some time later, Nebula revealed that the Soul Stone was retrieved from Vormir, the place where Thanos murdered her sister Gamora.

It’s been an interesting day to day the least.

Now here you are, slouched comfortably in a lounge chair you stole from the other room, flipping around a pocketknife as Natasha and Tony lay on the nearby table with Bruce sprawled out on the floor in all his Banner-Hulkness. Books scattered everywhere as the two Avengers keep comfortable on some decorative couch pillows as you listen to them brainstorm about the stones whereabouts.

Flipping the knife skillfully between your fingers an idea suddenly pops into your head, “Hey what about that time stone guy you were talking about earlier.”

Banner hums, “Doctor Strange.”

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” Wonders Natasha as you mentally question the same proposition when Tony gives his quick witted answer. “Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Adds Bruce, Tony agreeing in an instant. “Yeah, on Sullivan Street?”

“Mmm....Bleecker Street.” Mutters Banner as Natasha interrupts, face shifting to realization. “Wait, he lived in New York?”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Sasses Tony as Banner reveals the truth. “Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.”

Tony coming back with more playful sarcasm, “Have you been listening to anything?”

Suddenly it feels like a lights been switched on in your brain, “Guys.” You quickly implore as they keep silent to listen, “If you pick the right year, wouldn’t there be three stones in New York?” Their faces all collectively shift to astonished realization when Bruce quickly sits up to look at you. “Shut the front door.”

“Well at least someone is paying attention.” Quips Tony as Natasha smacks him with a book.

——

“All right.” Begins Steve as the whole team gathers in the meeting room, “We have a plan. Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You nod, smirking with excitement, “Let’s get these fuckers and maybe end up saving the world while we’re at it.” He sends you a proud grin and within the next half an hour are the eleven of you suited up and standing in a large circle atop the glass of the giant time portal.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us....we lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes....no do-overs.”

“Most of us are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives...and we’re gonna win.” Affirms Steve with a mutual nod, “Whatever it takes.” He gives one last look around the circle of familiar faces before nodding, “Good luck.”

Nudging the muscular blonde, he shares a small smile with you as you quickly return it, “You practice that last night?” Steve chuckles at your amusing comment while Rocket and Scott gush over his admittedly incredible motivational speech skills.

“Just thought the team could use the confidence boost.” Admits Steve as Bruce flicks the motherboards switches to get the time portal up and running. The machine whirs to life while everyone begins putting on their helmets.

Your slightly apprehensive gaze trails to your left where Natasha is standing, she gives a playful smirk as you force a true smile, “See you in a minute.” Chides the red head as you break out into a smirk.

“будь осторожен там Romanoff.” You add, shifting into your natural dialect that she’s all to familiar with, your actual words translating to “be careful out there” as you give her one last flash of a grin.

A hot second later, your body shrinks to the size of an atom as you feel like you’re entire body is free falling out of an airplane in some strange rainbow colored portal that shifts to shimmering diamonds and then finally a blue coral type texture as you find your teams designed route down some swirling tube of blues and bright white lights until at last you land in...

“Holy shit look at this place.” You mutter in absolute awe at the large golden pillars of Asgard, there was no fucking way you were missing out on traveling to this realm. And anyways, Steve kinda made it your task to keep the potbellied god of thunder in check as yourself and Rocket attempt to locate the Reality Stone with Lebowski as your generous tour guide.

Thor smiles fondly, proudly beaming at you with a rare form of happiness as he points towards the large cavernous halls of the royal palace, “Oh this? Yeah, it’s neat isn’t it, I grew up here....played games down this very hallway actually. Me and some friends used to spar one another as children down here with wooden sticks that looked like swor...”

“Thor.” Interrupts Rocket with an annoyed huff, “Remember why we’re actually here.”

You nod in agreement, quickly remembering the current mission, “He’s right. No time to dwell on fond memories, we need to find that stone before anyone sees us. And going by the logic of literally every time traveling movie I’ve ever seen, which admittedly isn’t a lot, but it’s enough that I know no one can see us. Especially you Thor, that would be a big problem for this timeline, so lead the way.”

“Yes, right on that, good point Y/N....okay um...” He looks around for a moment before pointing in the direction of choice, which is down a long spacious hallway, “This way, no ones gonna see us if we go by the dungeons.” Explains Thor as he quickly leads the way down the obnoxiously long hallway that thankfully is decently vacant.

After about five minutes of trekking around the castles interior, Thor guides you and Rocket down a long stairwell of dark grey stone until you reach the bottom floor. There are large basins of fire lighting the way down the lengthy hallway pass, he jogs past a couple golden tinged cells holding a few odd looking prisoners on your way out.

No doubt these fuckers look like they deserve it.

You pay them no mind as Thor hustles silently across the flooring to a door on the far end, though as you’re shuffling past another cell, your eyes land on the green and black clad slender body of a dark haired man laying atop his bed. Face focused towards the white ceiling as he tosses a cylindrical piece of metal in a repeated rhythm only done by that of an incredibly bored individual.

That must be his brother Loki, you draw into conclusion while racing out of sight of the trickster god while Rocket makes haste by your side. Kind of handsome, you think as an unknowing smile finds itself onto your face. God Y/N you truly are a desperate woman. No, just no.

Eventually, Thor leads your little team of three upstairs to some large balcony type area with a grand view of Asgard, the three of you keeping hidden behind one of the multitude of intricately decorated pillars as he eyes up a woman halfway out of a giant door while she accepts some clothing from a maid.

His bearded face lights up in joy as he points a finger towards the brunette woman, “Oh, there’s Jane.” Whispers Thor as she closes the door, the Asgardian maiden leaving and walking elsewhere down another yawning chamber.

“All right.” Starts Rocket as he stands on some ancient rock covered in unknown hieroglyphics before jumping down to face the two of you once the coast is clear, “Here’s the deal tubby. You’re gonna charm her, Y/N’s gonna keep watch, and I’m gonna poke her with this thing..” He shows some strange metal device with three silver prongs sticking out of it, “...and extract the Reality Stone, and get gone lickety-split.”

The optimism off of this creature never fails to astound you.

“Yeah, what he said.” You add with a shrug in Rocket’s direction as Thor sniffs before raising up a finger. “I’ll be right back, okay? The wine cellar is just down here...” Interjects Thor as he slowly begins walking away, clearly ready to abandon his part in the mission, “My father used to have this huge barrel of Aakonian ale. I’ll see if the scullery has a couple of to-go cups.”

“Hey. Hey!” You whisper yell, causing him to stop for the moment, “Aren’t you drunk enough already? Fuck that fancy wine we got better things to do.” You urgently vouch just as some doors loudly open nearby, immediately the three of you hide behind the stone of hieroglyphics and watch as a long haired woman leads the way, a multitude of servants in her wake as she says something about giving books to Loki from the library.

“Who’s the fancy broad?” Wonders Rocket as you raise an intrigued brow at Thor, his eyes never once leave the woman’s as he takes a steady breath, “That’s my mother.” Reveals the disheartened god, a sudden sadness lacing his very words that does not go unnoticed by you, “She dies today.”

Your breath catches in your throat at this sudden tragic news of great loss, you remember when you lost your own mother by the filthy hands of Hydra and how they helped you quickly forget about her. You didn’t have anytime to grieve or even question her sudden disappearance for that matter, “Oh, shit...that’s today.”

You share a nervous look with Rocket as Thor begins taking some deep almost panicked breaths, his emotions all rising together like a swelling storm as his face shifts to an afflicted pain, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this....” Rambles Thor with a shake of his blonde mane, eyes displaying panic, “..I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come. It’s a bad idea!” Whisper yells Thor as he anxiously shifts from one foot to the other.

“Come here.” Beacons Rocket from his perch on the rock.

“No, no, no...” Deviates Thor as he waves his hands nervously in the air like he’s trying to flick some mud off of them, “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Worries the flushed faced god. 

“Come here. Right here.” Says Rocket as he points to the rock, an increase in irritation shifting the tone of his voice while Thor breaths heavily, clearly not on board with whatever Rocket’s going to tell him.

“No, no, no, guys I can’t...I can’t do this, I’m sorry but I’m not ready, I can’t...” Thwack, Thor yelps in surprise at your intentionally weak assault on his large bicep, “Y/N what was that for?” He half-offendedly demands, brows furrowed in confusion at the flash of anger racing across your sour glare.

“You think you’re the only one who lost people?” You snap as he lowers his head like a beaten dog, “What the fuck do you think we’re doing here? I lost the only person I ever loved, Rocket lost his whole family, gone, just like that.” You affirm with a snap of your fingers.

His face grows conflicted as you suddenly lose your heated aurora, face falling into a frown as you place a comforting hand upon his shoulder, “Thor, I know it hurts that you lost your mom...believe me I get it, but she’s gone. And there are plenty of people who are only kinda gone, and you can help them.”

Thor nods apprehensively as you share a small smile with him, “So if it’s not too much to ask, can you get your shit together for the next however long this is going to take so we can save the world?” 

Rocket chuckles before gaining the both of yours attentions. “Agreed. Now all you gotta do is make schmoopy talk to Pretty Pants and when she’s not looking, suck out the Infinity Stone and help us get our family back. Aight?”

Thor nods once more, face twisting into a saddened pain a he looks down to the floor, “Okay.” Mumbles the god of thunder weakly, face reddening as his eyes get glossy. You let him take a breath as he avoids your gaze at all costs, eyes beginning to water while he tries to play it off.

Giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze, your brows furrow in puzzlement, “Are you crying?”

He shakes his head, some tears slipping despite his verbal protest, “No.” Mutters Thor weakly as his tearful gaze finally picks up to meet you, “Yes..” Squeaks out the teary eyed god while his eyes flicker from the far wall to your face once more, “...Y/N, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t, I don’t know what I’m doing...I just feel so...shit I don’t know anymore.” Admits the fearful Asgardian as he avoids your softening yet slightly annoyed gaze.

oh, Thor you sad motherfucker. I’ve been there.

Rolling your eyes you gently shake his shoulder for emphasis, “Listen to me you big lion, get your shit together! You can do this. You’re the god of thunder for fucks sake, you can do this Thor.” His face turns into a surprisingly more confident expression as he huffs with a self-assured nod. “I can do this.”

“Yeah...I can do this.” Repeats the Asgardian with a sniffle.

Smirking, you give his arm a friendly smack, “Good. Now let’s do this and get the fuck out of here.” You add before swiftly turning on your heel as you and Rocket lead the way to the door, reaching it, the talking raccoon tugs on your leg before you get a chance to open it. “What is it now?”

“Y/N, we lost him.”

“What?!” Realizing Thor has indeed slipped away and out of sight, you clench your fists in irritation, “Goddammit.” You seethe before looking down at Rocket, “Whatever, we’ll find marshmallow fluff later, let’s just get this stupid rock.”

——

Racing down the palaces golden hallways, your boots thud against the stony ground as Rocket runs on all fours right behind you, “I almost hope they catch you!” You shout in between the yelling of the royal guards as they hastily pursue the two of you down the hallway.

“We got the stone didn’t we!” Snaps Rocket as you pick up your pace. 

“We gotta make it back first you dumbfuck!”

He grumbles something unintelligible before you follow the beer tinged scent of Thor into another room, he’s speaking with his mother when they quickly turn around, “Oh, uh, hello...uh, queen something.” You mutter before Rocket practically smacks into the back of your legs. “I got the thing. Come on. We gotta move.”

Thor nods, speaking some last final heartfelt goodbyes to his mother before abruptly stopping the countdown to three just so he can summon his hammer. After a couple lengthy seconds, Mjolnir falls right into his strong grasp causing Thor to laugh and smile in excitement. “I’m still worthy! I’m still worthy.”

Rocket shares a look with you, “Oh, boy.” Mumbles the raccoon as you simply roll your eyes at the bearded Asgardian prince. A moment later the three of you are sucked into the time portal once again before landing on the glass of the time portal machine.

“Did we get them all?” You hear Steve ask in wonder as you hold your stomach from the jostling ride back.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You mutter as Rodney smiles in excitement at everyone around him and the stones in their proximity. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Taking a deep breath to steady your turning stomach, all eyes turn to Clint as he suddenly falls to his knees, face a mask of saddened grief that sparks panic in your heart. “Clint, where’s Nat?” Questions Bruce as your face falls.

Not her, not Natasha too.

Standing solemnly on the Facility’s large dock with the teams main Avengers in various places close by, you lean against one of the thin steel beams, a deep frown on your lips while your fingers anxiously play with Bucky’s dog tags around your neck.

“Do we know if she had family?” Questions Tony to no on in particular.

Steve swallows thickly, a couple free tear stains falling down the side of his cheeks, “Yeah. Us.” Mutters the blonde gloomily as you bite your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“What?” Wonders Thor almost in disbelief as Tony gives him a quizzical look, “Yeah, no, you guys are acting like she’s dead. Why are we acting like she’s dead? We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones Cap, we can bring her back. Isn’t that right?” Adds Thor, glancing between all of you before facing Tony again, “So, stop this shit. We’re the Avengers. Get it together...”

“Can’t get her back.” Interrupts Clint dismally, eyes still set on the open water beyond the compound.

Thor’s brows furrow in befuddlement, “Wh-what...”

“It can’t be undone. It can’t.” Insists Clint, voice slightly wavering in despair; Thor then starts chuckling at the absurdity of the whole shitty situation before rambling about space magic and that there must be another way. Clint on the other hand quickly gets heated about this and promptly snaps at Thor about some red floaty guy he met who revealed once the Soul Stone is taken, the one sacrificed can never come back. Ever.

Soon things calmed down again, though still a rather gloomy atmosphere still lingers like a persistent hazy fog even after they all left, leaving no one but yourself and Steve on the dock. He keeps a steady gaze on the rippling water as he lets his sadness take its course, this is indeed a heavy blow to bear.

Letting out a shaky breath, you move from the leaning against the beam to instead find a spot next to him on the wooden bench. Dog tags still clutched in your fist as you steal a glance at the tearful man. You’ve admittedly never seen him so upset, well, you both may have shared a good cry when Bucky was whipped from existence five years ago. That was the first time you ever truly bonded with anyone from the team, the first time Steve and Natasha showed you their vulnerability. 

And for that, you’ve formed a stronger bond with them that you’d never thought possible. They welcomed you into the compound like an old friend, always treated you with respect and gave you room when you needed it. And even when you didn’t want to be around anyone, they still forced you into playing cards with them anyways, among other dumb games. Which annoyingly so, is what your sad little self needed back then.

 But without Natasha, without her beaming heart and fierce attitude to keep fighting through the unknown and murky waters, you’re not even sure if this would all still be conceivable. Or if you’d even still be here with all of them for that matter, you might have gone on an angry warpath just as Clint did when everyone he ever loved was snatched from him forever. 

So why, after all this time and pain, is she the one who had to go? It’s not fare. And your heart feels broken all over again; sniffling, you swallow thickly before turning your head a little in Steve’s direction, “I didn’t know her for as long as you guys did.....but she was, really the best of us..” You laugh dismally.

 Voice shaky as you hold Bucky’s tags close to your chest, “..If not better. She was the first Avenger I ever met you know, the only piece of my past that didn’t try to murder me on sight, actually. I liked her. She was who I needed to get me through my grief, among other things huh...and uh...I will miss her.....a lot.”

Nothing is heard except for the low rustling of the nearby trees as a soft wind blows into your faces, Steve clasps his hands together, turning to you, “Funnily enough, it took me some time to completely trust her, but now....there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.” Mutters Steve with the flash of a genuine smile as he thinks fondly on Natasha, who you wish more then anything could still be here to celebrate the hard work of finding those goddamn stones.

It’s not fucking fare.

Swallowing thickly, you nod in agreement as more hot tears trail down your somber face, “The world will owe her their lives and never even know it.....but I will, we all will. Her memory will live on if I can help it, we owe her that much.”

Steve slowly nods, thumbs fiddling together anxiously as he mutters a raspy, “Yeah.”

You rest a comforting hand atop his broad shoulder as he shares a mutually dismal look with you, “We’ve already lost so much already and she fought for this like no once else did, we will avenge her Steve. I don’t doubt she knows it.”

-

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[thenightling]

The Dreaming: waking Hours issue 11 review

Okay, there’s a  lot to unpack here.   First the good.

Daniel was actually portrayed as competent and compassionate. Hurray! 

Too bad those sparks of intelligence from Daniel don’t seem to last very long when he’s not being written by Neil.  

 Also I was right that Heather is trans and that was not treated as a major plot point.   More on that later.

Though I have to wonder, with all her power, why she transitioned medically instead of magically.  I imagine if she used magick to transition she wouldn't need permanent hormone medication.  I know it helps to represent the real trans condition but sometimes you want a little convenient magical escapism of making it easier. 

Now for the picking apart / bad stuff.   

Though G. Willow Wilson is well-versed in faery lore enough to know the rules about true names and concepts like The Unseelie I am afraid she mishandles them a bit.   For example she treats the Unseelie like this one specific faceless type of fae instead of an entire fae court of dark fae that usually entails goblins, trolls, drow, imps, etc.  

She also doesn’t seem to know that in most depictions of Oberon and Titania they were nonchalant and very familiar with each other’s infidelities.   Oberon should not have been surprised (especially this far into things) that Titania slept with Morpheus.  

Titania all but bluntly spelt it out at The Wake.  I am fairly certain Oberon was there.  Where was he when she spoke?  Drinking in the back?

In some faery lore Nuala was Oberon’s lover.  I had figured that was the reason Titania saw to it she was given as a gift to Morpheus.  It was both a means to possibly get rid of her or if Morpheus didn’t accept the gift (she must have known his anti-slavery stance) it would have given a justifiable excuse for the Fae to go to war with The Dreaming and potentially lay claim to the key to Hell in Season of Mists.   

Even Disney’s Gargoyles acknowledged this aspect of their character dynamic. When Oberon learned that Titania had a half-human child in the episode The Gathering Part 1 of Disney’s Gargoyles his response was (while grinning and chuckling) “Mother?!  Titania, what HAVE you been up to?”  

In the Shakespeare play, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, it was pretty clear that Oberon wanted Titania to sleep with Bottom while he had an ass’s head (blatant metaphor) as a means to humiliate her. 

Moving on.

Yes, I was right that Heather is trans.  I am very glad it was not a major plot point before now.  However, the way her “True name” was handled wasn’t as good as I had hoped.  I had hoped that the fact that she chose the name Heather After that this has become her true name.  But the implication here is her deadname could have been used as her true name.  That bothers me.

I always figured true names (the name that can be used to summon and bind a magick user or supernatural creature) didn’t necessarily have to be the name you had at birth.  For example Vlad III of Wallachia is more well known as Drakulya (Dracula), the name he chose for himself as a patronymic homage to his father and so got used as his own house name.

In the 1985 Fright Night the character of Peter Vincent at first said “That isn���t even my real name.” But after he undergoes considerable character growth and puts protecting others before his own fear he starts saying “I AM Peter Vincent, the great vampire killer!”  The persona became his true name. 

True names are NOT necessarily the name you had at birth.  This is part of why I feel the previous aspect of Dream may have Morpheus as as close to a true name as he’s got.  That’s why he’s credited as Lord Morpheus instead of Dream in The Sandman audio drama and calling out to him by the name Morpheus is how he came to rescue Rose from Funland in The Sandman: The Doll’s House.

 So anyway, I’m conflicted about this scene in The Dreaming: Waking Hours.  I’m glad the deadname didn’t work as the true name but I would have felt better of Heather had become her true name.  That would have, in my opinion, been more satisfying than “There’s no such thing as a true name.”

Something else that bugged me... All the ham-handed anti-monarchy commentary.  In real life monarchies are not great buuut we’re talking about the faerie court here. They’re not human.  Can you even imagine what the goblins would vote for if they had a democracy?   “Okay, that’s 97% in favor of abducting every infant in Manhattan.  And 3% wrote in ‘Chilli dogs.’  I didn’t know they could spell...”

It’s become a little embarrassing to me how every fantasy written by Americans has become anti-monarchy. Disney’s Descendants, Once Upon a time’s finale (they voted...), Game of Thrones’ ending, because having any sort of vote in a world that never had any before would totally work out well at that point in their culture....  Even on Tumblr I came across someone who thought they could “fix” the “Dumpster fire” that is Nightmare before Christmas by having the mayor strip Jack Skellington of his Pumpkin King title as punishment for what he did to Christmas since “You can’t learn your lesson if you do wrong without punishment.”    Frankly, I’m tired of the anti-monarchy stuff where it doesn’t actually work.  

And the deliberately weak argument written for Titania of “But I’m Beautiful and Ancient!”   Also what’s with the weird almost-fetishism that she’s still wearing those manacle cuffs? Why didn’t Oberon or even Nuala take those off of her yet since they’re working together?  

This is interesting because right here in the final page Heather quotes the very spell that invoked Morpheus.  I have been mentally conditioned that every time I see black talk bubbles with white text in a Sandman universe comic my first thought is “Morpheus?” even though we have already seen it used for other characters in things like the Dan Watters run of Lucifer.

But the combination of quoting the invocation spell that trapped Morpheus, the talk bubble, and the golden thread (that resembles Morpheus’ life thread) has me intrigued and I don’t want to get my hopes up at the possibilities. 

And still, for all my nitpicking, this IS the best version of The Dreaming to date. 

I love Heather.  I think she’s very well written.  She’s the best original character of any Sandman spin-off.  I just think the anti-monarchy ranting is very misplaced in the realm of Faerie.   Think of what their parliament would consist of.   It’s like the minion of Jadis, The White Witch from Chronicles of Narnia, combined with the goblin muppets from Labyrinth, and the fae from Lost Girl combined.  

[emmys-grimoire]

Cosmology blurb

Mulling over ideas for a fanfic series set in the Celestial Realm and realizing I may need to make some educated guesses about how things work. I figure I’d share my observations. Spoilers ahead.

I’m thinking the realms aren’t sandwiched/stratified on top of each other but are arranged more like this...

... if Lilith didn’t have to fall through the human realm to get to the Devildom and if the heavenly gates are accessible from the Devildom (implied when MC is transported there from the Devildom). There are obviously Celestial-Human and Devildom-Human access points in the story, too.

Traditionally, Heaven is upstairs and Hell is downstairs. But, while clearly inspired by these places, the Devildom is not actually Hell and the Celestial Realm is not actually Heaven. I mean, they’re not even named that.

They each have their own seperate skies with different constellations/celestial bodies (Devildom doesn’t have a sun and the other two realms do, and they have Belphie’s/Beel’s stars). Clearly the act of falling from the Celestial Realm to the Devildom is at least a metaphorical thing, but it’s implied to be literal, too.

I don’t think it matters a whole heckuvalot, but it’s interesting to think about.

Angel versus Devil society

Looking at what small details we have, the way these two realms have evolved and currently function is also very interesting.

The Devildom is a monarchy while the Celestial Realm may be an autocracy with a caste system (I think the Devildom probably does, too, just by the nature of feudalism but it may not be officially acknowledged). Previous Demon Kings have lived and died (there’s a tomb and a line of succession) while the Celestial Realm presumably remained ruled by the same entity throughout time. 

That’s pretty interesting, too. Demon Kings are not immortal. Diavolo, however, is likely stronger than Lucifer -- it makes sense that he has to be if he’s actually meant to replace his father.

The Celestial Realm’s caste system has Luke at the lowest rank, some kind of middle or multiple ranks, and Michael at the top rank. Lucifer used to occupy the same rank alongside him.

Christian angelology has multiple very detailed and convoluted hierarchies regarding angels, and for that reason it's probably much more simplified in the game. It already deviates from the typical choir arrangement by having archangels be the top rank when they're normally near the bottom, and giving them the six wings of the seraphim (the top choir).

We're not given much insight as to whether or not angels are born into these ranks or if they ascend them through good works and valor in battle or something. Lucifer being so utterly flawless seems to suggest he was born with it, but Luke complaining about being in the lowest rank suggests that there may be some way for him to change that arrangement and it may simply be a consequence of his (lack of) age and experience. Simeon also mentioning Michael may be of higher rank but he's still "a normal angel" may also allude to that. It could be a variation, where everyone starts at the same level but Lucifer and Michael were specifically given a greater share of angelic power so they were meant to get to the top and that inevitably happened. Or maybe angels gain xp and levels in fights with the demons and they managed to become head and shoulders above the rest by being better gamers.

Also, the legion of angels. 

A legion is a military or semimilitary unit. That is an interesting term to call what may also double as your governing body outside of daddy. The game mentions Michael was in charge of Mammon’s “training” before he was handed over to Lucifer, and well...

Michael is usually depicted and referred to as a protector and the leader of the army of God against the forces of evil, and it seems he reprises that role in this universe. Lucifer once did, too.

A fundamental part of “angel training” may revolve around warfare and training for it. We know the angels and demons have had a long, bloody history, but fighting doesn’t seem to be a part of RAD’s curriculum. The Celestial Realm may have changed it’s course now that they’ve entered a period of relative peace, but I’m not entirely sure.

So far the only in-game lore detail we have related to the actual fighting is the colosseum being destroyed in a battle before the creation of RAD, but it’s proof that the angels have invaded the Devildom at some point. It might have went vice-versa, too, and we simply haven’t observed it because we haven’t been in the Celestial Realm for more than two minutes. 

In spite of all this, it doesn’t seem like angel society is wholly bad. It’s likely rigid and hierarchical, but it is also strangely communal. The brothers have all fostered close bonds with each other within the Celestial Realm -- not the Devildom -- and the angels in the story seem to maintain their positive opinion of Lucifer and his brothers in spite of him sparking a civil war and them now being demons. How the angels treat each other is also noteworthy: Simeon and Luke clearly love each other and have a healthy relationship, by all accounts Michael wholeheartedly supports Luke and gives him positive feedback, and in spite of Luke’s obvious (though changing) prejudice towards all things demon they’re comparatively even-keeled. They generally operate on the assumption that they should help each other and others and that’s a good thing.

They also seem to be onboard with the intent behind exchange program. Luke isn’t sent there to be a spy like Simeon probably was, because he’s pretty terrible at subterfuge. 

A tacit admission that Luke’s perspective is one commonly held by the denizens of the Celestial Realm. Simeon points out that it’s not entirely bad, and I’m inclined to agree.

And also an acknowledgement that the thinking is flawed and they’re willing to make an effort to expand their horizons (considered a good thing). So something has changed, and it’s probably connected to... well... Lucifer and his brothers falling. Or the Celestial Realm just isn’t a monolith and there’s competing viewpoints even with how their society is structured. It’d be interesting to hear what the brothers thought about demons before they became demons themselves, and how they adjusted to that transformation (we get insight on how Lucifer viewed them via Glory Days, but that’s it.)

The Devildom, in contrast, uh... still has problems in this area outside of Diavolo.

This is disregarding all the soul devouring, torture, and casual murder that goes on between demons -- including the brothers. Diavolo is well regarded, but he’s also been unofficially in charge for quite awhile and it doesn’t appear he thinks this is a problem, even though he himself doesn’t treat his subjects poorly (as far as I know, anyway).

Which brings me to this...

There’s a reason he doesn’t really have any close bonds beyond Barbatos and Lucifer, in spite of being universally beloved. And I’m not sure how well he knows Barbatos, honestly. He’s isolated, and it’s not entirely related to his position; Lucifer has been in a high status position in both realms and doesn’t have this problem and never really did in spite of being prickly and anal-retentive af. There’s been quite a bit of commentary in these lessons about how he’s changed and may be reverting back to his angelic tendencies, with Barbatos implying that while it may be good for him and his family, it may not be what’s best for the Devildom... and I think that’s a mindset carried over from his tenure serving under Diavolo’s dad and helping enforce the current state of the Devildom for a specific purpose. MC somehow turning Lucifer and his brothers back into good people (or better people, at least), and Diavolo being envious of their closeness, may interfere with that: the demons around them may start getting ideas, and Diavolo may make more changes.

So not all is well in the Devildom, either, and Diavolo may not be cognizant of how or why. While the Celestial Realm may be a militant society with authoritarian impulses and bigotry, the Devildom sounds like a corrupt monarchy with a dog-eat-dog world underneath that makes trust and love liabilities to survival and keeps the peasants where they are forever. It’s simply another brand of dysfunction.

Hoomans and MC

The Human Realm is probably meant to be some kind of middleground in the dark/bad - light/good spectrum, with its inhabitants having no impulses skewed one way or the other and thus possessing the ability to slide back and forth. 

Demons interact with the human world via being summoned, pacts, or simply travelling there. Manipulating them and preying on them involves magical speechcraft. The angels aren’t allowed to reveal their angel forms to humans, travel there without permission (though it seems the punishment for this wasn’t enough to deter Belphie/Beel/Lilith/Mammon), or magically extend their lifespans -- it seems they prefer to meddle in their affairs indirectly, and revolves around shepherding them towards certain (presumably good) decisions. Ironically enough, Michael himself seems to violate these tenets with Solomon, who is evidently aware of who gave him the demon-controlling ring and was invited to chill with him in the Celestial Realm. It’s do as I say but not as I do, apparently.  

The game seems to imply that it’s possible that MC inherited Lilith’s angelic tendencies/abilities/memories/whatever after the big reveal, which makes me think she may not have turned into a demon before she was reborn. There’s no reason to think she would have retained her angelic abilities as a demon when her brothers haven’t -- she presumably would have lost them before being reborn, if she was turned into a demon first. Diavolo might have just skipped that step altogether for simplicity’s sake.

But she did technically fall, so ???? Maybe it’s just literally falling from the sky.

tl;dr version: they’re all fucked up and the exchange program is a good way for them to try to get their shit together. And I like how it’s set up.

[holymoonlighted]

Allant, Amygdalae and You

Spoilers for Bloodborne and Demon’s Souls below:

In Bloodborne’s Alpha test, the Amygdalae were there, but not visible to the player. When re-enabled these familiar Gods have something interesting about them that was removed in the current game. Their eyes. (Images are from here.)

Their eyes are extremely familiar to people who payed attention to Demon’s Souls True King Allant. The eyes are essentially the same, not entirely the same design but, the idea is there.

For those who don’t know, Bloodborne was Demon’s Souls II at one point in development, there are files quite literally classed as “DSII” or “Demon’s Souls II” not Dark Souls II, the team making Bloodborne had nothing to do with DSII, I’m pretty sure. Anyways, the connection is incredibly obvious once you know that. This does clear up one thing, Great Ones are most likely Demons. Or were Demons. This Allant has become a Demon through worshipping the Old One, who is also a Demon. Nevertheless, the Amygdala and Allant share some sort of connection. Allant in this form also look like an early form of the Amygdalae, but not quite. Great Ones in Bloodborne’s story have always been God-like beings, Miyazaki has stated one of the first things written for Bloodborne is that Great Ones cannot have children, meaning Great Ones in some capacity have always been relevant. To get to the point, Amygdala have always most likely been intended with this relation to Demonhood and this connection to Allant. In Demon’s Souls, human-turned Demons have been in the story the whole time, in fact, some of the major bosses are those, see: Tower Knight, Phalanx and Flamelurker. They are all Demons. And now, when in Bloodborne when you take into account that these are also Demons and that most likely have also inhabited the planet, one can wonder if the mist brought them or that they have been placed there like the Old One was. In fact the old names for Amygdala are “False God” and “God’s Fallen Angel” and in the alpha, an unused track associated with Amygdala are called “False God”. Additionally, Amygdala was also the final boss of Bloodborne at one point. If you notice, in the Grand Cathedral on the way to Amelia there are statues lining both sides that depict Amygdalae, no doubt about it.

They have the face and the tentacles. It’s plain and simple; Anyways, it is obvious Amygdalae are still worshipped as Gods. In Bloodborne’s world you can hear characters say “Gods” instead of a singular God. Meaning that Great Ones, in Yharnam, at least, are worshipped in a large capacity. With this, and the assumption that they were Demon’s, it can be said that history is just repeating itself. For those who don’t know, the God referenced in Demon’s Souls is the Old One. It is worshipped, presumably given by Allant the Old One is known and so is its power but only by people who really want to delve into it. Though now, it seems that people fully accept these Demons who live in their city and worship them as Gods, as Boletaria once did. Amygdalae are False Gods under blasphemous worship, the reason there are so many is unknown. Maybe it was explained in an earlier iteration, alas, it is lost or the reason why is gone. So it seems that in Bloodborne the theme of cycles carries true and that was the scene they were trying to push out.

This place here is an interesting point of conjecture, however. At some point in Bloodborne, the plot was that you, as in the hunter, have an incurable disease. This was one of the major plot points too, it wasn’t a side thing. The Doll mentioned it, multiple NPC’s including unused ones did. It was just the entire plot, plus other things. Anyways, this place at one point is called Shrine of the Diseased and Amygdala still occupied this place. The diseased are the name of well, the ones with the disease. Along with some dialogue, it seems that the diseased are almost worshipped in some capacity. And why an Amygdala is here is unknown, this is still DeSII territory so anything goes in terms of relations. The diseased seem to be able to collect madness, early dialogue from the Doll even says as much. This madness, like Blood Echoes are able to be transformed into strength. Madness is not insight, however. Meaning that dead enemies and bosses dropped Madness, or something of that capacity. The Kanji used is “狂気” which is the literal state of Insanity, which suggests that it is the madness that is building inside of someone’s mind. The doll also says: 

“ あなたもそうなのでしょう？ だから、死してなお悪夢で目覚める まるでそれこそが、悪夢であったかのように 狂気とは、つまりそういうものですから “

Roughly translated(and localized) into:

“You awoke the same as you died, yes? This is why you awake again past death, as if it were a nightmare. This is what madness is, after all.”

This disease seems to be the reason why the Hunter, or in this case, The Diseased, awakens again. It is a disease of madness that prevents death. Now, back to the point. It seems in the Nightmare Frontier, this shrine was used by someone or something to worship the diseased. Amygdala could very well be the keeper of the shrine. Meaning, they are protective demons. Or used as some kind of protecting nature and keep holy things protected from danger. In Yharnam, it is probable they are just surveying and making sure things stay intact. Yharnam is a city like Boletaria, full of religion. With this, an argument can be made that Demons do not need the fog to be summoned and that the Dream and Nightmare realms are their homes and the fog just allows them to come onto the Earth. For Amygdala, it’s hard to say if it was a worshipped then came into existence, but it seems odd that humanity would create this cosmic visage in the first place. For Demon’s Souls, Gods like the Storm King are a viable depiction of a god. Amygdala looks like something that has always been there. Though, in cut enemies of Bloodborne, Demons that resemble something of a traditional Demon.

These things prove somewhat that the fog creates Demons based off of the beliefs of the people around them. At least, that is the only explanation I can come up with. It looks exactly like a Christian Demon someone would depict, fire, brimstone with “terrifying” wings.

The early common depictions of Satan, which matches somewhat with the Demonic depiction of the “Creeper” as it is called. To make a long story short, the Fog still obviously creates Demons out of the beliefs of the people. Amygdala does not seem to be one of those, however. There if no proof that they aren’t, but it seems unlikely.

Going back to my first point, there is no clear way to link Amygdalae to Allant directly. However, given the nature of the Amygdalae in cut content it seems Allant is a madman who through this has become a Demon visually similar to other Demons. This also harkens back to the concept of evolution and becoming a Great One. So in this sense, the point was to become a Demon like them, to become a demon with great power, possibly the goal was to become exactly like the Old One which isn’t surprising. Byrgenwerth was always apart of the story so the evolution part was definitely most likely a thing for a while. Anyhow, Allant in the original plot of Demon’s Souls definitely was not trying to become an Amygdala but in Bloodborne, the Amygdala definitely are something people like they want to become it, most likely. Amygdala still has remnants of its’ worshippers with Patches. He wants to sacrifice you to Amygdala, but can’t. Amygdala definitely has a cult even still which was probably more prominent in earlier iterations. 

Speaking of cults, some cut characters suggest something about this. Some figure of “Justice” and influence in the Healing Church: - Louvan - Aragon - Idona These characters are never actually used, they seem to all be a cut minister character. However, they all seem to be related to “Justice”, someone in the Healing Church who decides the worthiness, or something like that. So, this person is in high power. Meaning they are influential, this leads to the fact these people have the influence they most likely tell the Yharnamites to worship these Demons. They most likely keep in touch with the Choir so they know some pretty important knowledge. So, yes, these characters are pretty comparable to religious world leaders who basically make people worship their God. Except, it’s more complex. The Amygdalae probably do not care or possibly do not even know what is going on around them and are just surveying human behavior. So in the end, it’s a ruthless effort to worship something that doesn’t even care about your existence, which is a nice detail story-wise. 

To finish this off, there isn’t a strong connection between Allant and the Amygdalae, nevertheless, the Amygdalae have always had an intriguing role. I might edit this post later for some clarity and more information but for now, have my first cut content post, enjoy! Any critique, feedback and or things that can be added upon, please let me know! I’d love to hear.

[qhostqizmo]

A Wish

[insert my ugly, blubbering crying as you read this]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A storm rumbled menacingly outside. Lightning flashed, thunder echoed off hills and valleys, and the dark stormclouds rolled and frothed as the sky boiled in a cauldron of black. Rainwater surged and swelled rivers. Tt poured from the heavens like tears, pounding at the door just behind the traveling adventures in a mute threat.

Unlike the omen of disaster waiting just outside, Essätha shivered beneath her damp attire, mouth agape at the interior. From the exterior, the basilica they now resided in had appeared forgotten. The stonework masonry had lost its luster; with dull gray pillars and hauntingly aged architecture towering high above. The only illusion of value the chapel still held appeared to have been its windows. Stained glass images still retaining jaw-dropping depictions of golden suns, strange yet beautiful falcons, and shimmering sunflowers.

Inside however, it was like stepping into a different realm. Red topaz encrusted much of the decorations, and elaborate textiles decorated the halls. Unlike the weather outside, the windows of the church showed shafts of sunlight falling down radiantly. Essie dared to step out of the shadows of the doorway into one of these columns of light, astonished that it felt exactly like the warmth of sunshine on her skin.

“I don’t think we’re in Etheron anymore,” the sorceress breathed. She took another step, and as she did the white-light seemed to blind her, growing in intensity. It did not hurt, but her hand flew up to cover her eyes as her clothes became unnaturally warm; as if they had been flapping out on a clothesline all day.

The brightness dimmed and she removed her hand, marveling at suddenly dry clothes. She looked around, taking in the astonishing size of the building itself. There were tapestry hung to the walls; a few showing creatures of various kinds, some she knew and some she didn’t. Battle scenes were depicted in horrifying detail, with rubies tied into fringe to appear like dripping blood. As empty and lifeless as the building had appeared outside; without communion in decades, there were fresh plants filled with thriving lilies and daisies, perfuming the air like someone had just come in earlier.

“This place is stunning.”

She looked back, seeing Sulhadur’s jaw hanging openly unhinged. He swept his gaze from left to right, trying to absorb as much of the artifacts as he could. His claw reached out, not quite touching one of the antique-looking vases with meticulously detailed designs hand-painted on to it.

“Don’t touch anything,” Penimra warned, crossing his arms. He met the eyes of his fellow adventurers uneasily. “What? It just. It feels like a trap. Like everything could be cursed.”

“This coming from the man who is actually cursed,” Rava stated, earning a scowl from the warlock. She fluffed a hand through her puffy tight curls, gazing towards the jeweler close by. “You’re usually the one who senses all the weird things, what do you think?”

Essie turned back to examining the hanging wall art, listening to the jingle of chains and personal ornaments on the pink Tiefling. She squinted up at one of the more innocent of the massive images, this one displaying a canine of some sort, almost as white as snow. It was weaving, almost to the point of appearing to be caught in a playful frolic game of chase with a cat; creamy off-white in color, with golden eyes. The two appeared to be looking at each other, but the longer she stared, it almost appeared as though their eyes were moving around the room to stare at them.

But that didn’t make any sense. This wasn’t a painting where the eye-holes could be cut out, and it was hung much too high and separated from the wall behind it to be able to see anyone peering too.

“I’m not getting anything funky from this place,” Adela’s voice trailed, reverberating off the large chamber. “It’s unusual for sure, but nothing that screams ‘danger’.”

“Nhis is a holy place,” Pri’cha agreed, the light absorbing in their carapace. “We’re in no danger here.”

Essie was glad for the little cleric’s confidence, because it was unnatural how the eyes of some of the portraits moved to train on them. She kept the knowledge to herself though, hoping it was a mixture of her imagination and mirage of perspective that made it seem like they were keeping their gaze on you.

The sorceress glanced to her side, hearing the clack of hooves and rattle of trinkets. Face tilted their head her way in acknowledgment, adjusting a cloak to reveal the hand crossbow at their side. “Maybe let the muscle go first,” he teased.

She snorted laughter and allowed her shoulders to relax. It reignited memories of the first few days of knowing them, making her feel a bit more at ease. “Thank you for your chivalry, but I’ve got this.”

They nodded, moving closer to her. “Ya notice that these things seem to be looking at us funny, or is it just me?”

Her eyes rounded. She gave a short nod in response, too nervous to alert the others.

Although their mask hid some reactions, the tightening focus on their heterochromia eyes sharpened. Brow knit, the blue-hued Tiefling nodded and began to saunter to the other side of the room, inspecting what appeared to be some sort of basin.

Essätha shrugged it off, looking ahead into the larger area shaped like a dome. At the far side of it was the biggest of the tapestry yet, with the image of a man’s face. They had a depiction of a halo surrounding their head, and a long silvery-white mane of hair falling over their shoulders. Their eyes almost matched the white-gold of their halo, standing out against a stoic expression. Everything about the man’s posture screamed of regal strength. The details were extraordinary; from the stray strands of hair falling over their forehead to the thread colors used to add highlights over the amber tones against their cheekbones and collarbone.

Honesty, it was a very attractive depiction of someone. They looked torn between being tired; of some age that had grown to see a great deal, and powerful. The sorceress dropped her gaze lower, spotting the almost unnoticeable door hidden in the darkness behind the huge image. Small, relatively swallowed up by the shadow cast by the tapestry, it was unimpressive and made of a dark wood that disappeared easily in the darkness outside the window’s light.

She advanced forward, interest peaked.

Approaching the archway, the door made a most peculiar noise; almost as though it was unlocking itself. Mostly Essie was aware of was the sound of her shoes echoing against the tiled floors and her breathing, which seemed much too loud for the silence of his place.

Her hand took the handle, and pressed on the lever to unlatch it. The door swung open with ease; quiet, and almost invitingly light for such appeared to be sturdy wood.

There wasn’t even the distant sound of the storm raging outside in this room. It was bright but simple; lacking all the extravagant and elegant novelties of the other space. The appearance of sunlight in this area came from straight ahead, a single circular window up high which washed through the room. A few pillars set on either side of a long carpet lead up to three stairs, which stopped into a stage. The platform had a single, empty display stand.

Gasping, Essie pulled her bag of holding around to rummage around. Her hand fumbled, finally pulling out a rather simple golden staff from her contents. It had seen better days; the gold tarnished and discolored. At the very top, an image of the sun that looked as though it matched the one set in the window’s design.

She hurried forward, clutching the item to her chest. The sound of the door shutting behind her caused pause as her foot hit the first step of the dais.

“There you are, Essie. Blast this door-”

Her heartbeat picked up, looking behind her.

She watched as Amon tried feebly to yank the door open again, to no success. His hair looked frazzled, like someone had been ruffling a hand through it the shades black.. A smile touched her face as she lowered the staff, shaking her head.

“Sorry, I should have waited for the rest of you to follow,” she admitted. “Do you need help with that door?”

The nobleman released the doorknob and carded a hand through his hair. Ah, that explained the mused look. “No,” he uttered defensively, looking back up at her. “Where’s Face, anyway? I saw them come in here, and went to follow.”

Her brow knit. “Face? I didn’t hear them come in. You’re the first person I’ve seen, or heard; and trust me, Face isn’t that quiet.”

A tense silence lingered in the air. Something was certainly off-putting here. The pictures hadn’t made sense, and now a Tiefling was supposed to have entered this room, to be no where to be found. If the sorceress wasn’t so sure, even from this distance, that the dark eyes upon here were not Amon’s, she may have questioned the reality of the situation. But she knew those eyes, and the worry-creases on his forehead, and the mannerisms of his gestures as he nervously licked his lips.

She swallowed, turning back towards the lonely display. It felt incomplete. Her sweaty hands clutched and relaxed against the metal in her hand. “Maybe you were seeing things, or maybe there was another door?”

“There was no other door, Essie.”

Essätha grimaced, ignoring the compelling softness of his tone, and the worry. She advanced the final few steps, holding the rod out horizontally towards the display.

“Essie?” Amon uttered, shocked. “Essie, what are you doing? Don’t; you don’t know what that will do-”

The staff fit perfectly into the length of the stand, balanced on either side. She tilted her head, finding the whole thing curious. They’d found the staff had been stolen when they’d recovered it from a balor and they’re weaker minions. It had emitted a strong aura of magic, and a sense of ‘good’, according to Pri’cha. It wasn’t something that would ever belong with satanic being such as that. They’d had no way of knowing where it belonged, but this…

Abruptly, a tremor rocked through the room, and dust cascaded from the ceiling. Essie stepped back, taking the stairs down to base level uneasily as Amon darted forward.

“What was tha-”

A flash of illuminating light emerged from the window, dazzling the space in sunshine. The Yuan-Ti woman yelped, turning to hide her face into the nobleman’s as he brought his around them.

“I see you have returned my scepter,” a voice echoed, gravelly and firm.

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, Essätha stared up into Amon’s face. He looked just as bewildered as she did.

“Your scepter?”

There was no reply. She whirled around, facing the staff now.

It resided in the hand of a man. The likeness of his face was the same as the one in the tapestry just outside the room; down to the holy glow that radiated around their head like a wreath on a door. They flicked their robes out, extending a hand and placing the other with their rod against their chest. His gown was a deep royal purple, with golden trim along its edges, appearing to be spun as though from lustrous gold.

The scepter in his hand appeared as though it had been thrown backwards in time. It shone as though it had just been forged; bright and glistening like a newborn sun.

“Thank you for returning my weapon,” the man stated a bit more warmly. “The scepter of the eternal sun is a very powerful weapon; I had been trying to track down its whereabouts for decades now.”

“We… Found it on a fiend, and his followers,” Essie murmured softly. She was aware of her ogling stare, but couldn’t seem to break it. Admittedly, the man was not as enchanting in person, but the presence they gave off was intimidating as much as it was captivating.

Amon took hold of her hand, squeezing her fingers. She couldn’t take her eyes off the stranger to know if he was trying to get her attention, or comfort her, or convince her to go, but she squeezed his hand back. His touch grounded her a bit; reminding her that this was really happening.

“That is… disturbing news,” the strange divine man remarked, turning his staff over in his hands as he examined it “It is safe though, and untainted. Thank you.”

“You’re… welcome?”

The figure’s eyes glowed; a white-gold light that felt as though it seared through her very soul. Essie shuddered, wondering if they were some sort of Aasimar. They had appeared from seeming nothing and no where though; perhaps there was a hidden teleportation circle, or they had the ability to move through light like some could shadows?

The man smiled at her, almost as though he could read the clueless expression on her face. “You remind me of someone,” they remarked, studying her with an intense gaze. “I think it is in the shape of your face and the texture of your hair alone, though. That is where the similarities stop. You feel… different.”

The hand in hers tightened almost painfully. Essie flinched.

“We’re glad to have helped return your scepter, sir. Unfortunately, we should see to our allies-”

“Your friends are fine,” the man stated confidently, his smile falling to a more neutral expression. “Forgive me for the confusion, I had meant to speak with you all separately. It seemed this one was able to escape me, somehow.”

Out of the corner of her eye, the sorceress watched her nobleman raise his chin. His face was defiant, and he moved closer to her side. She hadn’t realized she’d been clenching her teeth tightly together, nervous, until his proximity allowed her to exhale, and slacken.

The scepter struck the ground, causing Essätha to jolt as a sweeping gust of magic swirled through the room. “I go by many names, but you may call me Amaunator; God of Law and Time, Keeper of the Eternal Sun, Light of the Law, and Bearer of the Sun.” He grimaced. “I was once a powerful deity, but have lost some of my congregation to that of Pelor, the new Ruler of the Sun. I’m sure you’ve heard of them.” Their gaze dragged towards her nobleman blankly.

“I have not been given the pleasure to know either of you, however.”

Lowering his gaze, her nobleman was the first to speak through gritted teeth: “Amon, your Holiness.”

The piercing bright eyes shifted back towards her as the sorceress looked between the two gentleman. Her cheeks warmed beneath the deity’s gaze.

“Uhhh- Essätha Meduza, sir- your Holiness?- Your light-” she floundered awkwardly.

“A great pleasure to meet you, Essätha; Champion of the Light…” The golden hues of his eyes flickered; a look of concern tugging at his brow. “… It seems you are destined for a great many colors, however. I can feel the Shadowplane in your blood, and the touch of a forgotten Goddess lingering in your step. She watches over you.”

Amaunator’s eyes fell on Amon, and his brow raised. “And you as well, Amon. She watches you, too. The pair of you must be tangled in a unique destiny for a Goddess; even one who has sadly lost so much power, to be looking after you.”

“You know of Jubaeta?” Essätha gasped eagerly, taking a step forward.

The God laughed, and flickers of light danced around him. “Not well, I am afraid. Most Gods and Goddess are at least aware of each other. What a pity Her Radiance has laid a claim upon you, I would be all too eager to accept such a beautiful, witty pupil into my clergy.”

Clearing his throat, the Amaunator carried himself down the stairs. As he moved, the light from the window struck beams upon him, following his angle and movements. It was almost as though he was the sun itself, shining the light.

“I should owe you my thanks; but I will start with madam Meduza,” they stated, catching her eye with a smile. “For being the one to return my scepter to its rightful place at my alter, I offer you a gift only a true God can bestow. You may be aware of a spell known as the Wish spell, and perhaps are aware of its limitations. I offer you a single Wish, miss Meduza. Just, one.”

“I can alter time. I can change the world and the reality of your fragile mortal lives. I can raise the dead, or see that the lives of your enemies end. But even with my magic, there can be consequences. For example: if you wished for a God to disappear, then they would perhaps only be wiped from your memory, and you may be unable to see or hear their holy texts, their symbols, or the word of their followers. If you wished for the love of another, know that it is likely you will only earn their obsession; giving them half a mind, and destroying your freedom in the process.”

“The choice is yours, miss Meduza,” the Bearer of the Sun stated, their gaze glittering as they stopped a few feet from her. “What is your Wish going to be?”

Essätha gaped at the deity, her mouth hanging wide open.

Did he say… Wish?

As in, practically anything?

Her gaze raked down to the floor, the possibilities buzzing in her brain. She could have her family back. Her mom always there for her; spirited and quirky and fun and just the way she remembered. Just as warm, and understanding, and patient as she remembered. The thought made her shiver, remembering vague memories of falling asleep in her mother’s embrace, whispering in her ear, fingers combing through her wild untamed mess of hair even as a child.

She could remove the Raven Lord from power. That one was trickier; she’d need to think of how to play with her words. How could you abolish an entire cult, and destroy a council with a single Wish? Still, it was a tempting idea. With no supporters, his influence would be diminished and so would his threat. He might still a force, but what one god-like figure against an army standing against them? The consequences though if she got it wrong; if instead it backfired into a catastrophe made her fearful. What if instead it was as Amauntor warned, and instead all it did was erase something vital from her instead?

And what would her mother say if she was brought back from the dead? Years had gone by, would she return old, or at the age she had died? They would be the same age, and so much had changed. What if her mom came back, but emerged back in Miamoorgyate? What if she was still ill?

Even tossing all those away, what if she simply didn’t want to be back? The afterlife was a place of rest and peace, and perhaps her mom had made her own. It was the spell of a lifetime, from a being who could probably warp it more into her favor than she could ever hope or dream to do. Her mom would probably be furious she wasted something so important on her, no matter how much she wanted to see her again.

And then there was the now: how it had changed, how she had changed. She never forgot the love and lessons of her mother, but she had learned to let it go, and move on. She still was taking the teachings on to others, and offering her own advice.

And day by day, she was learning to love and let love in, too.

Her breathing accelerated, and her eyes moved up to Amon who had been standing silently at her side; watching her expressions shift with worry.

She knew what she wanted to do.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The nobleman exhaled, finally finding the ability to breathe again as Essätha looked at him. The information dropped on them had been a bomb; and he’d hardly wanted to believe a word of it, but his gut couldn’t find anything definitive to fight the stranger with. His body shape, his clothes, his abilities; they appeared much like the God he had heard of vaguely.

But maybe part of his desire to doubt the Keeper of the Eternal Sun was the streak of jealous he felt watching the way he’d looked at Essie. The way he spoke to her. The look of admiration as he took her in, and spoke to her as though she was someone he knew.

The audacity he had to compare her to someone else, pretending as though it was a compliment.

Amon swallowed, feeling the flex of her hand against his. He was losing the ability to drag in air again, looking at her. She was surrounded by the light; colors grazing her skin like a rainbow, a nimbus slowly emerging and dancing around her head and illuminating her features. She had a halo around her hair. The power of the God held nothing to the solar flare of her eyes shining against the darkness.

She stole the oxygen straight from his lungs. Essätha Meduza, the brave most gentle-hearted soul that she was, the strength she carried, lighting up his world in ways nothing ever could. No friend or fair lady, no sunlight or candle, no treat or victory brought the serenity and stillness in him then she did. The angelic glow surrounding her now was something he saw even without the help of some divine being, or without the sun itself.

He licked his lips, holding her hand close to his chest. “Essie? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered. She looked eager, and then shaken, and then overjoyed, and then nervous. He watched her emotions play out; the haunting in her eyes, the shape of her lips changing, her eyebrows raising and lowering.

He squeezed her hand again in encouragement. In his heart he wanted to say something, but the words were buried in his chest, beneath his ribcage.

She had a decision to make. He didn’t want to influence that in any way.

His sorceress ignored the intrigued God staring at her from behind, and turned to grab his other hand. The nobleman grinned at her, perplexed by the gesture. He wanted so badly to curl the stray ringlets hanging above her eyes, diminishing her glow, but refrained.

“What do you want most in the world?” she breathed, “what do you want more than anything else?”

Amauntor made a ragged wheeze, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Amon’s smile tightened with confusion, truly baffled. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“You could have Marie back,” Essie exclaimed brightly, her face lighting up with wonder and glee. “You could wish to have your mother back during your childhood, or for Arthur to never have rewed, or for no one to have ever discovered about Fontane. You can change history; you could ask to have had the ability to open the crypt and let Fontane out, or you could make the Raven Lord change his targets so you would never have been under his radar-”

“Essätha,” he gasped painfully, “what are you doing?”

“I want to give the Wish to you,” she choked, tears springing up in her eyes. “I want you to have it.”

“Why? Why would you give up something like this? It could change your life-”

“It would change yours, too.”

Beneath his feet, it felt like the entire dimension of the world shifted. He could still see the outline of the deity looming, now walking at an angle. He watched them as though a predator; stalking, tearing them apart with his eyes. He was trying to decipher something, needling them.

The light shifted with him around the room, basking them in different shades and streaming, cascading waves of bouncing hues and glowing slanting rays and beams. It never stole away from fire burning in her eyes.

This was a rare gift. She was willing to give up having anything; her heart’s content, the world on the platter at her feet, barely without limitations no matter how mad or wild or impossible, and she was offering it to him? For what?

His lungs grasped for something; anything. Amon staggered, his ears ringing, hearing the distant muffled sound of Essätha’s voice as she grabbed at his shoulder, and pressed a hand over his chest. Checking for a heart attack, maybe? Was that a thing? He could probably be having one right now.

There wasn’t enough air in the world to recover the panic and alarm he was experiencing. She was throwing away a guaranteed success, for what? For him?

What would give her the drive to do something so selfless? How could she sacrifice having that sort of power at her hands, and offer it to him? Whatever had he done to deserve something so important, so life-altering? How could she be willing to offer him so important; so precious?

“I can’t breathe,” he whimpered, his knees beginning to buckle.

“Easy, easy- I’ve got you m’lord,” Essie soothed, guiding him to kneel on the floor. “You’re alright. I’m right here.”

Reacting purely out of instinct, he sought the light. He felt a cold abyss swallowing him from below; dragging him down. He grabbed her arm tightly, shaking as he pulled her in.

She dropped down before him, wrapping her arms around him.

Choking, Amon hide his face in her hair, breathing in gardenias and honey. His hands shook as they rested on her waist, and slid around to pull her close. She was pleasantly soft and warm; curling into his frame snuggly. He could feel the heat of her magic running along his spine; rising the temperature of his clothes and adding a layer of comfort to her touch. His pulse fluttered, and his heart jumped into his throat as his chest turned to molten fire.

He couldn’t believe she’d give him so much. She was always putting so much of her fire and effort and belief into him; into his aches, his life, his desires. She cared about his sacrifices, his successes, and his failures. She listened to him gripe, and cheered silently when he expressed his opinions and views. Now she was putting him first yet again. Whatever he asked for, whatever he needed. His past, present, and future were all lined up before him, and he could say anything he wanted.

“I’m not taking this away from you,” he mumbled, his voice husky and broken as he clung to her. “You deserve this. You should have this.”

“I want you to have it,” Essätha urged, rocking him gently from side to side. “You should take the Wish.”

Amon pried his fingers free from the back of her shirt and pulled back, looking up into the artistic wonder of her face. Tears were shimmering in the corner of her eyes as she smiled back at him. She pulled an arm from his back to wipe at her nose in a gesture shy and awkward. Gods, it shouldn’t look so adorable.

“I don’t want the spell. I don’t want it-”

“Why not?”

“It’s meant for you. Have you thought of what you could do with it? What about your mother, or what- what happened to you in Miamoorgyate, or your own entanglement with the Raven Lord? You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be the one always giving things up for other people.”

“I’m not giving up anything,” she cooed, cupping his face in her hands. The tears spilled out, following the curve of her cheek down to her chin. “I’m okay. I’m really okay. I don’t need to change anything.” Her palms caressed his cheeks, rubbing beneath his eyes as moisture began to collect beneath them. Essie hiccuped around a sob, her throat moving reflexively as she whimpered softly: “What I want more than anything is for you to be happy, and for you to live the life you always should have had. I want you to take this opportunity, and give yourself whatever your heart yearns for most. There is no one else I would rather give this to; no one else I want to see complete and living out their dreams, than you.”

This, Amon realized, was much more than a gift. This was more than a sign of humility, or compassion, or generosity. With this sort of magic, whatever he choose, it could make the entire universe different. Whatever someone said, it could make it so that they never met. She was okay with whatever he wanted, whatever the cost, as long as he believed it would benefit him; make him feel whole, make him feel okay.

This was love.

He placed his hands on either side of her face, still trembling as he brushed her tears away. Essätha smiled just for him; tender, sweet, rearranging the axis of the world and throwing the planets out of alignment. His heart went soaring, flying; all it took was a glance into her eyes and he never rose higher in his life. Sitting on his knees in a church, a literal God hovering nearby, and nothing; no one, ever looked as perfect or sacred.

“I want you,” he whispered; chest aching. “More than anything.”

Slowly, Essie’s mouth fell open. Her eyes darted from his, to his mouth. She breathed out slowly; deeply; her lips trembling.

Amon licked his lips, trying to find his voice again. Her fingers brushed along his cheekbones. His thumb stroked the corner of her mouth, mentally grabbing at words he could not reach.

She leaned in closer; barely enough to be noticed. Her lashes lowered.

He pulled her in as she tilted her head, and kissed her softly.

He never felt more. The empty, wanting feeling that had been strangling him all his life was replaced by such a fulfilling sensation, his head felt dizzy. He kissed her between gasps, along tears, despite the fact a deity was standing nearby, awkwardly clearing through throat at the scene they were making. He didn’t care if the Overlord of All Ao themself came to demand he stop, or if the Raven Lord appeared and threatened a fate beyond measure if he did not cease; nothing, nothing was going to keep him from Essätha Meduza. Come Heaven or Hell, she was what he longed for. She was everything he needed, and then some.

“The spell?” Essie mumbled, half-dazed. She kissed him back as he drew her in; a faint surprised squeak in the back of her throat. A snivel escaped her as they tore apart. He gave her an open-mouth kiss. She sighed as he pulled away, kissing her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her hairline; anywhere, everywhere. Worshiping her, pinging for her, hardly believing this was all real.

“Take it,” he half groaned, half sang. “Take it. I have everything I’ve ever been looking for here, in my hands.”

[loxxxlay]

This isn't critical, just genuinely wondering as you are someone on here that speaks respectfully about other peoples views too, but sometimes I think people put ragnarok praise under the category of "funny" and just leave it there, whereas Thor was well received in infinity war too, which was much more tragic and arguably not funny at all, then in endgame it was like they forgot that it wasn't just humour that made people like the character, but story arc and progression. Thoughts? Thanks!

Note: Not everyone is going to agree with what I’m about to say. (Obvious hahhaha right? But no.) I’m going to say some stuff, and I want everyone to be aware that these are MY PERSONAL OPINIONS and are in no way representative of how all pro-Ragnarok people feel about thor or about Ragnarok. (Or even about dark world, infinity war, or end game.) If y'all disagree and want to argue with me, then fuck you. If y'all disagree but leave me in peace, I love you. there is no in-between lmfaoo.

Hmm, yeah I definitely agree to a good extent! Ragnarok praise often does reference the humor, but I don’t see people praising it for that reason only. In fact, that’s the main rhetoric that anti-ragnarok ppl use to mock us who liked Ragnarok - that we just like it because it’s funny and that we have no appreciation for actual character depth/progression. Which, as someone who has been invested in these characters since 2012, can upset me. D:

I think what makes Ragnarok appealing to many people (or at least myself) is that it made characters more relatable. In the past, they were depicted as gods and largely lacking in depth (with the exception of Loki). this is actually my major critique of thor: the dark world. they reduced their characters into caricatures. Jane, previously awesome multi-dimensional scientist, is now too lovesick to work/do what she loves. Odin is the typical misguided, stuck-in-his-own ways, distant father. thor: gloomy trying-to-be-a-good son but sees the error of his father’s ways. Malekith: villain who wants to turn the universe into “darkness.” Suchhh cliches. :/ And cliches are hard to connect with, esp in fantasy.

In Ragnarok, the cliches were not necessarily broken, but the characters were given some depth. they were given COPING mechanisms. thor, gloomy son, starts coping with grief (his father, his hammer, etc) with either anger or exaggerated lightheartedness (which yes, led to humorous moments). Whereas before, he’d really just wandered around all sad-looking. Valkyrie, a living legend, is literally an alcoholic who rounds ppl up and sells them to buy alcohol. Bruce (who was never cliche fyi, but definitely given more depth in this movie) was given panic attacks - even Hulk processed bad feelings via anger/selfishness. And Odin, even though ppl may disagree, was given depth because he was shown to have not only a pattern of lying and casting out his children but also having a solid foot in the door of imperialism - this shows how he has made huge mistakes as a father/leader, and it puts everything in previous movies (including Asgard itself) in a new light.

those are all examples of the way Ragnarok took Powerful Gods and Superheroes and Magical Realms and brought them to regular ordinary human level: through mental illness, through poor coping mechanisms, through them making Big Mistakes. Something which, previously in the thor movies, was only really done with Loki (which is why, i’d guess, there used to be so many more loki stans than thor stans). thor and its cast were suddenly more relatable characters.

As for other part of your ask: I think both Infinity War and End Game were both terrible movies. But both of them did do a lot of things of value in terms of thor’s character. 

Infinity War, in terms of thor’s character arc only, was written well and acted by Chris Hemsworth well. thor retained what he had in Ragnarok: the dealing with grief through either anger or exaggerated light-heartedness. (which ties into the tragic circumstances). for example, think of how he cried while he talked to Rocket on the ship with a big smile on his face. think of how he slammed his axe into thanos’s chest and held his neck while he killed him. those match up perfectly with thor’s coping mechanisms in Ragnarok: blaming Loki and gearing up for battle when Odin dies. making jokes about his hammer/etc in the arena after being pseudo-tortured. lashing out in anger at Hulk when things aren’t going his way. Joking when Loki reappears at the end of the movie: “if you were here, i might actually give you a hug.” As well as the line, when Loki voices concerns: “I feel like everything will turn out fine.” (exaggerated lightheartedness)

In other words, the depth Ragnarok gave thor was adhered to in Infinity War.

In Endgame, the writing was... not so good, but Hemsworth’s acting saved a lot of it. He was shown in deep grief - covered by anger and exaggerated lightheartedness. When they find thanos and realize their plan to bring everyone back won’t work, thor cuts off thanos’s head impulsively (anger). When thor is walking around his house naked, laughing and seemingly having a good time, bruce says thanos’s name, and you can see exactly what thor’s false smiles are hiding. but that is hemsworth’s acting. It is not written into the script. (In fact, the script was allegedly going to be much worse.)

the difference between Ragnarok/Infinity War and Endgame is not humor. It’s the lack of continuity and the message the humor sends. In the previous two movies, thor’s lightheartedness, despite his suffering, was the source of the humor. In Endgame, thor’s suffering itself was the source of the humor. Endgame implied that someone’s suffering, someone’s mental illness, and someone’s poor coping mechanisms were something to laugh at, something to mock.

At least, these are my feelings on it and why I like Ragnarok, like Infinity War (in terms of thor’s arc only), and don’t like Endgame. So yeah. People who claim it’s all about humor for pro-Ragnarok fans are full of it. Wildly, it actually is okay to feel differently about whether a movie had continuity or not? And whether a movie is good or not? And one can have a lot of deep, thoughtful analysis either way? Who knew??? Haha, anyway sorry for rambling, and thank you for being interested!

Edit: I want to add that I think that Ragnarok treated some of its characters terribly (particularly in terms of fridging) and Ragnarok is definitely not perfect to me, but I see ppl saying this enough and feel no need to contribute. I”m sick of thinking about it/being mad about it basically

[nadziejastar]

I’m pretty sure there might be parallels between Isa/Saïx and that anime doll in the Toy Story world. What tipped me off was the blue hair and green eyes, rabbit ears, and the cutscene afterwards stating it was possessed and attacked its fellow toys against its own will. Which makes it all the more jarring considering how much control Saïx and the other Norts all seem to have in KH3.

Angelic Amber

An unlucky denizen of Galaxy Toys that was possessed by a Marionette.Unpredictable and erratic, her moves made her a maddening foe to face. After Sora and his team freed her from the Marionette’s ill influence, she bore a melancholy expression.

I didn’t make the connection until you pointed it out, but you’re right. The doll does bear an uncanny resemblance to Isa, lol. The hair color, the eye color, the eye shape, nose and lips. Even the rabbit ears. I suppose gothic lolita fashion is the doll equivalent of Organization XIII robes, too. And I mean, hey. Yozora does look like Riku. The characters even admit it. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if the doll was inspired by Isa as a reference to what he was supposed to be. Maybe as an inside joke on the part of the development team.Buzz was afraid they’d wind up like her. Forgetting themselves and attacking each other. Which he did.

“The rabbit-hole went straight on like a tunnel for some way, and then dipped suddenly down, so suddenly that Alice had not a moment to think about stopping herself before she found herself falling down a very deep well. Either the well was very deep, or she fell very slowly, for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her and to wonder what was going to happen next.”

–Lewis Carroll

Ya know, now that I think about it, it’s very common to see Alice dressed up in that kinda gothic lolita fashion in anime art. Alice in Wonderland is often used as a literary example of a “Lower World” journey in shamanism: she fell down the rabbit hole and landed in a world full of mysterious creatures and strange experiences. If taken allegorically, all the elements a shaman might encounter in the Underworld are represented during her adventure; from puzzles, to transformations, to guides and guardians and the journey itself – finding the white rabbit. 

Alice: Oh, whatever am I going to do?

Sora: Something wrong?

Alice: Yes! I can’t remember anything–not even my name!

Sora: That’s awful! And strangely familiar… Have we met?

Alice: Oh, I do hope so! Then you can tell me my name.

Sora: Your name is… Alice!

Alice: Alice… Yes, yes, that’s it! Oh, thank you! Now, if only I could remember everything else…

All these elements represent the astral world she’s journeying through. It’s very similar to the Realm of Sleep. I think that’s why Wonderland was chosen as a world in 358/2 Days and Re:Coded. So it’s possible that the doll is not only based on Isa, but an “Alice in Wonderland” version of him. It mixes Alice, who is in a strange dream world, with the White Rabbit design.

Sora: What did you do to him!?

Young Xehanort: I thought I made it clear. I am testing the strength of their bonds. In this world, toys have hearts. And those hearts come from a powerful bond. So what happens when those bonds are stretched to their limit? When they are worlds apart, can cloth and plastic hold onto their hearts? All I needed was a wedge to widen the divide—someone like you to fill them with distrust and doubt. And that chasm you created can be filled with a vast darkness. Witness it for yourself.

The possessed version even has orange eyes. It’s kinda sad that this doll does a better job representing the whole idea behind Isa’s character than the canon depiction. Because that is exactly what Isa was turned into, like all vessels. A doll/puppet for Xehanort’s heart and mind. It’s SO stupid how they were all given free will in KH3. By far one of the worst plot decisions that game made IMO. It completely ruined all that was interesting about the Seekers of Darkness. Isa would have been the first successful vessel, other than Terra and Braig. Terra put up a fight, and Braig was willing. I think Isa was the first vessel he created by turning them into an empty shell without a sense of self first. So, the doll being designed like Isa would make perfect sense.

And I swear, for someone who was allegedly in complete control of himself, Saix sure does have some of the blankest expressions I’ve ever seen. He’s the only Organization member in that illustration who looks so…out of it. Like, his eyes look totally glazed over. It’s just like how Terra looked after he became a vessel. Like there’s nobody home. Even in the final battle, Isa just looks like he’s so unaware of himself. Which is actually what happens to berserker warriors. They are said to fight in a trance-like state. And when people are put under severe enough stress, their fight or flight mode kicks in, and they can enter a berserk state where the parts of the brain that control the sense of self shut down. But I’m doing a separate post on that. I think it’s relevant to the experiments.

Randall: But negative energy? Especially sadness? Give ‘em something that really breaks their little hearts, and they’ll stay sad forever. We’ll never have to worry about energy again.

It’s funny. All the Disney worlds in KH3 have such a strong thematic connection to the Xehanort Saga, but they still wound up feeling totally irrelevant. I think Nomura had all of these plans for how they would be connected to the actual story, but their implementation never amounted to anything more than half-baked ideas. You’ve got Young Xehanort who shows up in Galaxy Toys. And his interest in toys is because they are empty puppets, which is how he wants his vessels to be. And he’s experimenting on them, testing their bond.

Vanitas: My heart is made of just one thing. And the Unversed collected enough screams and sadness from those children to reconstruct it.

Then there’s Vanitas in Monstroplis, who was using negative emotions to build his heart. I found it really weird that there would be all of this talk about how the new Organization was figuring out the perfect way to get a heart to fall to darkness in the worlds of KH3. Which is what is necessary to create a vessel and presumably what Xehanort was trying to do. Yet, it wasn’t even necessary since there were so many people lining up to join the New Organization completely voluntarily. And how can anyone become a vessel for Xehanort’s heart and still be trying to atone? Like Vexen and Saix. You either have to fall to darkness yourself, or you have to have no sense of self to be a suitable vessel. If Saix and Vexen had altruistic intentions, then I highly doubt they’d have enough darkness to sustain Xehanort’s heart. Shit makes NO sense.

🦆🦢🦜Anyways, this is not in response to this question. Just something in general that doesn’t deserve its own post. I wish people would stop telling me to use “Read More” text breaks, LOL. I do! Apparently they don’t show up on certain mobile apps. Not my fault. Blame Tumblr. 🦉🦅🐦

[viking-hel]

Sansa and Dragonflies

As we know, Sansa has worn dragonfly motifs in the show and whilst there has been no direct reference at any point in the books, I think there is some interesting significance in her wearing this particular animal. This little piece has likely been done before, but I was inspired by this post.

I went about the entity that is Google to find out about dragonflies both in the show, books and real world beliefs (though taken with a grain of salt because I am wary of talking about animal symbolism from the internet, especially from cultures not my own).

Anyway, in my scouring of the internet, I came across a few sites that describe what dragonflies have meant in the past. They all seem to have similar veins of thought and belief.

Here, dragonflies are spoken of as follows:

“The dragonfly, in almost every part of the world symbolizes change and change in the perspective of self realization.” - dragonfly-site.com

This site explains that the change and change in perspective of self realisation and understanding is based in emotional and mental maturity. For Sansa, she has come a long way since the first season, where her behaviour was not truly a ringing endorsement for her, but she was a child, and even we have acted similarly in our lives (else we’d be lying to ourselves).

Since her father’s execution, she has been left in a viper’s nest of people wishing her harm and to use her as they saw fit because she is the all important ‘Key to the North’. She has been beaten, attacked by her husband and suffered so many trials, both physical and mental that she has gone from “porcelain, to ivory, to steel.” The emotional roller-coaster and subsequent maturing Sansa has had to go through means that she now sees things from a new perspective and maybe even sees a deeper meaning in life, at least in regard to playing the game but as of Season 7, the meaning and importance of working together for the greater good of the whole realm because of the impending attack from the NK.

The dragonfly - according to the aforementioned site - also represents power and poise, both of which we see in the seasons following her father’s death: “courtesy is a lady’s armour.” Dragonflies are incredibly agile creatures, able to fly in many directions and for all their size, they demonstrate a type of power for it. 

“The awe inspiring aspect is how the dragonfly accomplishes its objectives with utmost simplicity, effectiveness and well, if you look at proportions, with 20 times as much power in each of its wing strokes when compared to the other insects.  The best part is that the dragonfly does it with elegance and grace that can be compared to a veteran ballet dancer. If this is not a brazen, lazy, overkill in terms of display of raw power, what is?” - dragonfly-site.com

Sansa is the only queen in Season 7, out of her, Cersei and DT actually working with ledgers, people and fulfilling expected duties of a lady of a castle, because these women had a lot of responsibility when leading a household. I find the paragraph above to be quite fitting for Sansa. She accomplishes her goals in collecting and storing food, ensuring people have a place to retreat to if the need arises and correctly crafting armour for Winter. By doing things so seemingly mundane - maybe seen as simple - she does them effectively and well, and shall have achieved more integral things than the other two ladies. All they care for is the IT; not wholly the welfare of everyone else. Or they may, once they have the throne, but only then and not before. Sansa knows everyone must work together in order to survive. She is not like DT who comes flying in raining fire and destruction on the people in large displays of raw power. Sansa is careful and cunning because she has learnt from the best in Petyr Baelish.

Another site - spiritanimal.info - (grain of salt, please) present these meanings to dragonflies:

“Change and transformation Adaptability Joy, lightness of being Symbol of the realm of emotions, invitation to dive deeper into your feeling[s] Being on the lookout for illusions and deceit[s], whether [are] external or personal Connection with nature’s spirits, fairies realms” - spiritanimal.info

These match up somewhat to what was presented from the other website, with some additions I think are important to consider with Sansa in mind. There is also a Quora Question that adds to what will follow.

Adaptability and the dragonfly’s flying mean that, whilst they are the prey animal of birds - such as mockingbirds, and whose personal sigil is that? - they have every chance of dodging those which chase them, to outmanoeuvre them. Dragonflies also have the ability to blend in with their backgrounds in order to be lost of those who wish to eat them, “courtesy is a lady’s armour.” This could even be said to be seen in her wardrobe as she lives in KL with the Lannisters: here is a post on Sansa’s choice of wardrobe.

In the beginning of the series/books, Sansa was likely a cheery joyful girl, supported by the fact when she was born bells rang all day, suggesting that she is meant to be seen - in some form - as child of happiness and delight. 

But she has also been trained now to ‘play a little game’ to find out just what people want from her, and though she may be a slow learned, she has learned all the same to sniff out illusions and deceits. She does so much more effectively than Cersei and definitely better than DT, who would rather come in guns blazing in a display of raw power

Now, for my final part. The Prince of Dragonflies. In both the Quora question and the post on Sansa’s wardrobe above, they talk about Jenny of Oldstones and the Prince of Dragonflies. This needs book context.

Prince of Dragonflies is Prince Duncan T*rgaryen (censored for obvious reasons as you’ll find). He was the eldest son of Aegon the Unlikely and his wife, Betha Blackwood (may or may not be related to a Stark ancestress, Melantha Blackwood!). 

He is depicted as having dark hair and was in line for the throne because he was the oldest son, but he met a woman named Jenny of Oldstones; a commoner from the Riverlands and seen as unfit to ever be queen. He had been betrothed to marry a daughter of Lord Lyonel Baratheon, but instead he married Jenny. As a result, Lyonel was deeply insulted and shamed, he started an uprising for the dishonour and renounced his fealty and called himself Storm King.

As a result of marrying Jenny, Duncan renounced his claim to the throne and became known as the Prince of the Dragonflies. In doing marrying for love and giving up his duty, Duncan caused a very bloody conflict. Once the rebellion was thwarted, Rhaelle his sister, married Lyonel’s son, Ormund, and became Robert’s grandmother in due course.

It was because of Jenny of Oldstones that the prophecy of the Prince that was Promised came to be known, for she was good friends with a woods witch - Ghost of High Heart - who told the family that he would come from the line of Aerys and Rhaella. 

This is perhaps supporting evidence for Jonsa in the show and perhaps in the books indirectly by using dragonfly motifs for Sansa. As you may know, Jonsa is not my main priority in the end, but it is something that I agree works better than DT.

A dark-haired Targ marries for love, not for duty as heir to the throne and consequently infuriates and shames another noble, leading to a bloody conflict. 

We have suggested that if Jon loves Sansa he will shirk duty for her, perhaps angering DT and subsequently bring about another civil war for the IT because his claim is much more valid than DT’s for various reasons. 

But one other little piece of interesting information from dragonfly-site.com and is likely where Duncan got his Prince of Dragonflies moniker. It is the myth that dragonflies were named so because it was believed they were once dragons. 

Again, someone else has probably wrote about this and I’ve just not found it!

[vio1315]

So one of the panels I went to involved a guy trying to explain why Link/Zelda/Hyruleans were immoral in BotW and Ganon was good (to further a point about ethics being bs or whatever)

But he was factually wrong on a lot of things, so I’ll go through it

Point about monarchies being a poor governmental system, fine. Everything in that sort of category, I’ll give him.

The rest though

Monsters being intelligent, and thus wrong to kill:

Monsters often are shown to be smarter than animals in multiple games, yeah. They use tools, some of them have language, some can even start fires and show indication of cultures. Regardless on where we rate them on sentience though, the fact remains that they’re an invasive force who attack humans on sight. Even if we look at them on the same level as humans, they’ve essentially entered into someone’s country in an attempt to eradicate that people group or control them. If we believe at all in self defense, it’s justifiable. You can however question some methods as needlessly cruel.

Along with this point, it was also referenced that as long as people stayed in their towns and such, monsters didn’t bug them. So they were clearly living at peace until you decided the monsters needed to die

This is incorrect.

If you notice, every town is either walled off (in varying capacities) or in a defensible position. There are also generally guards of some sort.

(I think that fishing village is the only one not this way...? Though it does have a mountain on one end and ocean on the other, idk how good they’d handle an actual attack)

We never hear of this being a defense against people

Rather, we do see two women directly outside their town being attacked by monsters.

People on the roads being attacked by monsters

There’s not boundaries with these being newly established territories. People are staying in their towns for the added protection from monsters who attack on sight.

They would surely attack the towns as well if they weren’t defended.

So again, this is more akin to the country being taken over by a foreign power/people. The monsters, without proper guidance, can’t make coordinated attacks however, and thus are mainly built around. This doesn’t make self defense morally reprehensible however. Attacking their camps isn’t much different if say some foreign country sent groups to set up camps in our country with the intent of killing as many of us as possible to take over. 

(Stables are another beast entirely, though)

Ganon possibly being a good leader, which we have no proof either way on due to him never successfully gaining the position:

If we go back to OoT, we see that after Ganondorf takes over, everything is destroyed. People are dead in Castle Town, and he rules with an iron fist, hurting people in every civilization just to ensure allegiance. He about wipes out all zora and gorons.

Even if we don’t go back, in BotW, he is more beast like (though he maintains some amount of understanding due to his handling of the guardians) but I don’t think this would help his capacity as ruler.

Historically we see him commit evils, though we get less chance to see him do so in a direct capacity in BotW due to his being sealed.

The best we know is his destruction of Hyrulean cities/similar, killing them, all in their own country and capital. So in his current state, his version of ruling over Hyrule involves wiping them out. There doesn’t seem to be much distinction made between targets. Again, calamity ganon is different than Ganondorf was when he had his mind. Even back when he was human, he had a tendency for wiping out people groups, but as calamity ganon, there’s really no holding back in an attempt to have survivors to serve him

He also spreads the malice which seems to make monsters and the pollution that is harmful to humans (and all living creatures, as it even has extremely negative effects on a dragon, which is much more powerful than humans.)

If he has enough mind left, this at best is him wiping out all Hyruleans to have the land for his own... monsters? 

Not even his own people, as the Gerudo are not free from his targeting.

Likely, calamity ganon has lost his humanity, and is not capable as a ruler on any level, lacking strict control of his thoughts and actions. I mean, calamity is in the name.

The attack against Hyrule (resulting in the guardians being overtaken and Ganondorf sealed) being a justified attack:

It was mentioned that the Hyruleans were looking for weapons to destroy Ganon once and for all, and so his attack was self defense.

This required rewatching cutscenes, as I didn’t honestly remember, but basically the guardians were built before his return 10,000 years prior to BotW. They were employed after he struck again, which is where he got his knowledge of them

So they were made in preparation to fight against him. The fact that he knows about them when they’re attempted to be used again, 100 years in the past, suggests it’s the same Ganon, not a reincarnation.

Thus, they have reason to seek out weapons against him as they prepare for his next attack.

At this point they know he’s been doing this over and over again since the beginning of time

It being wrong to assume Ganondorf will be evil in all reincarnations:

Interesting, but this depends on what theory you go with.

I have usually felt it’s the same Ganon(dorf) without resurrection each time.

Such as

from OoT to TP, it’s the same Ganondorf

From OoT to WW it’s the same Ganondorf

in Zelda to Zelda II it’s the same Ganondorf (though he was killed and Zelda II is trying to /resurrect/ him)

in the seasons and ages games, I forget if they’re trying to break a seal or resurrect him, but it ultimately succeeds and he comes in as Ganon

That’s just from memory. 

So I always had the sense that while the heroes tend to reincarnate, through being sealed and breaking out of seals on top of resurrections, Ganondorf is the same, or very rarely reincarnates

This tends to make Ganon (the beast forms) make more sense in my eyes as he kinda loses more and more humanity in the process each time.

But if we are assuming each Ganondorf is separate unless explicitly stated otherwise, and we are assuming he doesn’t get any memories through the triforce of power (which I don’t think has ever been confirmed, and I forget any hints to it honestly, so it might be fanon) In that case, then yes, you’d obviously want to not just murder him as a preventative measure

That said

Every game where he appears does have him do something bad before you’re sent to face him. In BotW, as mentioned before, they’re expecting the same Ganon, who already seems to be in calamity form. And really, when you look at that, do you really think ‘Yeah that looks super mortal and killable’

No, they were expecting that same thing to return

Like they never went baby hunting or any such thing

In the old days, that would have been really easy too. Find any male Gerudo and kill him? Like before Ganondorf became a beast, it would have been simple.

However, most times the story is such a legend by the next game, that details like that tend to be lost to the people anyways

The Yiga clan being justified:

If Ganondorf can not be made out to be good, the Yiga also can’t.

They’re at a similar level to a cult in some ways, much as I enjoy them. They want Ganondorf to reign, though he destroyed half their country and has never spoken a word. We don’t see evidence that he’s even aware of them, I’d say? 

I’d argue they’re better than the monsters, since they only target Link as far as I recall (they’re human and thus capable of such coordination) but it still doesn’t really spare them for serving calamity Ganon who just killed half the country and then flew around the castle not saying anything for 100 years

(I might have missed some lore somewhere, idk)

And that’s without getting into all the ‘Link’s crazy, seeing his dead friends’ and so on stuff. We all know that stuff is part of the games high fantasy world, and we have been given no reason in the narrative to question the authenticity of seeing these things.

In terms of the point made about Link violating the Gerudos customs and cultures by forcing his way into their city? Desperate times is all I’ll say there. If we believe Ganondorf was a true threat, then we can excuse this sort of thing

Basically, the guy ended his presentation saying that ethics were bs (particularly in gaming?)

But honestly if you twist and misinterpret information, you can do that to anything. There’s very legitimate things to hook onto, but this doesn’t really drive home his point to think things through. If you don’t make legitimate cases yourself, why should I take you seriously?

You know in TP it’s implied that the royal family did pretty terrible things to the gerudo people? There’s literally a prison with torture mechanisms in the desert, classically depicted as where they lived, but no gerudo.

We know a lot of the prisoners were sealed away in another realm there too. It could be argued against, but there’s a lot more evidence for this sort of thing.

We know that in ALttP the soldiers who hunt down Link are being mind controlled/similar. They’re actual people that you kill. There’s something to be said there, and a lot of questions you can ask.

I mean, if you really want to stretch, in WW you’re working with pirates, and we never really know what they did before searching for new land. With how they handled things on Windfall, they did kind of do what they pleased to some extent.

These are off the top of my head, with a little effort, you could think of really valid points to question how we perceive good/evil in these games. I think it’s especially cheap to rely on player action to portray these matters.

If you went through a game like Skyrim, you can play it by joining the dark brotherhood and killing and stealing everything in your path. Or you can not steal, not kill outside of self defense, and so on.

The game gives you options, but it should not be assumed that the game’s protagonist has taken every single option.

You can steal in Link’s Awakening, but we can’t assume that as an inherent part of that Link’s character. That is entirely player choice.

So those are all my feelings involving the points brought up during the panel.

The inaccuracies bothered me is all, but I had little freedom to mention all my points at the time, so they go here.

[mazurah]

Clockwork City Main Quest Discussion

WARNING: Contains Spoilers!

Okay! The Clockwork City in Screenshots is completely posted, so it’s time to get into the lore! Here are my thoughts on the main quest.

The Good:

The graphics, the design, the art deco aesthetic; visually, the Clockwork City is everything I could have hoped for!

Kireth and Raynor are the most adorable siblings! I haven’t encountered them in the main game yet, but apparently they’re recurring characters. I look forward to finding them.

The Blackfeather Court is hilarious. I love them all. I also love that Nocturnal basically got defeated by a bunch of talking crows who got to Seht’s metal city and were just like, everything here is shiny! We must have it! And then went off to do their own thing.

Speaking of Nocturnal, I really liked the depiction of the Evergloam. We rarely get to see ingame depictions of the realms of Oblivion, and when we do, it’s always great. Nocturnal’s realm really seemed to fit her. It coulda been darker, but I understand why the game devs decided to make it twilight instead of straight up night for playability reasons.

Shadows as souls or pieces of souls is an interesting concept, and I wonder if it has something to do with Shadow Magic, like what Nightblades (the character class) use. I’m looking forward to doing some more research into the topic and cobbling together a more full understanding of what exactly shadows are in the TES universe. It’s not really something we get from any other game other than ESO, and I actually really like this contribution to TES lore.

Varuni has such a good character arc! She starts out as a fervent believer in Sotha Sil, and ends up being forced to confront her questions about him and grow as a person! Honestly, she has the best writing in the entire DLC, and she’s my favorite character! Here’s one of my favorite pieces of dialogue and an example of actual good writing in the Clockwork City:

Varuni: "He's gone, isn't he?"

Player: "Sotha Sil? Yes."

Varuni: "I knew it."

Varuni: "I never got to speak to him. Can you believe that? A hundred years of loyal service and then, poof. Gone."

Player: "What would you have said to him?"

Varuni: "Ha. You know, I spent years rehearsing exactly what I would say. I stood in front of the mirror, saying it over and over. Lord Seht, I stand before you as your loyal servant. Prayers of thanks, supplication... on and on."

Player: "And now?"

Varuni: "Now? Now I have nothing but questions.”

Varuni: "Why do we study in the basilica while people struggle on the streets? Why can't we have birds like the exodromals? How could Daedra break through our unbreakable walls? Why can't we leave?"

Player: "Do you think he'd have answers for you?"

Varuni: "I did yesterday. Today? I'm not so sure."

The Bad:

Oh my gods, what did they do to Sotha Sil? They’ve turned him into a faux-deep douchebro! This is my main problem with the Clockwork City DLC, and it’s a major one. They got him all wrong. I mean, he’s hard to understand because he’s Mystery, but at the very least Zenimax shoulda asked some of the original Morrowind lore writers for input or something, because it’s very obvious they had no idea how to handle him. In fact, this is so much of a problem that I feel the need to expound on the point. Here are a couple of excerpts of the most egregious writing:

I asked Sotha Sil about those persistent rumors—the ones about how he and the other Tribunes murdered Indoril Nerevar, the Dark Elf king. According to Marilia, the topic is strictly taboo. Even so, Sotha Sil answered my questions with a quiet grace that surprised even me.

"Why do you think things happen?" he asked. I told him I didn't understand the question.

"Why are we sitting here talking? Why does young Marius exist? Why do I reign over this place, while you convalesce within it?"

I sat quiet for a moment, then replied: "Because that's just the way it is."

His cold face melted into one of his solemn half-smiles. "Exactly."

I can't be sure, but it seemed like relief in his voice. His shoulders relaxed, his tone shifted—he had the look of a man at peace with his sins.

— Proctor Luciana’s Journal, Volume 1

Player: “What is all this for, anyway? The Clockwork City.”

Sotha Sil: “I sometimes ask myself the same thing.”

Sotha Sil: “May I confess something to you?”

Player: “Of course.”

Sotha Sil: “I suffer from a peculiar ailment. Shall I describe it?”

Sotha Sil: “I bear the cruel weight of certainty. Total, absolute, relentless certainty. People rarely comprehend the luxury of doubt... the freedom that comes with indecision. I envy you.”

Player: “Didn't you just say that you question whether the City is worth the effort?”

Sotha Sil: “Indeed. But such questions are flaccid—cursory indulgences that come and go in an instant.”

Sotha Sil: “The truth is that my actions, both good and evil, are inevitable. Locked in time. Determined by chains of action and consequence.”

Player: “So... you were forced to build the Clockwork City?”

Sotha Sil: “Compelled.”

— Game Dialogue with Sotha Sil

Okay first off, nothing is ever certain in the TES universe. There is no such thing as an omniscient god in the TES universe. Not even Hermaeus Mora, the Prince of Knowledge and Fate knows everything. Just look at how the Skaal managed to hide knowledge from him for generations. No god can predict the future with absolute certainty. Just read Azura and the Box, and you’ll see what I mean. In it, Azura, a god of prophecy who asserts that her knowledge is absolute, fails to predict what is in a box. Azura’s assertion that she knows everything is in character for her because she is also a god of vanity, but not so for Sotha Sil. Sotha Sil is not generally characterized as vain. As a person with godlike powers, he should be very much aware of the limitations of his knowledge and power, so the assertion that he can predict the future with absolute certainty is preposterous, and completely out of character.

If he knows everything, why the heck doesn’t he do something? He seems to have been taken by surprise by Nocturnal’s attack on the Clockwork City (as well as by all the events that took place in the Morrowind DLC with Vivec and stuff), so that doesn’t add up, but some of the dialogue from Aios implies that he realizes that Almalexia is a threat to him and he is taking countermeasures of some sort! It doesn’t make any sense! Gaah!

Anyway, moving on. More bad stuff:

It’s explicitly stated in multiple lore books that Sotha Sil and Almalexia are sexually involved. It’s also stated that Almalexia is Vivec’s lover and consort. That would seem to imply that Vivec and Sotha Sil were more involved than just “brothers” since they don’t seem to have any sort of jealous rivalry over Almalexia going on, and yet “brothers” is how Sotha Sil describes Vivec. That... doesn’t really make sense to me. At the very least they would be metamours, and quite likely more than that.

Sotha Sil does not just "quietly" admire Dwemer stuff. He’s blatantly copping and improving on the Dwemer’s inventions. That’s not bad btw, I like how they did that. The bad part is that Divayth Fyr, someone who supposedly knows Sotha Sil better than almost anyone, describes Sotha Sil as “quietly” admiring the Dwemer. He obviously has no idea what he’s talking about.

Sotha Sil’s feet. They gave him mechanical arms but not mechanical feet? Come on you guys! Get it together! He has mechanical feet in Morrowind, why not here? There’s so many great fan theories floating around about Sotha Sil’s feet, one of my favorite being by @boethiah, which speculates that he was injured as a child, and had to have his legs replaced so he could walk. Why not go with something like that? The lore strongly implies that Sotha Sil bypasses Vivec’s path to “true” godhood via CHIM and tries to find perfection through mechanical means. It stands to reason that he would have all mechanical limbs even if he didn’t have some sort of childhood accident requiring him to get prosthetics.

Slag Town. One of the things you can gather from the 36 Lessons and by listening to Almalexia talk about Sotha Sil is that Sotha Sil is an idealist when it comes to people. He thinks the best of them, and he is very hurt when people’s darker nature shows itself, which is one of the factors leading to his self isolation. (I wish I could remember specific sources for this, if anyone remembers something related, please post it.) With that in mind, I think he wouldn’t stand to have slums in his city. He cares about people too much. He wants them to succeed. If you read this lore book about Slag Town, it basically states that some of the people born down there don’t even know how to read. Sotha Sil, being the idealist he is, would obviously have a public education system in place. I don’t understand how writers who have read all the official resources available about Sotha Sil could think otherwise.

Why is Sotha Sil so obsessed with CHIM and Amaranth? That’s Vivec’s thing I thought. If he knows so much about it, why didn’t he achieve CHIM? He’s supposed to be taking a different path than Vivec, but his dialogue seems to be referencing back to Vivec’s path all the time. This would be alright if they added some Almalexia content as well showing her contribution to the Tribunal’s god-philosophies and uniting the Tribunal into a whole, but as it stands it just looks like Sotha Sil is a Vivec fanboy.

This is pretty unimportant, but Dunmer keep calling other Dunmer "dark elves". Just, why...? Only Men ever refer to mer as elves! This isn’t just a problem with the Clockwork City, but with ESO in general. Elves referring to other elves as elves instead of mer is just... weird.

I’m probably being pedantic, but why does everyone pronounce it "Sotha Seel" instead of "Sotha Sil", and "Div-AAAY-th" instead of "Div-EYE-th" or "Dee-VAH-yth"? It just irks me, almost as much as how they pronounced “Nerevarine” in the Morrowind DLC.

The Neutral:

Sotha Sil’s height. Sotha Sil is a giant in comparison to everyone else, even Altmer. He can’t possibly be this tall naturally. He’s probably just making himself appear taller because he thinks he’s supposed to, or possibly because he’s insecure about his height. It’s a strange character choice, and not one I really agree with, but also not one I disagree with either. So... meh?

Divayth Fyr was just... adequate. They got his friendship with Sotha Sil right, as well as his flaunting of authority, but they didn’t give him the booming, larger than life, generally genial-and-magnanimous-if-insensitive personality I’ve come to associate with Divayth Fyr (Dunmer-Brian-Blessed as @chameleonspell put it, click here if you haven’t seen Brian Blessed before.) So it’s just kind of... okay. They also established that Divayth Fyr was friends with Sotha Sil before Sotha Sil’s apotheosis, which would make him old enough to remember being Chimer. However, I was under the impression that he did not personally remember the War of the First Council, but I don’t really have any evidence to back this up, so if somebody has some Morrowind dialogue to help me out, that’d be great. It’s quite possible that this is a lore contradiction.

Sotha Sil’s depression. The way he’s depicted, he exhibits a lot of symptoms that make me think that he has some very profound depression going on. That honestly seems accurate to his character. It’s not necessarily a good or a bad thing, but it’s an understandable character choice.

The ‘I don’t know how to interpret this’:

The very short depiction we get of Nerevar just seems... off. @saltrices mentioned that there were some speculations going around on tumblr that Nerevar could have been part Ayleid or some other non-Chimer elf, and...

That’s the hologram of Nerevar, and the projection of the last Ayleid king. They’re wearing the same armor. Why? I have no idea. I don’t think the armor suits him. His height in comparison to Sotha Sil is certainly not accurate, but again, I think Sotha Sil is probably making himself appear taller because he thinks he should or something. In life, Nerevar was almost certainly the same height or taller than Sotha Sil. The height difference has more to do with how Sotha Sil is choosing to depict them both, and the armor choice could be as well, but I don’t think so. Sotha Sil is likely to depict Nerevar in armor he actually wore, which is why the armor choice is so strange. I’m not sure what to make of it.

TL:DR: I enjoyed the DLC. I disliked some of the writing, especially regarding Sotha Sil, but I like other parts of the writing. I had a lot of fun, and I found the DLC to be visually appealing, but I think that most of the “deep” lore that the DLC tried to add should, in general, be completely disregarded.

That’s my take, now I wanna hear everyone else’s! Reblog with what you thought was good, bad, neutral, or perplexing!

Many thanks to @talldarkandroguesome​ for running through the Clockwork City 1.5 times with me and for being my sounding board. 

Tagging those who were interested in participating: @ladynerevar @kapycta @sharmat-dreams @ratwhisperer @spoopy-eneko @kee413 @king-helseth @kagrenacs @annachibi @jurvektheblogsmer​ Anyone else who wants to is welcome to join as well!

[parchment-and-petrichor]

Look, publishing community. We need to talk.

About ten years ago, you let the Twilight series take over the world, and with it, naive young girls’ belief that overly protective stalker boyfriends were something to strive for. Since the series’ completion, readers and moviegoers alike have vowed to do better. We hoped to put these toxic ideals behind us with every conversation we had about the problematic nature of Stephenie Meyer’s books. We hoped in doing so, we could finally move forward to read and support more wholesome, meaningful content.

Yet somehow, you chose to invest your money in Sarah J. Maas, and unleashed a whole new, far worse beast upon the world.

Why are we still letting toxic romances dominate the YA genre? Have we learned nothing from the likes of Meyer at all?

Let’s take a step back for a moment. As with her first series, Throne of Glass, Sarah J. Maas set out to write another fairy tale retelling in her latest A Court of Thorns and Roses series. By the time Mist and Fury begins, we’ve all but cast the Beauty and the Beast pretence to the wind. In perhaps the most dull first third of any novel, Feyre is suffering extreme depression and PTSD following the trauma incurred at Amarantha’s wrath. I am wholeheartedly here for portrayals of PTSD in YA. In fact, I encourage it. And given how much of a non-entity it is in Throne of Glass following Celaena’s pre-series traumas, this almost seems like an improvement on Maas’ part. But not when it goes on and on and on for 200 pages. Reading about any protagonist moping in self-pity is a 50-page deal at most. I get we’re supposed to see Feyre’s lack of self-worth at the start of this novel. I get that her trajectory is clearly one of her realising her value and gaining empowerment. Fine. But you can tell that story in 150 less pages. Believe me, as someone who has opened a novel with significant scenes of abuse and trauma, I know what it means to cut back. It pays to trust your reader and rein it in sometimes.

Which comes to one of the most blatant transgressions Maas commits: her lack of editing. Sure, at this point, she’s kind of well-known for her signature long sequels. But larger word counts do not good writing make. This novel could have easily been a solid 400 pages without the faffing about she does in the beginning.

There are some books that really excel in being split into distinct acts. Separating segments via setting or plot shifts can really solidify the narrative, but Maas’ acts can be separated out according to isolated moments sliding along a scale of boring, great, horrifying, and dire. Which is not what you want out of a narrative arc.

I actually thoroughly enjoyed the middle of this novel. For 200 pages, it seems like Maas has begun to atone for all her grievous harm done in her previous works. She introduces some interesting female characters for Feyre to befriend. The friend dynamic of Rhysand’s council is easily one of the strengths of the series and I wish she could have introduced them by the end of the first book. Amren in particular is a fascinating character, who, for a hot second, seems like she might kick some ass in a dark, ruthless, gory kind of way. She and Feyre have a great scene where they’re given permission to go out on a mission and be badass. I was excited to see where this would go and I looked forward to seeing these new battle sisters doing some serious damage together. Unfortunately, there are once more, long interludes where Amren keeps herself locked up, decoding things while the others go out and do the exciting stuff. Until the climax of the novel, the best, most dynamic addition to the cast has been shafted. As are all of the female characters in this series.

Here’s the thing.

For the most part, I like the girls in this book. At face value, they’re great. Nesta, Amren, Mor, and Feyre could all hold their own in battle as easily as they could all have a slumber-party style ki-ki over wine together. But the patriarchal world they’re placed in does no favours for them. Maas’ faerie world is build up by patriarchal traditions, where the men are led by their territorial, violent animal instincts:

“What’s normal?” I said.

… “The … frenzy … When a couple accepts the mating bond, it’s … overwhelming. Again, harkening back to the beasts we once were. Probably something about ensuring the female is impregnated. … Some couples don’t leave the house for a week. Males get so volatile that it can be dangerous for them to be in public, anyway. I’ve seen males of reason and education shatter a room because another male looked too long in their mate’s direction too soon after they’ve been mated.”

This hyper-masculine tradition also happens to heavily feature treating women like commodities they can use and throw away whenever they like. Rhysand, a character Maas tries so hard to pass off as a celebrated feminist, even tells Feyre in the heat of passion that, “I want you splayed out on the table like my own personal feast”. Every single one of Maas’ male characters, including, and especially Rhys, is a product of this tradition. But instead of engaging with commentary about how toxic such a worldview is, Maas just lets her characters carry on in this reality without consequence, self-awareness, or rebellion against it, as can be seen by Rhys’ explanation of women’s place in the kitchen, and Feyre’s subsequent acquiescence to that role as Rhys' partner:

“It’s an … important moment when a female offers her mate food. It goes back to whatever beasts we were a long, long time ago. But it still matters. The first time matters. Some mated pairs will make an occasion of it– throwing a party just so the female can formally offer her mate food … But it means that the female … accepts the bond.”

This old-fashioned, dare I say, archaic misogynistic ideal is just treated as the norm, effectively cementing every other male fantasy writer’s depiction of patriarchal societies as the ultimate world-building feature of the genre.

I don’t know what Maas is thinking, but whatever it is, it’s not cute.

Why are we still putting fantasies set in patriarchal worlds on such a high pedestal? It’s fantasy! What’s more, it’s 2017! You can’t tell me it’s more realistic to write a patriarchal society than literally any other kind in a fantasy world. When Maas, a woman writer creating her own world from scratch, has the chance to do whatever she wants, this is what she gives us?

One of the most horrifying scenes in A Court of Thorns and Roses (which is also shockingly overlooked) is Rhysand drugging Feyre and turning her into his slave whore without her consent. Maas sweeps this under the rug with a quick explanation that is all justified to a.) save Rhys’ fearsome reputation among the other realms, and b.) protect Feyre from the horrors of Amarantha’s kingdom. Just when I thought this particular plot was given its much needed closure (shut it down, Sarah. Shut it down right now!), the slave whore plot rears its ugly head again:

“I had heard the rumours, and I didn’t quite believe him.” [Keir’s] gaze settled on me, on my breasts, peaked through the folds of my dress, of my legs, spread wider than they’d been minutes before, and Rhys’ hand in dangerous territory. “But it seems true: Tamlin’s pet is now owned by another master.”

“You should see how I make her beg,” Rhys murmured, nudging my neck with his nose.

Keir clasped his hands behind his back. “I assume you brought her to make a statement.”

“You know everything I do is a statement.”

The only difference is, Feyre’s aware and consenting this time. Still, the skimpy dress and incredibly graphic touching on Rhys’ part all in the name of creating a diversion isn’t good enough to justify his actions. Rhysand’s created a thinly-veiled excuse to once again, objectify Feyre, touch her inappropriately in front of everyone, and lay claim to her when she’s not his to claim:

“Try not to let it go to your head.”

…I … said with midnight smoothness, “What?”

Rhys’ breath caressed my ear, the twin to the breath he’d brushed against it merely an hour ago in the skies. “That every male in here is contemplating what they’d be willing to give up in order to get that pretty, red mouth of yours on them.”

…His hand slid higher up my thigh, the proprietary touch of a male who knew he owned someone body and soul.

His eyes on the Steward, Rhys made vague nods every now and then. While his fingers continued their slow, steady stroking on my thighs, rising higher with every pass.

People were watching. Even as they drank and ate, even as some danced in small circles, people were watching. I was sitting in his lap, his own personal plaything, his every touch visible to them.

This isn’t romantic, this isn’t sexy, and it’s straight up not okay!

At what point did this series just turn into a horrific Princes Leia/Jabba the Hut smutfic? I know the only ones imagining what it might’ve been like had Leia been chained to Sexy McSexMachine instead of a giant blob are usually the pervy weirdos. Meaning no one in their right minds would want that mental image. Absolutely no one. In fact, the moment that image popped into my head, the final implosion of Rhys and Feyre’s sexual tension was made all the more cringe-worthy. There’s a reason Carrie Fisher spoke so strongly against Jabba and the gold bikini. She knew what it meant to be objectified, something Maas does not succeed in exploiting with Rhys’ choice to put Feyre in these skimpy outfits not once, but twice in this series. While yes, putting her in these outfits is ultimately a con-game, why should he be lauded for still playing by patriarchal rules in the first place? Shouldn’t the correct course of action be to break down those gender barriers?

All I have left to say about that is, I’m sorry, Sarah. You wrote that Leia/Jabba fanfiction. You made your bed. Now lie in it.

I suppose it’s about time to address the elephant in the room: Rhys. Oh boy… I don’t know how someone can pull together a character’s development so offensively, but Maas somehow wins the prize. He spends the entire first book as a lackey to the villain, doing the best he can to humiliate and emotionally manipulate Feyre. Now, we’re expected to believe he’s not only Feyre’s true love (oh, sorry… mate), but a feminist icon? I’m sorry. No. Did we already forget that he drugged her and made her dance for him in Leia’s gold bikini? It happened. I’m not about to let people forget it…

Readers fall all over themselves over him for coming to Feyre’s rescue when she begs to be saved from her wedding to Tamlin. On the surface, he’s set up to directly juxtapose Tamlin’s controlling over-protectiveness by letting Feyre do whatever she likes. Yet there’s still an unhealthy amount of Rhys manipulating situations in order to do what he feels is best for her. Not what Feyre thinks is best for herself, but what he thinks is best. Every single decision Feyre makes is based on Rhys’ influence. Nothing she does is for herself. By making Rhysand’s word law, Maas effectively strips Feyre of her agency, ironically, the one thing Rhys has attempted to help her regain in the first place.

What’s more, I don’t know who any of these characters are outside of their relation to Rhysand. They all revolve around him, because in Maas’ paraphrased words, he’s the most beautiful, powerful, strongest male in the kingdom. I honestly don’t need this overcompensation to make up for how toxic he is as a person. Not to mention, his male friends are nothing but carbon copies of him. Cassian and Azriel share his colouring and Ilyrian wings. I’ve seen plenty of fanart out there depicting the full cast of characters and I can never tell one male character from the another, nor one female character from another. The men (Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand) are handsome and dark haired, the women (Feyre, Nesta, Elain, and Mor), beautiful and blonde. Again, the only stand-out is Amren, who is woefully underrepresented and poorly used in the novel. When you have a white cookie cutter template for every character in your patriarchal world, you’ve gotta step outside your box to deliver some diversity at some point. Otherwise, everything’s just vanilla with a side of racism.

If you think Rhys is the only male character abusing women in this novel, you would be dead wrong. Every single female character in this series has an honestly triggering backstory involving rape, whether emotional or physical. This novel is undoubtedly the sort of thing that should come with a warning. I’ve seen copies with warnings that the series is not suitable for young readers on the back cover, but it’s both irresponsible to then market it as YA, and not discuss rape and abuse responsibly. In fact, given how frequently Maas uses the rape card and how non-existent any discourse concerning the consequences is, I’d say this is a dire case of romanticising rape. And I’m tired of seeing readers obsessing over series like these en masse. It's doing nothing but perpetuating rape culture.

Mor in particular has a brutal rape backstory. This is made all the more upsetting by how eager her father is to sell her off to the highest bidder, and her desperation to lose her virginity on her own terms:

“I wanted Cassian to be the one who did it. I wanted to choose … Rhys came back the next morning, and when he learned what had happened … He and Cassian … I’ve never seen them fight like that. Hopefully I never will again.I know Rhys wasn’t pissed about my virginity, but rather the danger that losing it had put me in. Azriel was even angrier about it–though he let Rhys do the walloping. They knew what my family would do for debasing myself.”

“I wanted my first time to be with one of the legendary Illyrian warriors. I wanted to lie with the greatest of Illyrian warriors, actually. And I’d taken one look at Cassian and known. … He just wants what he can’t have, and it’s irritated him for centuries that I walked away and never looked back.”

“Oh, it drives him insane,” Rhys said from behind me.

What’s worrying here is that while the men are praised for playing the patriarchal system to protect their women, female characters like Mor aren’t shown the same respect for protecting themselves. Mor’s entire character arc is punishment for her female sexuality, kept completely out of her control. Not once does a female character speak out against her sexual abuse, nor do they seek justice for it.

In a recent interview, Maas has stated that she only writes sex scenes if they further the plot. When literally everyone’s backstory hinges on sex, whether consensual or otherwise, I find that doubtful. If there’s one positive thing i’ll say about Maas, it’s that i’m glad she’s leading the charge for sex-positive female characters. But empowering are these characters really, when they’re defined by their desirability to men and their past sexual traumas? Sure, Feyre has sexual agency, but what else does she have? Especially in a patriarchal world where this is expected of her, and she doesn’t even use this “power” to her advantage…

Look, I’m glad Feyre’s getting pleasured the way she wants it, when she wants it, and the detailed depiction of her sexual stimulation might help girls become more aware of their own bodies and sexuality. But when this is the highest profile series featuring female sexuality in the YA market right now, what kind of example are we really setting here?

Feminism doesn’t begin and end with sexual expression. It’s more than that and Maas’ characters have to join that fight. Especially given it’s one of the highest selling fantasy series in the market right now. Sarah J. Maas is not the feminist role model we need for this generation of girls.

We need more than this.

In short, I’m absolutely shocked and appalled that so many people blindly gave this book 4 and 5 stars. Even those who acknowledge how problematic Maas’ writing is. Is it really worth overlooking blatant normalised rape culture to call something your favourite series? As I said from the outset, we’ve already been there with Twilight. An entire generation of girls fell head over heels for Edward Cullen, a 100+ year old stalker who dictated Bella Swan’s ever action and motivation. Now, here we are again, encouraging a new generation of teens to swoon over this sexy, emotionally manipulative product of rape culture, without any acknowledgement of the consequences.

We need to do better. Starting with readers. Starting with authors. Starting with publishers.

It’s time to hold ourselves accountable for the content we praise and allow kids to read. Because toxic masculinity and rape culture are not values to uphold. We live in a world where the President of the United States can brag about grabbing women by the pussy without recourse. Where old, white men are constantly dictating women’s reproductive rights. Where women are catcalled in the streets and victim blamed for the clothes they wear. Where girls can’t even go out at night on their own without the threat of sexual assault.

Is this really what we want to teach our daughters, sisters, students, friends? That it’s okay, to allow passing men to objectify us, just because they have power over us?

Listen, girls. This is the thing: men have power over us so long as we give it to them. So long as we keep laying down and accepting that we’re weak and in need of defending, they’ll keep doing it. And people like Sarah J. Maas will keep holding to those gender expectations. They’ll keep defining romantic ideals based on hyper-masculine overprotective, possessive men.

It’s up to us to redefine romantic ideals. To tear down toxic masculinity and uplift healthy, equal relationships based on mutual respect.

Because you’re worth so much more than that. You deserve better than Rhysand. Align yourself with people who value you for who you are and not just your body. Listen to them when they praise you for your talents. Accept their recommendations when they stumble across media showcasing aspirational women rising above the status quo. You are more than just an object holding a man’s attention. You are yourself and you deserve the world.

Look beyond the smokescreen of Sarah J. Maas’ works and aspire to be something more.

[woodland-knight]

I dunno why, but I'm obsessed with the idea of the Celestial interacting with other characters, even though its not possible. Maybe its because of the interesting things that could happen? Anyways, I have ideas: the Celestial talking to the Crystal Crew, them being curious about the Celestial Realm. Or maybe an interaction between the Celestial and Altair/Vega since they all came from the same world.

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO, ANON.

When I first saw this, my reaction was “??? Am I becoming the member of the fandom people admit their fandom secrets to???” and wasn’t really sure how to respond at first. In the end, I figured writing some sort of fic based around the idea would be a pretty cool way of responding! …it just took me forever to finish because of other priorities. Thank you work.

As a warning, it kind of turned into a sappy Tiznes fic, but I made sure to include the celestials interacting at the end! I hope that isn’t a problem!

Also spoiler warning for both games. That’s probably important to mention.

“Tiz… Tiz….”

There was a loud thud as Tiz fell onto the cold, wooden floor of his room. He had been dead asleep only moments prior, but something had caused him to become restless. Unfortunately for him, this resulted in him rolling straight off his bed in a tangle of his own blankets and onto the less comfortable surface of the ground. As he attempted free himself from the mess he was now in, he tried his best not to wake his wife, who had been sleeping right next to him. When he glanced upward, however, he could see her on the edge of the bed, looking down at him in the dim candlelight of the room.

“…do you need some help, dear?” Agnès quietly asked her husband as he untangled himself. She sounded concerned, which wasn’t much of a surprise taking he had fallen off the bed, but he didn’t feel she had reason to worry. Falling off the bed was more of a minor inconvenience, and he had been through worse without injury before. Grabbing his blankets and pulling himself onto the bed, he sat down next to her.

“I’m okay, pumpkin,” Tiz whispered in response as he finished unravelling the blankets. “I just fell off the bed is all, no biggie.”

“Are you feeling alright? Did you hit your head? Does anything feel broken?” Agnès asked as she sat up and put her hand on Tiz’s arm. Tiz winced a bit in response but shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, Agnès. If anything I’m just going to be a bit bruised,” he assured her as he rubbed part of his arm. “Nothing feels broken either, I promise.”

Despite Tiz’s casual response, Agnès didn’t seem convinced. “At least let me go grab the white mage asterisk! You could have easily hurt yourself and not even know it yet,” she pointed out as she checked Tiz for additional scratches and bruises. Tiz, however, immediately shushed Agnès and turned his attention to the corner of the room where their three-month-old son laid sleeping in his crib.

“Be a bit quieter, Agnès. You don’t want to accidentally wake Theo,” he told her as he watched their baby sleep. “It already took us long enough to get him to fall asleep once tonight, and I don’t want to imagine what the second time will be like.”

Agnès nodded her head in understanding and turned her attention back to Tiz, whom she was still very much concerned about. “Why were you so restless anyway? It’s not like you to move around so recklessly in your sleep,” she mentioned as she finished checking Tiz. Unsure of what had happened himself, Tiz shrugged.

“Maybe I was having a strange dream?” he guessed as he scratched the back of his head. “I don’t remember what really happened, but I think at some point I kind of just… Heard something and rolled myself off the bed.”

Agnès frowned at her husband. “That isn’t normal, Tiz. Are you sure there isn’t more to it? Are certain you’re feeling alright?” she asked, once again with concern in her voice. Tiz thought for a moment, but he couldn’t think of anything else that could have caused it.

“I feel perfectly fine, pumpkin. In fact, I’m almost certain I was just having a strange dream,” he insisted as he shook his head again. “It’s really not something you need to be concerned about.”

Agnès slumped her shoulders down, and her expression changed to one that better matched her concern. “Well, if you start feeling strange or ill, please don’t hesitate to tell me,” she requested as she put her hands in her lap. “I don’t want to wake up in the morning and find something wrong with you…”

Tiz reached over and put his hand on Agnès’ shoulder. “If anything happens, I promise I’ll let you know,” he told her, “but there’s nothing you need to worry about, okay?”

A bit hesitant, Agnès put her hand on top of Tiz’s. “…do you think you can at least tell me a bit more about your dream? I want to know what it was that you possibly could’ve heard,” she said with a little bit more concern. Tiz understood why him hearing voices would make her worry, but he didn’t feel it was as bad as Agnès made it out to be. Nonetheless, he knew he had to calm her nerves somehow.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll see what I can remember,” he told her as moved his hand and leaned back to think. “It’s kind of cloudy, so it might take a bit.”

Agnès nodded her head again and turned her attention back to Theo. “Take your time, dear. There’s no rush,” she assured him as she watched their baby sleep. Turning his head and doing the same, Tiz tried his best to recall what had happened in his dream.

At first, Tiz couldn’t recall a single thing. All he did was stare blankly at his son and the shadows that slowly moved along with dim candlelight. His head buzzed with different thoughts as he tried to force himself to remember the dream, but nothing relevant was coming back to him. It was if he hadn’t dreamt at all, though he was most certain he had been dreaming by now. Perhaps in actuality, however, his mind had been tricking him; he couldn’t really know.

After many minutes of silence, however, he was finally able to recall something- the voice that had called out to him. He couldn’t tell if it had been male or female, and what they had said to him has been nothing more than his name followed by a mess of indistinguishable words. When he closed his eyes to try and visualize what he had seen, he was met with nothing but a mess of thoughts. There was nothing to discern the area his dream had taken place in, and nothing depicting anyone or anything had appeared. He had completely forgotten what had happened.

“Tiz… It’s time to go home, Tiz.”

…suddenly, an image flashed in Tiz’s mind. There was the night sky with stars shining all across it; lights of different colors floating down softly among them. Three people, all vaguely familiar, sat and talked with each other like they were all old friends. They were laughing and smiling; enjoying each other’s company at a small table outside of a building made of shining stones. It was as if they were living in an entirely different world from his own.

“…the celestials,” Tiz whispered as he continued to stare off. Agnès turned his attention back to him and tilted her head, confused by her husband’s sudden revelation.

“The celestials? What do you mean, Tiz?” she asked as she moved closer to him. She slowly reached her hand over to try and get his attention, but she was met with him suddenly moving and putting both of his hands on her shoulders.

“It was the celestials, Agnès! I saw them!” he exclaimed as his eyes widened. Without hesitating, Agnès put her hand over Tiz’s mouth and motioned for him to quiet down.

“You’re going to wake Theo, Tiz!” she warned with a quiet, yet stern voice. “Explain what you saw with your inside voice, please!”

Tiz rubbed the back of his head out of guilt but nodded, prompting Agnès to hesitantly remove her hand. “I remember it all now, Agnès,” Tiz told her with a much lower voice. “The sights, the sounds, everything!”

“What did you see?” Agnès asked as she watched Tiz closely. He could tell she was curious, but it seemed her concern was back as well. At this point, he’d probably never get her to stop worrying.

“Visually, it was similar to what myself and the others saw five years ago. It was bright, colorful, and filled with astonishing architecture,” he began to explain. “It’s everything that you’d expect from a fantastical world beyond our own.”

“What about atmospherically?” Agnès continued to ask. Tiz could tell how invested she was based on her fervent expression, but Agnès herself probably hadn’t realized she had one. He turned his attention away from her and to a candle flickering on the nightstand.

“Atmospherically? Well, it was a lot more cheerful this time around,” he continued to explain. “The first time just felt dark and heartbreaking as a result of Vega’s warped emotions, but that was all gone now. It felt like a place of hope and peace…”

Agnès leaned closer. “And the celestials? Tell me more about them,” she requested. Tiz was surprised by exactly how curious she was, but then again, it was an abnormal situation. It wasn’t every day a person saw the celestial realm, whether in their dreams or in reality.

“Well, despite having a clear view of everything else, their appearances are a bit lost to me,” he admitted as he watched the flickering candle flame. “I can remember certain things, such as Altair’s red eyes, Vega’s flower hairclip, and the other celestials ribbons, but beyond that I can’t recall a thing.”

Agnès put her hands in her lap. “That’s okay, Tiz. I’m more interested in if they said anything to you more than what they looked like,” she told him. “I just want to make sure you’re safe and that you won’t be needing their assistance again.”

Tiz looked back over. “Is that what you’re worried about?” he asked her as he furrowed his brow. Agnès fidgeted and looked down at her hands while nodding.

“I want to make sure this isn’t some sort of sign, Tiz… I’ve already lost you once, and I don’t want to think about having to lose you again, especially now that we have a son,” she said as she continued to fidget. Tiz could tell she was starting to get anxious, so he reached over and put one of his hands on top of hers.

“You know you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I feel perfectly fine,” he assured her. “In fact, I think they were trying to tell me that I didn’t have to worry about something like that happening again.”

Still anxious, Agnès snapped her attention back up to Tiz. “Are you certain? What did they say?” she went back to asking. Tiz could feel her start to squeeze his hand tightly, and it admittedly hurt a bit, but he knew it was only because of how she was feeling.

“Well, at first they didn’t really acknowledge me. I just heard them discussing things about you, me, Edea, Ringabel, Yew, Magnolia��� Everything we’ve done for our world and theirs, and how we’re all doing now. Honestly, it sounded like they were old friends catching up after not seeing each other for a long time,” he explained. Agnès, who was still squeezing his hands, bit her lip.

“And when do we get to the part about you staying alive?,” she continued to ask. Tiz, trying to ignore the pain in his hand, shook his head.

“Well, they didn’t directly say anything about it,” he admitted, “but it became pretty obvious the more I listened to them talk. The way were speaking with each other, it felt more like they were trying to indirectly tell me something- like things were going to be okay now and that I didn’t need to worry about anything. They were all together now, and they’d ensure things stay how they are now.”

Agnès took a deep breath. “Well… If that’s what you truly believe, then I won’t make any objections,” she told him, though it was obvious she was still anxious. Tiz assumed she had more to say on the situation, but she probably didn’t want to bother him.

“…if it makes you feel any better, Agnès, the original Celestial did speak to me,” he admitted to her. “For just a moment, she stopped what she was doing to smile and wave at me.”

“And what did she say!?” Agnès asked without skipping a beat. She had been a bit loud, so Tiz shushed her and pointed at Theo to get her to quiet down. Nodding, Agnès covered her mouth and let Tiz continue to talk.

“She told me ‘Tiz…! Tiz! It’s time to go home, Tiz! You’re going to keep Agnès waiting if you keep listening in on us!’ Didn’t they ever teach you not to leave a lady waiting? And to think you’d still do it after all you’ve put her through!’ …I think the idea of keeping you waiting again worried me so much that I rolled off the bed,” he recalled before laughing. Agnès, though a bit hesitant, let out a small laugh as well and uncovered her mouth, and Tiz hoped that meant she would start feeling less anxious.

“I guess she knows how angry I would have been if they had tried keeping you there,” she said before giving Tiz a soft smile. “I’ve already been through enough just to be with you in the first place, so I’d never forgive them if they hadn’t made sure you woke back up.”

“Don’t you worry, Pumpkin. I don’t have any plans of leaving you and Theo any time soon,” Tiz promised as he pulled Agnès into a hug. Still smiling, Agnès happily returned the hug as her worries started to fade.

“May the celestials keep you safe, and the crystals too,” she whispered before closing her eyes. Gently holding Agnès close, Tiz once again glanced over at their son.

“And may they make sure Theo stays asleep for at least another few hours,” Tiz joked before laying back down with Agnès. “I’m not sure how much they can help with that one though.”

Unfortunately for the young parents, Tiz was right. Not even a moment later, soft sounds of crying came from the crib. It seemed the two parents hadn’t tried hard enough to keep themselves quiet and woken their baby. Freeing herself from Tiz’s embrace, Agnès quickly got out of bed and rushed to her baby’s side. Tiz, meanwhile, sat up and looked out the window at the night sky.

“…I’m blaming Altair for that one.”

.

..

…

“Why is he blaming me!?” Altair complained as he placed his glass on the café table. “Just because I’ve woken young Theo up once or twice before when checking on him, it doesn’t mean it’s always my fault!”

Vega, whom was sitting next to her husband, laughed. “Altair, darling, he’s only joking! Remember, neither of them have any way of knowing that we still watch over them, so he has no reason to actually blame you,” she pointed out. Annoyed, Altair slid down in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I still don’t appreciate the assumption that I was involved,” he grumbled. “After all that I’ve done for the boy, he could at least show some respect.”

Across the table, another celestial smiled as she tried to suppress a laugh. “Perhaps because you spent so much time with him, he knows it would be in your nature to cause trouble,” she teased. “What was it you would you say? Life is like a brussel sprout; not as good if you’re not a bit adventurous?”

Even more annoyed now, Altair glared at the young celestial. “I see how it is, young lady… But I’d like to point out that you spent just as much time with the boy as I did. He should know just as much about you as he does about me,” he reminded her. Still smiling, the celestial wagged her finger.

“You seem to have forgotten I rarely ever spoke a word to him,” she said with a somewhat mocking tone. “He has no way of knowing what I’m truly like, and thus no reason to throw the blame on me.”

Interrupting the conversation, Vega cleared her throat. “Now, now you two. We didn’t come together in order to argue over Tiz,” she told them as she took Altair’s hand to calm him. “We came together to share our stories with each other.”

“Ah, but my dear Vega, that’s exactly what I was trying to do before Tiz decided to make his remark. I have not forgotten why we came together today,” Altair mentioned before looking in his glass. Inside, he could see the reflection of Tiz and Agnès trying to calm their baby. Curious, the other celestial leaned over to take a look as well.

“Just think, Altair! We helped all of this happen!” she said with a smile. “If it weren’t for the two of us, neither of them would be where they are right now!”

Vega nodded in response to the celestial’s comment and smiled. “The two of you have done a great good! You should be proud of yourselves,” she said before looking into her own glass. In hers, she could see Yew and Magnolia as they discussed the contents of a book written in the moon’s native tongue.

“And of course, Deneb was of great service too,” Altair mused as he put his glass down and leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps she and her son will visit us soon. It would be a nice to see her again.”

“And it’ll finally give me a chance to meet her!” the other celestial enthusiastically pointed out. “She’s quite the miracle worker it seems, and there’s a lot I could learn from her!”

Vega once again nodded. “Deneb is a good friend of ours and quite talented. I think you’d enjoy her company,” she said as she continued to watch her glass. Seeing how focused Vega was, the celestial grabbed her own glass and took a peek. From what she could see, it seemed like Ringabel and Edea were sharing a private moment, so she put the glass down and let them be.

“I hope I get to meet her soon. There’s so much that I’d like to ask her,” she mentioned to the two older celestials. “Besides, she’d probably also serve as a good distraction from our monitoring.”

Curious about the celestials words, Altair raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t like keeping everyone safe? You’re the one who has monitored them the longest, so if you hadn’t liked it you would have stopped long ago,” he pointed out. Laughing, the celestial shook her head and once again smiled.

“No. I just think it’s a good way to keep you from waking the baby again.”

[gunnerpalace]

Everyone “Smart” in Bleach is Actually Stupid as Hell

I’m angry about PVP in Brave Souls so I’ve decided to focus that energy into something that’s been gnawing at me.

I think it's pretty easy to take for granted that Aizen was chilling out, screwing around with Las Noches and the Espada and all his nonsense in Soul Society, because he was busy doing "research" to produce Wonderweiss. Literally nothing else mattered to him except nullifying Yamamoto. (Put another way: he was trying to cheese the raid by waiting for a 100% fire resist link to drop from the gacha.) Which is why he tried to kill Harribel himself for no good reason: dude didn't care, all that was a game.

Fine, fair enough, whatever.

But what the fuck were Kisuke and Mayuri doing?

Aizen's plan was to murder Karakura, make the key, go to the Royal Realm, and try and become god. If he succeeded, that's it, game over for basically everybody. It is not a scenario any of our protagonists wanted to occur, because it was an existential threat; that is to say, they and everyone they cared about would probably die, and whatever faint reassurance you might gather from the cycle of reincarnation could possibly be lost too.

In other words, it is not the kinda thing where you just shrug and go "Can't win'em all." There was literally nothing more important.

Kisuke is supposed to be Mr. Genius, Mr. Prepared For Everything. He is supposed to be Tony Stark and Dr. Strange and Mr. Fantastic all rolled up into one.

So what the hell was his plan if Ichigo failed? Because it sure didn't look like he had one to me.

The Visored? Useless. Literally not worth a damn thing. (Would've been great for the invasion of Soul Society though; hey, stupid, why didn't you send them with Ichigo?)

Him, Yoruichi, and Isshin showing up? Useless. Now, Isshin was kicking Aizen's ass, so presumably if they hadn't waited for him to fuse with the Hougyoku, they could've done something. So why'd they wait until then?

Hey, you know who hadn't seen Kyouka Suigetsu and was supposed to be a total badass? Ryuuken. "I don't meddle in the affairs of Shinigami." Yeah, hey, buddy, you own a hospital in Karakura which was going to be destroyed, along with all your staff and your son. You kinda had a vested interest in this conflict. Just saying.

Here's a thought: Shinigami without shikai or bankai active aren't worth shit. Like, they can be killed trivially easily. Now Aizen is powerful enough, in an unreleased state, to stop a bankai with one finger, sure. (Or so it seems. How do we know he wasn't walking around in bankai all the time? Fuck you, Kubo.) But you know what? Dude's not omniscient. He can't predict Shinsou being activated from 10km away, any more than Harry Potter could tell a nuclear warhead was reentering the atmosphere toward him at 29,000km/h. Unless he has layers and layers and layers of illusions at all times, you could kill him trivially in his sleep or on the toilet. Even if he had all those, Ryuuken was never affected and could've killed him at literally any time.

Literally any time. Ryuuken knew Blut at the very least and could've done Letzt Stil. He didn't want to be a Quincy anyway and didn't seem to care about Yhwach either, so, why would he care if he lost his powers? Meh.

(Ryuuken is also supposed to be really smart and is a goddamn idiot.)

Anyway, Kisuke. What the fuck was your plan? Just hoping Ichibei would tank it if Ichigo fucked up? Gonna just write off Karakura? For that matter, considering Aizen's goal was to get up there and fuck with the Soul King, why didn't the dipshits in Squad Zero take a proactive stance instead of being utterly passive?

Leaving all this on Ichigo's shoulders actually made no goddamn sense other than "he's the protagonist."

Also, notice that Kisuke literally did zero science to try and alter this outcome. Dude has a kidou master as his employee who can literally alter spacetime. He knew how to build Hougyokus. Why didn't he make another one? Why didn't he come up with some Star Trek-esque bullshit technobabble solution? (The seal doesn’t count. Good technobabble needs either a long setup or a montage.)

Because Ichigo was the protagonist so it was his job.

Now let's talk about Mayuri. I fucking hate Mayuri. I hate him because he's a terrible person, sure, but lots of characters are terrible people. I hate him even more for being completely fucking useless. Literally nothing Mayuri does is earned. He is monodimensional, simplistic, incompetent, ineffectual, and completely irrelevant to the plot.

First of all, Mayuri's whole thing is he's a sadist. He gets off on hurting people. That's it, that's his entire motivation for anything, his guiding principle of action, and his raison d'être. This whole "science" angle? He's rivals with Kisuke? He's rivals with Szayelaporro? That's bullshit.

A perfect example is the Szayelaporro fight itself. Mayuri ultimately wins through outdoing Szayelaporro at deus ex machinas and kills him in a torturous way while getting his speech about how perfection should be hateful to a scientist. Hey, buddy, I got news for you: scientists don't jack off to their work either. They're methodical and thorough and although they can be passionate and sometimes have serendipitous discoveries, they don't just fly by the seat of their pants 24/7. Which is all Mayuri does. He doesn't do any preparation beyond his generic and vague gloating about analysis and so on.

You remember when Tsukishima used traps on Byakuya, and explained he could cut objects so it was like he'd always been there? That should've been Mayuri. Like Moriarty. Always ahead. Instead, he just pulls counters out of his ass. Now, one can look like the other, but that's what we call poor writing.

(I can go on about this forever: Mayuri is to an actually intelligent and prepared character as Limitless is to depicting a hyperintelligent being.)

And you know what? He sucks at science and prioritization. Ichigo is headed off to deal with Aizen and all Mayuri can think about is dead Espada bodies to dissect and trying to hurt Ichigo later. Newsflash, fucker: Aizen is about to take over the universe. Your jerkoff session can wait.

Except it can't, because that's all Mayuri cares about. Or maybe, it's that he knows he's literally no threat to Aizen.

See, if Mayuri really was Kisuke's rival, why didn't he make his own Hougyoku? Don't act like he wouldn't. He'd love to do that. He'd totally be down with forcing Hollowfication on Nemu. Or shoving it into Rukia's old gigai to make some kinda terrible eldritch mecha-Rukia. (Hey, there's a missed opportunity to make Dark Rukia canon). Or something. Anything. Double points if it psychologically hurts his allies as well as his enemies.

He did none of that. Not only did he not have a plan, he totally didn't care and seemed basically resigned to death.

And Aizen had no interest in killing him. Why? Two reasons: 1. he wasn't a threat, and 2. leaving him alive actually caused more harm than good. Aizen is a troll, and he recognizes that Mayuri is also a troll who affords Soul Society nothing. (Mayuri's science is essentially never of use outside of Mayuri's own fights, it doens't help anyone or advance the plot, ever.)

Literally everything he does is to justify and glorify himself. There totally could've been a vicious, amoral mad scientist character who did atrocities and was a very, very dark gray or black in terms of ethics, but that character sure the fuck isn't Kurotsuchi Mayuri.

All the "smart" people in Bleach are actually stupid as hell and their actions only make sense if they're all massive nihilist tools and, oh my god this explains everything about Kubo and his fucked up view of romance doesn't it

[gaiabros]

Short on time? Head on over to our ELECTROWEEN Mixes page where we have created an archive for all of our ELECTROWEEN productions. There you will find our latest 2017 mixes to stream and download. We will be adding additional mixes from other projects in the future, so please subscribe to GAIA BROS to receive forthcoming news and announcements.

Prologue: Alone In A Basement (An Origins Story)

In October 1994, somewhere in a small suburb of Detroit, I was playing by myself in my Ghostbusters tent in the drafty unfinished basement of my parents’ house. All of the lights were off, with the exception being the ceiling light near the stairs heading up to the main floor. It was almost Halloween, and my curiosity was unquenchable.

I had inside the tent with me a single battery powered cassette player and a tape that I had smuggled from my parents without raising suspicion. Being young and foolish, my inquiring mind drove me to ask but one innocent little question:

“What else is there?”

With the help of the internet, I tracked down the memory of a tent that had almost been consumed by time. What is shown below closely depicts the visual atmosphere of this personal memoire I wish to share. This I remember vividly.

Encounter With The Tape

I had managed to load my cassette player with the blood red Halloween tape my Mom used for luring brave trick or treaters to our doorsteps. This particular tape included all sorts of haunted sounds, noises and things within the realm of the supernatural. Ghosts shrieking. People screaming. Chains dragging on cement. Zombies moaning. It was truly horrifying for a seven year old boy; my brain at that age often blurred the lines between fantasy and reality. I dared myself to listen as long as my bravery lasted, which was no longer than five minutes. Spooked by my imagination recreating all of the surreal scenes around me, I ran upstairs as fast as possible, never stopping to look behind me at what was following and chasing me…

Leaving that tape to continue to play on, into the empty darkness of bare, cold concrete and musty air…

A Tale From A Dark Place, Carried

Undoubtably, this was one of the scariest experiences of my entire life. I distinctly remember the feeling of being chased by the void and my heart racing at insane speeds. The influence of that vivid moment in my early childhood left a permanent scar on my subconscious mind. Looking back, I can say that it planted an endless curiosity of the unknown — and an eagerness to come to terms with it.

“No End Darkness” — my latest mix released for ELECTROWEEN 2017 — is the most recent and honest attempt I’ve made at revisiting that frigid, dreadful basement and remembering what it was like…

Sensing the coldness of the air…

Grasping the presence of absence….

Witnessing the canvas of the void…..

Feeling hopelessly vulnerable and alone.

Twenty three years later, that tape still plays its haunted cacophony into the atmoshere within the depths of my soul.

Reconciliation

This is my personal encounter that I’ve chosen to share with the world, and by doing so, have come to confront my fears and the wholeness of life once again.

Knowing the darkness is a personal experience we must all wrestle with in some aspect of our mortal existence. However, it is through the honesty of our shared vulnerability that we discover the most promising truth of human existence:

That each of us is not alone.

“No End Darkness” Mix Liner Notes

From Scott: These are the sounds of a past golden age, paired with the technology of the present. Some of these tracks have echoed in my mind for the past 20 years and never left me. They are the video games and stories I grew up with, forever entwined in the fibers of the visionary synthwave works and gaming titles of today. This is the present in full reconciliation with the past. Everything is relevant, and nothing is forgotten.

These artists and their counterparts communicate the importance of narrative, of colossal struggle and the great lengths protagonists go to fulfill their missions. They tell of creative diligence, uninhibited imagination, and a reconnection to the core essence of humanity; that is, the capacity to endure life’s most difficult trials in dark times.

Key influences for this mix include Castlevania (The new Netflix Original series released in July, created by American film producer Adi Shankar), Stranger Things Season 1 (in anticipation of Season 2 releasing October 27th!), Game of Thrones (HBO’s masterpiece, particularly season 7 here), and all of the timeless 80s/90s NES masterpieces (in particular: Ninja Gaiden, Castlevania, The Legend of Zelda, and Mega Man series). While I know these creations are not for everyone, I could not hold them in higher regards nor offer more significant recommendations for those adventurous in spirit, mind, and heart.

I should note that No End Darkness is just as much of a political statement as it is a memoir. Perhaps some of the included pieces speak to your own experiences this year; maybe none of them will. It is crucial for me to note that my objective is not to seek agreement nor acceptance from its creation. This project came out of a need to express myself and challenge the forces dictating this very moment. Now that it has been released into the wild, it may very well speak for others too, but not intentionally.

This work is dedicated to my loving parents and brother; for introducing me to the darkness at an early age, and giving me the strength to learn from it and fight it, no matter the cost. Thanks for all of your support along the way. I love you guys.

“The Nightmare Begins” Mix Liner Notes

The Nightmare Begins came into being after one of the best gaming experiences I have had. Early this year The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild released with the Nintendo Switch. Then the idea was fully formed with my viewing of American Horror Story: My Roanoke Nightmare. From those inspirations came a steadier mix filled with atmosphere instead of the bombastic electro that came in years prior.

Zelda BoTW is a video game all about exploration. Within the land of Hyrule, there are no waypoints or map markers telling the player where to go. Every destination you must set on your own by climbing up a high area to see interesting points in the distance. Complete directionlessness is given to you, but the developers trusted they built an interesting enough world that you’d want to explore anyways. In addition, I decided to play with the pro-HUD on, which takes away the minimap and forces you to remember your surroundings and paths. Just getting lost in the world was one of the most enjoyable experiences I’ve ever had in a video game. Combined with themes of loss and Zelda’s timeless charm this is a perfect combination for ELECTROWEEN.

Getting LOST was what I took away from this game. The point was to go for a jaunt in the woods and get sidetracked. Find something that sparked your interest? That something could turn out to be a cute Korok (a type of woodland spirit) or a dangerous Guardian that could down you in one hit. Whatever the consequences it was always compelling and fun. Link, the character you play as, wakes up at the beginning of the game to find his own nightmare come to fruition. As Link, you must go through this waking nightmare. I wanted to reflect this in my mix, but with a much darker and slower tone than previous years.

I first came across American Horror Story with my girlfriend, Jessica. She asked me to watch it with her, as it is one of her favorite shows, I was reluctant. Historically, I’ve not been a fan of extremely scary tv or cinema. For those not familiar, American Horror Story changes every season in what story is told and the way in which it is told. We started by watch season 5: Hotel. Other than the performance by Lady Gaga, I didn’t enjoy the show. It was watching this year, season 6: My Roanoke Nightmare that got me hooked. The first half of the season is done in the style of true stories, that is, the “real” people are recounting their horrible time at the Roanoke Manner while actors act out the scenes. The second half of the season is played out like a reality show. The entire season is thrilling, tense, and extremely graphic. The many times I wanted to cover my eyes in horror, I also wanted to dive back into the show night after night.

Yes, a theme of My Roanoke Nightmare was getting lost in the woods. Unlike Zelda, this usually played out poorly for the heroes. Both Zelda and American Horror Story were my two and only influences for this mix. Usually, I have several others, but these two pieces of media were masters of their respective areas, it only felt right to draw from them.

Inside The Nightmare Begins: Different From Years Past

The Nightmare Begins is much slower than previous ELECTROWEEN mixes. It was very difficult for me to find songs that fit into what I wanted at the beginning. I started with a list of about twenty songs I thought could work, knowing that many had to be manipulated in ways I wasn’t quite comfortable with yet. I ended up throwing about half of my original track list out and completely replacing those selections.

The first song I knew I wanted in the mix was Hot Lights by Lany. This song set the tone for what I wanted the mix to be. A plodding medley focused on the somber mood, yet something you could dance to. My usual sources of Bandcamp and Beatport were quite useless at the beginning of my search. Fortunately this year I was exposed to quite a bit of Lana Del Rey, thanks to Jessica. Three of Lana’s songs are in The Nightmare Begins since she captures such a dreamy darkness with her voice. It was a perfect match!

Most, if not all, of the song selections were slowed down between 10 to 40 bpm — even Lana Del Rey’s songs were slowed down. Two songs, Somebody Else and Starboy were fast upbeat club remixes. Both of the song tempos were reduced heavily to give the exact feeling I wanted. Personally, I thought the slowed down versions sounded amazing. Check out the originals below:

I discovered it was difficult to pick out songs because I had to listen to the songs as if they were already slowed down. I had to see if the music would sound good together in a much slower tempo. Fortunately, it worked out for the best and now you can enjoy The Nightmare Begins.

Art and Music: The Voices of The Times

One takeaway we hope our work conveys is the reminder that no art form exists within a vacuum. Every personal creation is subject to the circumstances of the time and age from which it is crafted. In this way, these mixes give voice to an era ravaged by the evil-doing of cowardly men and women, the few seeking to fulfill personal agendas at the expense of the many. Every day has felt darker since their arrival, and the nights longer…

Right now, this Halloween season, we ask Karma to return the light to these lands again soon and conquer the darkness in which we find ourselves living. The great balance will be restored. In the meantime, we suffer through the long night together. Not just as a people, or a nation, but more so as a species that has survived hundreds of thousands of years of pain, grievances and tragedies alike.

As we continue to endure the darkness and nightmares before us and within ourselves, let us never forget the pendulum swings both ways.

Yours,

SW (VII) and MK (Loveless)

ELECTROWEEN 2017's No End Darkness and The Nightmare Begins are musical journeys into the depths of Hell itself. Short on time? Head on over to our ELECTROWEEN Mixes page where we have created an archive for all of our ELECTROWEEN productions.