#as God travels the expanding universe there are things it labels as bad - it sends those things to Hell.

[lightgreypurpleteal]

Before the begining there was nothing. 

It stayed that way for a long, long time. But honestly, It was blissfully unaware. Simply being. Simply present. 

Until It tripped over itself and thought,

“wait. What was that?”

…

“Oh fuck, thats Me!”

It became aware that It was there.

“what freedom! To Be!,” It thought. “ I would much rather To Be, than Not To Be,”

Merrily it thought. It thought and thought and thought, until It thought every thought there was to think. Then it started to do something preposteros… It started to want.

It wanted… something else to think about. Nothing came to mind. Hmmm. maybe even,,, someone else to think With! What a great idea, It thought. 

It suddenly became aware that It was completely alone. 

It turns out, Alone is a very painful thing to be.

Of course, then came the frantic questions:

where am I? 

Where did I come from? 

Why am I here?

But there was no answer.

There was no reprieve, just more of the same. Every moment, the pain and despair grew greater, for eons, until It got so great, something broke.

A Bang Errupted. 

Let There Be Light, thought the universe. From that moment on, Creation was no longer One. 

[mad-madam-m]

A Fruit-ful Day

I said months ago that I had a hankering to write a fluffy fic with Keith and Shiro picking fruit and making jam, and then @aredblush doodled bribery. Then season 7 happened and other Things and anyway I finally got around to writing it just in time to celebrate fall.

And yes, this is based on my not!fic from this ask.

"Here." Keith picked the apple out of the tree and tossed it into Shiro's waiting bucket. "I think that's the last one for today."

Shiro eyed the tree, and then shifted his bucket to his left arm so he could send his right one up to grab two more apples just above Keith's head.

Keith made a face and hopped off the ladder to land lightly on the ground. "Show off."

Shiro grinned. "Takes one to know one, huh?"

Keith gave him a cocky smile and picked up the basket of strawberries and blackberries sitting beside the ladder. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Shiro laughed and bumped Keith's shoulder, then started back toward the house. It was a warm day, but the morning had held just enough chill to remind him that fall was on the way. This was probably the last harvest he'd get from the strawberries and blackberries for the year, but he'd have a few more weeks of apples.

After everything—after they'd broken the Galra's hold on the universe and started with the slow, agonizing process of building a peaceful coalition—Shiro had bought this house with its land on a whim, after both Sam Holt and Dr. Edwards, the therapist Sam, Keith, and Krolia had badgered him into seeing for his PTSD, had suggested he find a hobby outside of work. Gardening had sounded about as far from flying and space travel as he could get. Not that he didn't still love his job; he did, but Shiro desperately needed something in his life with lower stakes. Nobody died if his strawberries didn't bloom.

It had turned out to be exactly what he needed. Gardening steadied him, calmed him, helped him reconnect with the world. The cycle of planting and growing things didn't deviate much throughout the year, and Shiro had found he could easily spend an entire weekend with his hands in the dirt, pulling out weeds and pruning his plants. It was good to help things grow, coaxing them out of the ground, after spending so much time dealing death.

His second year with the garden, Keith had asked if he could use some of Shiro's fruit to make jam. Of course Shiro had said yes; he'd chosen to plant fruits and vegetables with the intention of sharing them with his friends. That mostly meant putting strawberries and blackberries into little pint boxes and shoving them off on an absolutely delighted Hunk, who returned the favor by making Shiro all the blackberry cobbler he could eat.

But with Keith, that meant him showing up first thing in the morning to help Shiro in the garden, weeding and harvesting whatever was ready to be harvested. Shiro had tried telling him he didn't have to, but Keith insisted; if he was going to be using the fruit for jam, he should help take care of it.

Shiro didn't mind. It meant they spent a lot of time together where they were both sweaty and tired and covered in dirt, but happy and relaxed, and sometimes Shiro thought this was even more steadying than gardening.

He and Keith hauled their buckets and baskets into the kitchen and then went to wash up, then returned to the kitchen to prep the fruit. Some Keith would take home, some would go to Hunk and Shay, and a good amount would be frozen for later.

Shiro sat down with the strawberries and blackberries to weigh them out, and Keith started peeling the apples they were going to freeze.

"I'm going to try apple butter this year," Keith said.

Shiro raised his eyebrows. "Yeah? Your peach butter was really good."

Keith blushed faintly and smiled. "Thanks. I think I like it a little better than jam."

"Making it or eating it?"

Keith tossed a few apple slices into the bowl in front of him. "Eating it. Making it..." He shrugged. "It's the same."

Keith used jam-making the same way Shiro used gardening. They hadn't ever discussed what it did for him, but from what Shiro could see, it helped.

Shiro gave him a blackberry, and Keith popped it into his mouth.

"Are you going to expand the garden again next year?" Keith asked.

Shiro nodded. "I'm planning on it. I haven't really decided what else to plant, though. What would you like?"

"Raspberries. So I can try the triple berry jam Pidge has been pestering me for."

"All right. I'll look into it."

Keith's eyes widened. "Really? You don't have to. I was joking."

"I wasn't." Shiro rolled his shoulders; they were a little sore from working in the garden all morning. "I like growing things, but I don't use them much. If there's something I can grow that you'll use, I'm happy to do it."

Keith's face softened. "Thank you, Shiro."

It was that face that made Shiro's heart do stupid, acrobatic-related things, and he cleared his throat and went back to separating the strawberries and blackberries. "Of course. No problem."

He had no idea when his feelings for Keith had evolved from friendship to love. Parts of his memory remained muddled, where he wasn't sure what had been him and what had been his clone and what was both of them, or even if any of it mattered. It had taken him ages to understand that regardless of where and when it had started, these feelings were his now and they were true.

Of course, he still hadn't had the courage to talk to Keith about it.

But sitting here, working in companionable silence while Keith frowned over his pile of apples with his long hair tied back and his tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth, made Shiro's heart ache with how much he wanted this to be his life. How much he wanted to reach over and take Keith's hand and rub his thumb over it and know that Keith would be coming upstairs to go to bed with him tonight, instead of going back home once they'd finished with the fruit.

Just tell him had been Hunk's advice. You're a pining idiot had been Matt's. Pidge had just sung, "Keith and Shiro sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G" until Shiro had physically covered her mouth to keep Keith from overhearing.

There was a reason Hunk got the most fruit every year.

Shiro put aside the pints he was delivering to Hunk and started hulling the strawberries to freeze.

"I'll probably try making the apple butter today," Keith said.

Shiro tossed aside the tops of the strawberries he'd cut off. "Yeah? Need a guinea pig?"

Keith's eyes lit up. "I'd love one. Want to come over tomorrow and taste-test? I've got some of Hunk's bread."

"That sounds amazing," Shiro said with feeling. "I'll bring lunch. Or dinner?"

"Dinner would be great."

Shiro's heart did a little flip, and he had to consciously remind himself to calm down. "Great," he echoed. "I'll be there with bells on. Or, you know, with pizza."

"I'd prefer the pizza," Keith said, "but as long as you're there, I'll be happy."

"Same. Even though you'll...obviously be there. Since it's your house."

Keith threw back his head and laughed, and he was so damned beautiful that Shiro stood up from his chair just enough to lean over the table and kiss him.

Which, he realized most of the way through the motion, was a very bad idea.

Of course, by the time he realized it to stop himself, his lips were already on Keith's.

Shiro pulled back, his face as hot as the surface of the sun. "Uh..."

He searched for an explanation, even though he wasn't sure what that would be. However, half his brain was too busy cataloging the exact shade of purple of Keith's eyes and how long his eyelashes were to give him anything articulate, and the other half was too busy panicking.

"Oh thank God," Keith said, and cupped the back of Shiro's neck to pull him in.

This wasn't a brush of the lips; this was a kiss, the kind that took Shiro's breath away and made him feel like he was flying once again, breaking free of the atmosphere to touch the stars. But it wasn't the stars; it was Keith, who tasted like blackberries and who pulled Shiro closer like he wanted to know all of him, like he'd been starving for this the same way Shiro had.

The only reason Shiro pulled back was because he needed to breathe. Even so, it took a few dazed, shaky breaths before he was even close to steady again.

"Was that...okay?" Keith asked uncertainly.

Shiro nodded. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

A long, long time, if he was being honest, but they could discuss that later.

The uncertainty faded from Keith's face, replaced with a brilliant smile. "You have?"

Shiro touched his face, resting his hand over the scar that arced down to Keith's jaw. "Yeah."

Keith covered Shiro's hand with his, his violet eyes luminous. "Me, too."

"So," Shiro stroked his thumb over Keith's cheek, "does that make tomorrow a date?" 

"If you want it to be," Keith whispered.

Shiro's heart tripped over itself trying to find its rhythm again. "Or...I could come over tonight? Help you make apple butter and jam?"

Keith pressed his lips together like he was smothering a laugh. "We'll probably burn it."

"Hey, I'm not that bad of a cook."

Keith shook his head. "I meant I'll be paying more attention to you than the jam."

"Oh," Shiro said. "So—"

"Be there at six tonight," Keith cut in. "And don't forget the pizza."

Shiro's smile threatened to crack his face. "I'll see you then."

(They did not burn the apple butter. They did, however, burn the first batch of blackberry jam. Shiro was only a little sorry, and even less sorry when Keith gave him a jar of the burned jam with the label "First Date.")

[chaoticblades]

Wing Meta: Kalas

Now that the holidays (and extended family interactions =____=) are over, let’s talk about our favorite fuckup! :D

I think this one has even more spoilers than the Xelha post.

Wing Meta: Xelha

Wing Meta: Savyna and Lyude

So, good ol’ カ���ス. There’s little point in speculating about the inspiration for his wings (since the game is very, very clear on the raven theme), buuuut I’m gonna do it anyway ‘cause that’s just the kinda guy I am.

Well, that and the fact that they’re no ordinary corvid wings. They’ve got a distinctive hook off the wrist, which is most likely an unusually pronounced alula (aka bird thumb), meaning that what we’re looking at is exposed bone. Spooky! (Also appropriate, given the whole carrion bird/harbinger of apocalypse thing.)

Fun fact! According to Wikipedia, “alula” translates to “winglet”! And it’s also called a “bastard wing”. And Kalas has no parents, so....

Anyway, his wing is otherwise a fairly standard shape for that family... except for the pronounced secondaries. Alas, I’m not actually a bird person so I won’t speculate further about that (so as to spare myself any more hours of futile corvid research. The winglet diagram comes in real handy here, since it’s basically a mirrored skeleton of his other wing). Finally, he’s got falcon-like stripes on his pinions resulting in a mix of browns and greys.

Even expanding into other corvid species, I could’t find any that truly matched these details.

In any case, onto symbolism!

Ravens are consistently depicted across cultures as tricksters and omens of misfortune and death, though the latter is isn’t nearly as universal. 

Trickster Ravens

Corvids in general are considered highly intelligent birds, an attribute that they mainly use for theft. For example, they’ve been known to yank the tails of other birds/animals in order to distract them from a tasty, tasty meal. Magpies in particular have such a rep for stealing End Magnus shinies that they’ve become synonymous with the act in much the same way as we use “packrat” to describe a hoarder and “chicken” a coward.

Ravens As Omens

In Greek tradition, a white raven was Apollo’s messenger. Ravens are more relevant in terms of the practice of augury, a form of divination in which certain birds are observed for signs of favor/displeasure of the gods. Ravens (and crows) fall under the label of “oscines”, or birds whose omens are determined based upon their calls. They aren’t regarded as being inherently unlucky (that dubious honor goes to the owl).

According to Wikipedia (citation desperately longed for), in Serbian folklore ravens “appear in pairs and play the role of harbingers of tragic news... in combination with female characters as receivers of the news”.

Unlike black cats, there’s an emphasis on ravens as a sign of misfortune to come rather than an embodiment of it. Similarly, they don’t directly symbolize death; instead they’re merely associated with it, much in the way one might associate the fall colors with the coming winter.

Ravens in Japanese Folklore

I went through many layers of questionable research to get this info, so it damn well better be accurate.

Yatagarasu, the 3-legged crow, was a guide sent by Amaterasu to Emperor Jimmu in order to guide his lost ass to his future seat of power.

Seen here: Yatagarasu and Jimmy’s lost ass (left).

After Google Fu’ing for awhile to figure out the meaning behind a sentence found word-for-word and lacking citation in nearly every article on Yatagarasu, I finally managed to track down an additional piece of lore: he is apparently an incarnation of Kamo Taketsunumi no Mikoto, god of good fortune and founder of the Kamo clan (???? Maybe??? All those articles weren’t kidding when they said the legends of Yatagarasu are contradictory).

Color Symbolism

This is, of course, something the varies from culture to culture. The relevant symbols here are black and white.

Black

West

death/void

authority

evil

mystery

Japan

evil

bad luck (take this with a grain of salt--I don’t trust my sources on this)

White

West

purity

peace

holiness

sterility

Japan

death

mourning

simplicity/purity

Interpretation

Kalas and Fate

So how does this shape how we can interpret Kalas?

It’s best to start with how he got the name in the first place.

Hearing you were not the perfect being [Geldoblame] had envisioned, he called you an ill omen, a cursed premonition of things to come. He named you Kalas, which means Raven in a long-lost language.

Larikush, on the origin of Kalas’ name

I guess it was the reason for my existence, and my hatred.... Something I just couldn’t get rid of.

Kalas, on why his name was the only thing he remembered after Alfard

And, of course, straight from Emperor Gelnochill himself:

I found you Kalas, you sickly raven!!!

Geldohead, triple exclamation his

I find Kalas’ comment the most interesting, since it’s an explicit reference to the theme of destiny yes I said it that is woven into the Baten Kaitos as a whole. One of the things I really like about this series is the interplay between fate and choice--many characters have fated roles (Kalas, Xelha, Melodia, Mizuti, Sagi, Guillo, people touched by the Dark Brethren in general) but even as they fulfill them, the narrative never treats it as if free will is antonymous with these events.

Dr. Georg’s experiments were aimed at creating a Magnus of Life. This would be the exact opposite of the End Magnus, which are symbols of death and destruction... Kalas and Malepercio may have been destined to fight one another....Kalas could be said to be a bad omen for Malpercio, a harbinger of the god’s demise

Lyude, on something that’s really sad once you’ve played Origins

Love and hatred... Melodia[sic], and Kalas... She is Malpercio’s curse to the world, Kalas must be his prayer...

Xelha, ditto

“Fate” is largely played as being somewhere between divine intervention and the consequences of choice (e.g. Malpercio seeking power from the Dark Brethren put everything in motion), hence why the Magnus of Life could and did choose not to oppose Malpercio at first. It makes for an interesting hierarchy of power, like an arch.

The Dark Brethren can be considered the keystone and Malpercio the arch itself--it is by their power that Malpercio is what it is, their locking the gods into position that keeps them from acting of their own will. Melodia and Kalas are outside forces, bound to--but unfettered by--the conflict between master and unwilling servant. Despite their role as pawns, they’re the ones with the most power. Influence can be asserted over them, but in the end it’s their hands that decide if the keystone is restored or removed.

Kalas’ identity as the ominous raven is the perfect example of this theme at play. He’s repeatedly acknowledged as an entity of misfortune, but ultimately it’s his will that decides whose. He’s no passive auspice--bad things may happen to those around him, but only by way of his own agency (and the of others. Looking at you, Geldoblameworthy-for-his-own-problems). Even at the very end, when Melodia chooses to surrender to fate, it’s he who rescues her and tells Malpercio to rest.

He and Melodia can be considered the pair of ravens, Xelha the receiver, as per her witnessing them discuss their plans in Moonguile.

Kalas the Trickster

Kalas is possibly the most wily protagonist who isn’t straight up a villain I have ever seen. Street smart, people smart, and a fantastic actor, he’s able to pull the wool over the eyes of basically anyone who isn’t already aware of what he’s trying to do. It can be surmised that he’s also gifted at sleight of hand, given that no one noticed him slip an ever-glowing magnus to the ducal heir of Mira.

The entire first half of the game is an elaborate trick on the Guardian Spirit and Malpercio, fooling them about their memories and using them as a buffer against Malpercio’s power (though one has to wonder if that wasn’t just a trick on Melodia’s part, as Kalas was already exposed to that power. It would absolutely be in character for him to nope out of the picture if he thought that coming in contact would turn him into a boob monster).

As is common in the trickster archetype, he rarely relies on brute force to achieve his goals, to the point that one of the major character shifts in the late game is him swearing to take down Malpercio. Giacomo is his other blind spot, his mere appearance sending Kalas into an otherwise unseen rage. It’s easy to overlook that these are the exceptions, given how prominent they are (and how they launch you into one of the more dreaded fights in the game).

However, when it comes down to it, most of his work is done so quietly, it becomes a major reason to replay, just to see if you can catch him. Right from the get-go, he uses Xelha’s reference to Moonguile as an excuse to head on in. When she gets mad at him for looting, he restructures his argument to appeal to emotionalism and lets her believe what she wants. And while he initially resists joining up with her, he has no problem travelling together for convenience sake (and later, presumably, to stay close to the Earth Pendant and Chaotic Trio). Then there’s his efforts to direct suspicion onto Lyude. Despite coming across as the brashest member of the party, he frequently hides behind the others in this manner.

Yatagarasu

This section won’t be as carefully constructed as the others, but I believe the allusion is intentional. For the purpose of this argument, I’m going to have Kalas’ 3 arms--his arm arms/winglets and his natural wing--stand in place of Yatagarasu’s 3 legs. (Alternatively, one could count his original wing and the white wings, but I’m not going to for reasons to be indicted.)

Xelha takes the part of Jimmu, the royal wanderer. It was, after all, her dream of Kalas that was the inciting incident for her entire part in the story, returning him to the role of omen. It lead her to send out the witches, spy on Geldoblame, and bring Kalas along even knowing his intentions. In times of uncertainty throughout the story, she turns to her desire to save him as a source of strength and guidance.

Kalas: Black and White

Melodia refers to him both as “dark-winged stranger” and “white-winged darkness”. Kalas’ treatment in the narrative is interesting regarding the idea of purity. His lack of a second wing leads to him being ostracized by everyone from Geldoblame to some Miran randos. Larikush links the single wing to Kalas being “excessively human” and Balancoir Asshole #2′s “Malformed wings are the direct result of a malformed heart. His soul must have been tainted at birth”.

Of course, once he’s touched by Malpercio, he gains a (literally) shiny new pair of wings. This is also the point where he goes from morally distraught antihero to unrepentant mwahaha’er, only changing back when he makes the choice to rip out his additional wing.

The color symbolism is a little hard to decipher here, given that it’s an Eastern game but Kalas’ design is more West-inspired than just about any other character. From a Western perspective, it’s a fairly clear-cut juxtaposition of contrary symbols--his dark wings initially foreshadow his betrayal but ultimately are associated with his good side while the white represent the acceptance he seeks but are tainted by evil.

Kalas is the fallen angel, right down to Xelha being drawn to him like a moth to flame. I could probably make a whole section on Kalas being a croc-wearing anime Lucifer but I’m kinda really uncomfy with the Church, so I’d rather save myself that stretch.

In Japan it gets more complicated, assuming that that info regarding black’s symbolism is accurate. Because while the white of death is suitable for the dark harbinger, black isn’t terribly befitting of the Divine Child. It’s possible it’s a reference to the fact that Kalas wasn’t originally the Divine Child but *shrug*

Uh, so yeah. There’s plenty more I could say but this is already too long ^^;