#as she has long since lost the ability to transform back and forth from human to cresselia and vice versa | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bellatrixobsessed1 · 2 years ago

Text

Skin & Scale (Part 21)

To see herself in the mirror is jarring.

Jarring in a bizarre way. The last time she had looked at herself, she had indeed been looking at this face. A face that hasn’t changed at all since she’d last seen it. And she hadn’t seen it all that long ago. Even so, it feels like it has been ages. She touches her hand to her cheek. To soft, silky, well-pampered skin. There is a new scar, that slash on her neck that has carried over from her dragon form. As long and prominent as it is, it would have been a source of distress a few years ago.

Now she stares at it with a deadpan indifference. Her skin has long since lost its immaculacy. What is one more gash?

Her fingers trace over it and she shudders. It evokes a barrage of memories, and somehow she can feel it being torn into her throat all over again.

And it occurs to her just how terribly she was wronged. How painless her transformation back into a human was compared to her dragon transformation. It had been almost pleasant and inviting. Like blanketing herself back into her body whereas the dragon hand clawed and ripped its way out.

She studies her face. It is a wonder that it isn’t a mapwork of scars. Of bits and pieces forced back together after having been split to make room for a snout. Phantom tingles ripple over her cheeks and forehead, they dance down the bridge of her nose. And then her stomach sinks, what if she is going to have to go through that every time she wants to shift back?

She picks up the top and pulls it over her head.

“Are you almost ready?” Calls a voice from the other side of the door.

“Not quite.” She replies.

She supposes it is strange just how harrowing looking upon her own face is.

Gazing upon everything she thought that she was supposed to be.

She grazes her finger over the smooth surface of the gemstone. Her face is reflected upon it too. Both of her faces. Human and dragon, shifting from one to the other. Her tummy tickles at the sight of it. She reaches for the skirt and drapes it over the offending crystal.

She shouldn’t be reluctant to embrace her true form, let alone to be terrified of it. And yet she can’t shake the dread. Can’t shake how heavily inhabiting a dragon’s body amplified her need to not lose her humanity. How it had emphasized all of the parts of her that she was afraid to give into. Those sinister, vicious parts that everyone else feared long before she thought to fear.

Even staring at her human face, even with her newfound ability to shift back and forth she still finds herself so terrified to lose that human part of her personality. That, in due time, the wilder dragon instincts will drive out the poise and humanity she possesses.

And part of her wonders if that would really be a bad thing.

She is only afraid to lose her humanity because the importance of it was ingrained in her by a human who’d sacrificed her own to make her what she is and a whole world of them who had let it happen.

She shouldn’t dread the loss of something that was never meant to be a part of her at all.

But she does all the same and she doesn’t think that mother and father could ever know what that is like. Could never understand it, truly no matter how vividly her emotions bleed through their link.

She opens the door and gestures the Sun Warrior women in. “Like this.” One of them remarks upon seeing how she has tied the sash. Admittedly she has never had to tie one herself, her servants had always been there to help her with the more elaborate of her ceremonial robes.

These women help her tie a bright yellow sash around her waist, overwhich they clasp a belt of glass and wood beads. They straighten her shoulder guards and slip a gold band up to her bicep. It is an elegant piece crafted to look like a dragon coiling around her arm. Ruby eyes, twinkle opulently.

One of them dips a thin brush into red paint and carefully outline her cheekbones. And she tilts her head slightly up and outlines those outlines in a very light shade of yellow. Beneath that, she dabs three small dots per cheek. All the while a second woman brightens her lips a redder shade. A third works to paint a band around her bicep, wrists, and ankles.

They regard her overall appearance. “We’ll have to pierce your ears.”

She scrunches her brows. “What for?”

“Tradition, mostly.” The woman pauses. “If that is alright with you.”

“Not now.” She is tired of pain, pricks, and piercing sensations. And she certainly doesn’t want to introduce herself before a large gathering with bleeding, swollen earlobes.

“Of course not.” The woman smiles. “First things first; your welcoming feast.” The woman rests an arm between her shoulder blades and guides her from what she presumes will be her new room to a grand hall of sorts.

It is nothing like the palace with its orderly and rigid decor. This temple is a tangle of gold, feathers, and fronds. A place where man, dragon, and nature clash strangely harmoniously. At the center of the room is a very large table with a collection of platters and utensils made of both wood and precious metals and a line of centerpieces ranging from crystal eggs and candles in golden holders to palm painstakingly crafted palm leaf and floral arrangements. Potted plants plucked straight from the jungle stand side by side with dragon sculptures and Sunwarrior statues along the walls. Walls that are decorated with paintings and shed dragon scales and bundles of bamboo. Above her, they let vines dangle unchecked as welcomed guests rather than invaders.

“We would like to formally welcome you to our city.” Chief Arizu announces upon her arrival.

“Thank you.”

Across the room, mother and father wait for her.

Father with his vivid red hair and mother with her burnt brown. Two sets of deep, woodsy brown eyes look upon her. And it occurs to her that they look nothing alike. Where their faces are extremely angular, hers is still delicate and soft. A sharp contrast to how aggravatingly closely she resembles Ursa. How the set of her jaw and the crease of her brow is almost exactly like Ozai’s. They are so much taller than she, stockier to boot.

She is nauseous and disgusted all over again.

She supposes that it is just part of the dark magic–to mold her into a human form that could pass as the legitimate child of Ursa and Ozai while reaping away any traces of her real parents.

Her real parents who take her into their arms. She wonders if it rattles them at all to see how unlike them she is. To see exactly how much has been stolen from them. How much has been warped and twisted. She wonders what she might have looked like had things been different. She might not be so petite. The features of her face might not be so subtle and gentle.

Does it make them angry?

Should she be angry?

She feels only a sense of mourning. The loss of something that should have been but wasn’t. It is such a ridiculous thing to bemoan in the grander scheme of things.

Father kisses her forehead.

“Come now.” Shaw rubs her back. “I would like to show you some of our favorite dishes.”

“I hope that you enjoy spice.” One of the ladies whispers with a chuckle. It is the one who had worked on her facepaint.

“I enjoy it well enough.” She replies.

“You’ll acquire a taste for it.” Ran promises.

She sure hopes so. What kind of dragon can’t tolerate a little heat?

“Would you like to sit by us or with your friends?” Mother asks.

“I should sit with you.” Azula replies. “For, formality’s sake.”

“There’s no need for that.” Father assures. “When the time comes for welcoming speeches we will leave the dinner table and stand side by side up there.” He points to a raised platform of sorts.

“We enjoy dinner and informal conversation first.” Chief Arizu explains. “We find that it does very well to let people relax and unwind before the formalities. It eases the stress.”

“That will…” she frowns slightly. “Take some getting used to.” A lot of things are going to take some getting used to. Too many things…

So many things, in fact, that even the arguably kinder aspects of this new home are overwhelming.

“You can sit with us if you feel more comfortable or you can reunite with your friends and have that important discussion that you were hesitant to put off.” Mother mentions.

“Right, yes. I should go get that out of the way.” Even though it will very likely defeat the purpose of trying to get comfortable before the more serious parts of the night.

Ran pats her back. “Good luck, we will have plenty of foods to introduce you to after you take care of things.”

She steals a glance at the table where Mai, TyLee, Sokka, and Katara dwell. Sokka notices her first and gives her a friendly wave.

Mother smiles, “go on then, have a nice time with your friends.”

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Dragon Azula #Fanfiction

7 notes · View notes

thewritewolf · 4 years ago

Text

Old Ways, New Age Chapter 5 (Final)

And so ends my contribution to Marinette March! I hope you enjoyed this short story and that you'll visit for my other love square months!

@marinettemarch

Enjoy!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Read on Ao3

Ladybug’s earrings gave out a shrill beep. Time was running out, and not just for her. Alix was just about to detransform too, and Kim wouldn’t be far behind her. They’d all given their best, but this was one fight that they would have to take hours on if they were going to stand a chance. Just about the only thing going well for them was that they had fought the akuma and amok to a standstill. Which meant that all they needed was one good push to turn the tides in their favor.

Taking in a deep breath, she got ready to yell out an order to her teammates to fall back and regroup. But the command died in her throat when a streak of orange struck like a bolt of lightning into the titanic amok. Ladybug’s eyes widened when she could finally make out the figure.

His foot slammed into the monster’s forehead, Master Namdak stood suspended in the air for a long moment, face set into a serene yet resolute expression… and the miracle box slung under one arm. That alone was cause enough for a surge of panic, but he landed among them, staff held at the ready and eyes locked on the enemy.

“Long have you labored alone,” he said. “I am here to rectify this.”

“Have a change of heart, Namdak?” Her eyes narrowed at him, but she spun her yoyo into a shield as she adopted a battle stance.

“My heart is unchanged. But now my heart and mind are aligned. Let us make quick work of these fiends.”

Without another word, Master Namdak charged forward at their enemies and it was all Ladybug and her team could do to keep up with him. While he lacked their superhuman abilities, there was definitely something about him that went beyond the average human. Like when a single strike with his staff caused the amok to go completely senseless for half a minute. Or how a chant was enough to nullify a bomb tossed by the akuma.

His arrival was just the thing they needed to push the fight in their favor and what started as an evenly matched grind turned into a curbstomp battle. A quick purification later and the five of them stood together in the newly repaired city of Paris.

Three sets of shrill beeping cut off any conversation before it could start. With one hand on her earrings, Ladybug looked at Chat and pointed at Namdak.

“Keep an eye on him! I’ll be right back.”

Chat Noir snapped a salute as Namdak replied, “I had no intentions of leaving. But if this makes you feel better, then I welcome the watchman.”

Ladybug wanted to retort, but she could already feel her transformation fraying at the edges and ran off. Once she had recharged and grabbed the Ox and Snake miraculous from Kim and Alix, she returned to the city street. There, Chat Noir was staring unblinkingly at Namdak, who was sitting cross legged on a car, the miracle box in his lap.

“Before we begin,” Master Namdak said as he rose to his feet. “I want to apologize for the invasion of privacy from earlier tonight. For both trepasses.” He bowed low to her. “And I also wish to apologize for my… high handed dismissal of your concerns.” Another bow, even lower and to the both of them. “It was unbecoming of me and the order as a whole.”

“So�� what?” Chat Noir had his arms crossed in front of his chest, his tail flicking back and forth irritatedly behind him. “Are you leaving the box with us or are you still planning on making off with it?”

His answer was to hold the box out to Ladybug. Suspicion kept her from reaching out to it immediately, but it was quickly overruled. She took the box back and placed the Ox and Snake back inside. Holding it close to her chest, she breathed a sigh of relief and turned her attention back to Master Namdak.

“What made you change your mind?”

“I could say that it was the severity of the threat posed here.” Master Namdak leaned against his staff and stroked his chin. “Certainly while the usage of the Butterfly and Peacock are… brutish, they are effective. Alone, your struggles would be tenfold what they are currently.”

Chat snorted. “Glad you figured that one out.”

“...But in all honesty, I feel that the miracle box is already in good hands. Ladybug, you are an exceptional leader and a true friend to the kwamis.” Namdak turned his eyes toward the setting sun. “Long have we been removed from the world. Evil has changed with the years and festered in our absence. Blindly stealing our lost artifacts back from the frontlines of our long campaign will only harm us in the long view.”

“The Guardians are afraid.” The words left her mouth just as soon as the realization struck her. “They’re in a new world and are lashing out. You’re desperate to get some sort of control over things again.”

“Perhaps you are right.” Master Namdak smiled sadly. “Indeed, you most likely are. But the antidote to our fear must not come at the price of innocent lives.”

“What are you going to do now?” Chat Noir had let his arms fall to his sides. His voice was softer now, more understanding. “Are they going to be mad if you go back empty handed?”

“Maybe so. But I hope not to return with nothing to show. It is my wish to tell them that the Guardians have allies - friends, even - among the heroes of this new era.” For the first time since she had seen him, Namdak seemed nervous. “Is that… a foolish hope?”

Ladybug exchanged a look with Chat Noir. After a few moments, he gave the shallowest of nods. She turned back to Namdak with a comforting smile.

“It isn’t. We’ve been alone in this fight for way too long already. We’d be happy to have allies we could count on.”

“It may be some time before we can render aid to you. There is much that needs doing, across all the corners of the world.” Master Namdak drew himself up to his full height and gave her a solemn look. “But that day will come. For now, know that the Guardians will be watching from afar and keeping you updated.”

Master Namdak bowed again and Ladybug felt compelled to offer a bow of her own in return. Chat Noir followed her lead. While she was still looking down, the Guardian said one last thing before leaving.

“You are not alone.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Ladybug #Chat Noir #Marinette March #ml fanfiction #my writing #Old Ways New Age

15 notes · View notes

ali-kitkat · 5 years ago

Text

Hisses and Scratches Ch 1

Sometimes life was easy to get through and other times it turned her into a cat. It had been happening to her all week, turning into a cat that is. Her twenty-fifth birthday had passed the earlier Friday and since then she has been shifting back and forth between human and cat. A seal point Siamese to be specific; she had been in her room when she first shifted and every time afterwards. She had considered herself lucky because of that since she transformed back naked.

The present conundrum Marinette was in, was she was lost in Gotham, as a cat. She just moved to the city and had been at a fabric shop before she felt the magic that signaled the shift. Leaving before she bought anything, she ran into an alleyway just as the transformation took over. She wandered for hours before she got lost and she still hadn’t transformed back. She turned around at the loud noise from behind her to see Robin staring at her in curiosity.

“How in the world did you end up out here? I can tell you’re not one of Selina’s, she doesn’t have any Siamese cats. She’d keep you locked up tight. You’re definitely not a stray either, too well kept.” He mused. “I don’t want to leave you out here; you’re wandering around lost. So, I’ll take you with me.”

He scooped her up in his arms, ignoring her hisses and claws. Holding her in his left arm, he raised his right and fired a grappling hook. She stopped lashing out so as not to slip out of his hold but continued hissing and growling. He chuckled at her displeasure and she cast what was supposed to be a glare at him, though she doubted it had any effect. They landed in front of a taller man wearing a bomber jacket and red helmet.

“Another one? You don’t have enough pets already?”

“What’s your point Hood? I found her in Crime Alley, and I wasn’t going to just leave her there; she was wandering around. I’m going to keep her.” He announced. She let an annoyed growl at his statement.

“Are ya sure that’s a good idea? She seems a little angry about that.” Hood asked while reaching out to pet her; yanking his hand back when she started to swat at it. “Shit, she’s a demented little fuck, a perfect match if you ask me.”

“I didn’t.”

She started to squirm, trying to escape his grip was tough and she almost accomplished it before he grabbed her by the scruff. Her body went taut against her will and she let out a pitiful mewl, hoping he’d ease his grip, he didn’t. Another two people landed on the roof and shook their heads at the sight.

“Baby bird, you can’t keep picking up strays.”

“Yeah you’re gonna get fleas that way if you keep it up brat.”

“You lot would know about that wouldn’t you?” He replied shifting her, so she was squished in his arms against his chest. She let out a growl that turned into a purr when he started to scratch her behind the ears. She stopped when she heard someone land and let out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m keeping her.” He announced. “She already swatted at Hood.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to father.”

Batman hadn’t given a physical sign of understanding, but the other three vigilantes were falling over themselves with laughter. She heard their mutters ‘It’s genetic.’ ‘Adopting strays is fucking genetic.’ ‘You’ve gotta be shitting me. He adopts animals like B adopts orphans.’ She let out a mewl of disapproval and the vigilante who called Robin ‘Baby Bird’ stepped forward to pet her but backed away after she hissed at him.

“Alright so she’s a little hissy.” He said. She let out a growl at the pun. He jumped a little and stared at her in bewilderment, as did Hood.

“Is it just me or was that a little odd, like she understood Nightwing’s joke?” Hood questioned; his tone worried.

“Hood animals have more intelligence than you. They can understand the human language, though I will concede that it was odd that she growled at the pun.” Robin answered.

They all stopped and stared at her as if she was going to speak, she merely blinked at them in return unfazed by their actions.

“Of course, he found a cat with a similar temperament to his.” Hood said dryly.

Robin let out a snort and resumed petting her, drawing out another purr. She could see Nightwing and Hood pouting. She started to squirm, demanding to be let down. He eased his grip slightly and she slipped out of his hold, she trotted around then brushed against Hood’s leg. She darted away; tail puffed out.

“Way to go Hood you scared her.” Robin sneered and started towards her. She ducked under his grasp running to the edge of the roof. She had almost made it before she was scooped back up, she lashed out against the person holding her, spitting and hissing before she was handed back to Robin.

“Thank you, father. Let’s go home before she makes another break for freedom.” Robin said, while keeping a tight grip on her. She let out another growl. “Yes, I hear you loud and clear you snarling ball of fur.”

*~*~*~*

It had been a few hours since she was accidentally kidnapped by the Bat family.

Robin, who she learned was Damian via his family butler, was laying on his back petting her while the rest of his animals were laying down near them.

He had taken to calling her Eris, since she had sown discord between the brothers when only Damian was allowed to pet her. She was content with the scratches she was receiving from Damian, being a cat wasn’t too bad but that came to a halt when she transformed back into a human. While still laying on him. Lacking clothing.

“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, throwing her off him. She landed on the floor covering herself to the best of her ability.

“Son of a bitch.” She muttered while staring at him in shock. “Could I get—”

He threw a blanket at her before she finished her sentence. Catching it she wrapped it around herself as quickly as possible.

“Hi, my name is Marinette.” She whispered, embarrassment coloring her face. Damian was staring at the ceiling. She could hear the clamoring of footsteps headed for the room, Damian could as well since he lifted his head in confusion at the sound.

The family had rushed into the room, not bothering to open the door but break it down instead, falling into a heap of limbs on the floor. Jason, the first to look up, locked eyes with her. The blanket fell from her shoulders and she let out a squeak as she transformed back into a cat, back arched, tailed puffed out again and started to spit at the Bat clan.

“What the fuck?”

“Isn’t that the cat he brought home?”

“Yes, that’s the cat I brought home. Apparently, she’s not just a cat, are you Marinette?” Damian said finally shaking himself out of the daze he was in, sitting up to look at her. She turned to face him and let out a growl. “Can you transform back?”

She let out a hiss, backing further away from the family as they finally pulled themselves up from the floor. They were wide eyed in shock and awe, but they were on guard. Damian climbed off the bed and approached her carefully, she backed herself into a corner. She was scared, she supposed that much was clear with the family as they eased themselves from their taut posture to a more relaxed pose. Not completely but enough to tell her it was okay. Damian had grabbed her by the scruff again, much to her ire and was keeping hold of her.

“She told you her name?” Dick asked.

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing boy wonder.” Jason sassed. “She was wrapped up in his blanket, shoulders bare. So, when she transforms back again, we should probably have something ready for her to cover herself up in.”

“Will she even transform back?” Tim questioned, moving in front of her.

She was writhing, the need to flee rising. The fear she had, had her so on edge she extended her claws lashing out at whatever was closest to her. Unfortunately, that had been Tim, he let out a swear as she caught his arm. A long scratch stretched up his arm, he glared at her and the scratch. Damian had shoved him back while holding her scruff a bit tighter in one hand.

“Way to go jackass, scaring her further won’t help us a bit.” He snarled at Tim. “Everyone but father leave. The two of us might be able to calm her down. Have Alfred stand outside the room, he will be the one we call for if she transforms back.”

She relaxed somewhat as the three other boys left, but when she locked eyes with Bruce, she tensed up again. Bruce was unreadable, she knew from living in Gotham so far that it was because he didn’t like meta-humans. She understood in that moment, that’s what she was.

Damian eased his grip a little bit, not enough for her to get free. It was an attempt to establish trust she realized when she glanced at him. His green eyes were worried with a hint of anger, she wasn’t sure if it was directed at her or not though. He had shifted her into his arms, keeping a firm hold on her. She was still taut, barely eased and casting glances at Bruce before either of them caught onto her nervousness of the man. Damian followed her line of sight to his father and connected the dots from there, she was classified as a meta and she knew Bruce was Batman. She was scared of what was going to happen to her. His father nodded and left the room, there was no point in terrifying her further.

“Can you try and transform back, Marinette?” Damian asked her, his voice soft. She let out a cry that she tried to make sound like a no as much as possible, an odd attempt at communication. “I’m assuming that was a no, I want you to focus on being human, focus on yourself, push everything else out of your mind.”

He let her go, so she didn’t stray far from his side for fear that he might tackle her. She sat on top of the blanket and closed her eyes focusing like he suggested. It had taken a bit of time as she kept getting distracted while he watched her, she had to swat at him to get him to turn around so she could concentrate. After that it hadn’t taken long for her to shift back. She clutched the blanket to her chest before tapping Damian on the shoulder. He turned his head slightly and whipped it back just as fast.

“Couldn’t you have tried to focus on clothing?”

“Look it was hard enough to focus on being human with you staring at me, but every other time I changed back before I didn’t have any clothes. I don’t think it’s going to happen honestly. Besides I’m pretty sure I’m more embarrassed here.” She replied. She was blushing and he was too if the back of his neck and his ears were any indication, they were bright red.

“Somehow I doubt that.” He muttered.

“What is your dad going to do? I classify as a meta, and he hates them.” She asked, her voice meek. There was a knocking sound before Damian could respond, Alfred stepped into the room. She ducked behind Damian, the blanket covering her but embarrassment winning out.

“Forgive me for intruding, but here are some clothes for Miss Marinette to wear.” Alfred said; handing Marinette the clothes and leaving just as quickly as he entered.

She slipped the clothing on while still keeping the blanket on her, getting dressed underneath it. She shifted the blanket to her shoulders and tied the drawstring on the pants given, they were small but still a bit too big for her.

“I’m assuming it’s meeting time now?” She asked moving in front of Damian. His face was unreadable as he nodded in confirmation. She took a deep breath, gripping the blanket tighter for a small sense of security. He led her to what she presumed was the living room.

She had expected stares but theirs’s unnerved her, almost to the point where she shifted again. Damian’s father was standing behind his brothers. Jason stood between Dick and Tim. She started to hyperventilate, and Damian grabbed her, ushering her into an armchair, distracting her from her train of thought.

She looked at their faces trying to gauge their expressions. Bruce’s expression, from what she could actually read, was a mixture of shock and awe. His brothers were amused, Jason was muttering something she couldn’t make out but had resulted in him being elbowed by both Dick and Tim. He had fallen over with a pained expression and she had to muffle a laugh. Which caused him to look a little disgruntled on top of pained. Damian let out a laugh shocking his family, as they all turned to stare at him instead of her.

*~*~*~*

@chocolate1721 posted in the discord about cat Mari being cuddled by Damian and this transpired. Enjoy!

#maribat #slowburn daminette #daminette #damian x marinette #maridami #marinette x damian #shapeshifter mari #ali-kitkat's writing #my writing

453 notes · View notes

niftyneffy · 5 years ago

Text

Heart AU - Speak with your Heart

(This AU belongs to @emositecc I only did the writing. This one is a real long one).

Even in the vast darkness of space, there were lights. Stars that orchestrated their luminosity, acting as beacons of beauty while they gleamed in the endless depths of space, secured in a comfortable blanket of the night while waiting for the inevitable admiration from those who took notice of the shining orbs.

Serenity, wonder and elation filled the air for it was a night for celebration! A night for love and peace. Smoothly and slowly, the ocean washed up and down along the beach's shore, repeatedly tucking the sand in a cloak of comfort. Along the light gold sand of the beach, just in front of Steven's house and the colossal temple of the Crystal Gems, there were countless crowds of people, humans and gems, all talking, laughing and dancing as music bounced up and down along the beach.

Sadie Killer and the Suspects were performing like it was their last night, Lars and his crew were telling stories of their adventures in space, but they weren't the only ones. Bismuth couldn't help but share her heroic tales, even Peridot and Lapis were gripped. Greg and Connie along with most of the residents of Beach City were enjoying the performance. Everyone was getting to know each other, humans and gems, all sharing stories, spreading smiles and having the time of their lives.

On the wooden deck of the cosy house that rested below the ancient, gargantuan statue stood the Crystal Gems, admiring the party from the house.

With a smile that shined bright like the sun, Steven rested his hands on his hips and turned to his three friends, his voice layered in happiness, "See, was I right or was I right? A party after this whole misunderstanding is just what Beach City needed."

"A misunderstanding?" Amethyst hiked a brow. "Ya sure you wanna call it that?"

Whirling her head and glaring at the Quartz, Pearl let distaste ride her voice as she gasped, "Amethyst!"

"What?!" She threw her hands up in retaliation. "All I'm saying is that a "misunderstanding" isn't the best way to put it. After all, we were reset, Steven lost his powers and all life on Earth was nearly destroyed."

"But it wasn't," Garnet added. "In the end, everything worked out just fine, we got our happily ever after and gained a new friend. What's past is past, let's enjoy the present while we can." She smiled, wrapping her arms around her friends and bringing them close and successfully breaking the tension between the two.

Caught in the embrace along with his friends, Steven chuckled but quickly glanced down at the sea of people on the beach, "Speaking of which, where is Spinny? As a matter of fact, I haven't seen Spinsy all day either."

"Relax," Garnet spoke softly, keeping her smile intact while disconnecting her arms from her friends. "They're fine. They've been spending the entire day together getting ready."

"Honestly, I haven't seen Spinsy this ecstatic before," Pearl confessed with a sigh. "I'm happy that they're together again."

"Here, here!" Steven agreed, cheering with the raise of his hand. "Now come on, let's join in!"

Looking back down to the joyous crowd of humans and gems, washed in pure delight as the sound of laughter and cheering filled the air, Steven and his friends all shared a smile and casually made their way down from the house's deck to join in. It was shaping up to be a good night.

...

It was unknown to the Crystal Gems but in the homey beach house where the memories of laughter and joy rested, their pink friend was waiting.

In the spacious, warm and comfortable living room, Spinsy eagerly waited with a child-like smile, repeatedly walking from one end of the room to the other with a bounce in each step as her big magenta shoes tapped and squeaked against the floorboards. She couldn't deny it, she had trouble holding in her anticipation, her excitement. With pure joy waiting to burst at the seams, the pink gem began to hum in delight as she occasionally turned her head to the front door, clasping her gloved hands together.

Elation causing a commotion in her bright eyes, hearing the sound of laughter, cheering and music from the party outside, Spinsy fought the urge to break her endless cycle of walking back and forth, but eventually, she stopped dead in her tracks and zoomed over to the window faster than a speeding bullet. Pressing her hands and face against the glass in awe, keeping her smile pinched upwards, she giggled as she watched her friends, the gems and residents of Beach City bathe themselves in celebration.

"Wowee." She breathed. "I can't wait to join in."

Focused on the fun happening outside, Spinsy became unaware of the gem behind her until she spoke with a shaky voice.

"How do I look?"

As the familiar, but nervous voice infiltrated her hearing, Spinsy whirled herself away from the window with her heart-shaped buns styled on her hair softly waving from side to side. Locating the sound of the gem's voice, her eyes widened in admiration, gasping in delight as she stared at her sister.

Spinny, much like her other half, was pink and her magenta hair was styled into a pair of spiky pigtails. Her top contained two colours that were kept separate from each other, white and dark magenta. She wore puffy shorts and a pair of knee-high pointy boots that matched the same colour as her hair along with puffy pointed hot pink sleeves, pink cartoon-like gloves and white stockings.

In the centre of her chest was a gemstone that resembled one half of an upside-down heart, the other half to Spinsy's own.

Anxious and timid, but finding the strength to lift a small smile, Spinny's widened eyes did well to hide the worriment infecting her pupils. Running down on each side of her face, directly under her eyes were three black lines that resembled her ruined mascara.

Six thousand years ago, it would have been like looking into a mirror, but she had changed, she was different. They both were.

As Spinsy absorbed the sight of Spinny, there was one thing her eyes targetted immediately. At first glance, nothing had changed about her appearance, but it was hard to miss the adorable, big red bow tie that had neatly secured its way around the taller gem's neck.

Bringing her hands up to her face and unlocking a squeal of pure elation, the whole of Spinsy's face brightened like a lightbulb, "Awh! You look adorable!"

Embarrassed, Spinny averted her gazed from her sister as she held onto her own arm, setting free a giggle, "Are... Are you sure this is okay?"

"Of course, that bow tie looks great on you!"

"No, no, not that," Spinny softly dismissed with the shake of her head. "I mean this... Party."

Hiking a brow, gloom sitting in her gaze, Spinsy tilted her head in response, "Don't you wanna go?"

"What? No, I do, I really do, it's just..." The newly reformed gem found her words dying on the tip of her tongue, losing the ability to speak as she raised her hand to scratch the back of her head as if she trying to locate the words she was searching for.

With her lips twitching, Spinny finally forced out her words as she looked back at her other half, "It's only been a week since I arrived here and... nearly destroyed all life on this planet. What if I ruin the fun or what if I scare everyone off? What if someone doesn't want me there?"

"Oh, Spinny," Spinsy cooed. "That's not true. I want you there." She reassured with a friendly smile. "There's nothing to be afraid of, all of that is in the past and believe me when I say that the people out there really, really want you to join the fun! I mean, you gotta admit, this week has been an absolute joyride! Haven't you had fun seeing what this planet has to offer? Haven't you had fun reconnecting?"

The look of uncertainty transformed into an expression of happiness as her lips trembled up into a smile, enraptured in her own joy as she breathed, "Yeah. It has been fun. In fact, it's been the best fun I've had in years."

Just then, Spinsy leaned her head in and smirked, "And wouldn't you like to make some new friends?"

Out of her control, Spinny couldn't help but stretch her smile and chortle, "Yeah."

"Well come on then." The smaller gem gently locked her hands onto Spinny's wrists, spreading her enthusiasm. "This is gonna be a night that you won't forget. Ready for the time of your life?" She asked with a glowing grin.

Spinny couldn't help but smile as she found a new form of comfort flowing through her, it sparked inside her like a lighter after being reunited with her sister. Just as she nodded, the taller gem unexpectedly felt herself being pulled forward by her sister who held her hand lightly and guided her to the front door of the beach house. As the door flung open, both of them felt the beautiful night's breeze wash over their face as if it was an ocean's wave.

The sound of cheering, laughing and music became more clear to the twins as they set foot outside. Spinsy was bouncing with joy, squeeing and finally unlocking her excitement as she saw the sea of heads having fun and as for Spinny, she stood still, in awe as her eyes scanned the crowd of people having the time of their lives. It reminded her of the games she used to play back in the garden.

Like a baseball being battered out of a stadium, Spinny's pupils flung to her right as she stared at her sister and chortled, "You know what, you're right! What is there to worry about? Let's go have some fun!"

"See, I knew you'd love it!"

Quickly, Spinsy hopped down the stairs of the beach house's deck like a slinky, but for some reason, Spinny remained hesitant as she looked back to the delightful crowd of people, shaking away her fears as she took a deep breath in and slowly exhaling it out into the fresh air of the graceful night. After reconnecting with her composure, she wore a mask of determination and began to steadily walk down the stairs right after her sister.

"You can do this," Spinny breathed, proceeding to whispered to herself. "You can do this."

...

Flowing up and down like the waves of the ocean, everyone was having the time of their lives. Dancing, laughing, cheering, playing and singing. Joy and glee radiated from each human and gem the twins passed by. Joining in with the rhythm, Spinsy began to bob her shoulders up and down as she walked with a spring in each step, waving and cheering to the residents of Beach City.

But behind her exuberant and optimistic sister, Spinny failed to share the same cheerful and motivational energy. Slowly taking her steps with caution, moving as if she was on a completely different planet, she raised her wrists to her chest and gripped one of them firmly as if she was trying to keep herself stable.

Nervous, spinning her head from left to right, she stretched a smile that looked rather uncomfortable, taking quick glances at the crowd she was now a part of with concerned eyes as wide as saucers. Despite this, it seemed like no one was paying much attention to her which felt like a slight relief but also a pain that felt too familiar to her.

Nevertheless, Spinny kept herself behind Spinsy, following her as a shy child would with its protective mother. Softly, their feet dipped into the sand and left a trail of footprints that would soon be covered up by the bouncing, lively crowd. From one person to another, everyone's delight connected like a chain, joy spreading like wildfire, but why didn't Spinny share this feeling? She tried to lift her spirits, she desperately wanted to feel involved and joyous with everyone else but this feeling of anxiety kept her shackled to an endless pit of fear and worriment.

Lost in her thoughts of doubt, trapped in trepidation, it became unknown to the gem that Spinsy had stopped in her tracks and somehow, through the healing and funky music that danced in the air, her head bobbed upwards from the barren sand as she heard Steven's voice.

"Hey! There you two are!" He exclaimed, painting a smile on his face. "Nice bowtie, Spinny!"

"Hiya, Steven!" Spinsy greeted brightly, hopping to the hybrid boy.

Failing to share her sister's enthusiasm, Spinny lifted her hand and flicked a wave, "Hey..." She mumbled while forcing a crumpled smile upon her face.

As the twins stood beside each other, Steven raised his hands in excitement, gesturing to the crowd they were in, "How are you two enjoying the party?"

In a voice coated in sweetness, the smaller gem cheered in response, "It's amazing! Just look at how much fun everyone's having!"

"Yeah," Spinny awkwardly agreed with the swoop of her arm, still forcing a smile. "It's... It's something alright!"

"Alright! I'm glad you two are having fun. Oh, and Spinny... Thanks for coming, it means a lot."

"It's no biggie." The gem dismissed in a rather fearful manner, averting her gaze from Steven as she clasped her hands together in hopes to preoccupy her thoughts.

"Hey, you know what you two would love!" Steven exclaimed. "There's a dance contest going on in a couple of minutes, I think both of you should totally enter!"

Upon hearing this, the twins offered two completely different reactions.

The whole of Spinsy's face brightened like a star, grinning from cheek to cheek while her eyes widened in fascination. However, Spinny's face dropped in dismay, looking scared as if she was living a nightmare.

Whirling her head to her sister, the grin on Spinsy's face retreated to a smirk as she spoke, "Whaddya say, Spinny? Wanna join in?"

Pressing her fingers together and shaking, trying to contain her agitation, Spinny began to rapidly nod her head while trembling a laugh out, "Haha! You bet!"

"You heard that, Steven?" The exuberant gem shouted, throwing a thumb to her face as she shined confidence. "You can count us in. Now lead the way!"

As if there were explosions of elation going on inside his brain, Steven's happiness grew as he could feel Spinsy's positivity spreading to him, "You got it! I can't wait to see this, you two are going to be great!"

Swiftly, the hybrid boy twirled himself around and began to casually guide his two friends to their destination.

Following him, Steven and Spinsy both shared the optimism and eagerness in the way they walked. Lightly bobbing their head up and down to the flow of music, yet Spinny remained barren to the feeling of contentment.

All the reasons telling her not to do this came flooding in like she had been caught in a tidal wave. Deep down, Spinny cursed herself for not being able to shake away the clutches of doubt that kept creeping up on her. Keeping her hands clasped together, her fingers sealing around her knuckles, there was a wobble in the way she walked. Why couldn't she escape the confines of her anxiety?

While her mind was swatted with unhealthy thoughts and scary scenarios, the worried gem kept her eyes glued to the sand as her legs shudder. Slowly, her spiky pigtails dropped down as if she was a floppy-eared bunny and soon, she stopped dead in her tracks, gripping her eyes shut in frustration.

Disappointed in herself, Spinny lifted her head calmly and breathed, "Spinsy, I'm sorry, but I can't do this. I just-"

Upon looking up, her eyes bulged out of her head in discomfort and distress, feeling overwhelmed with fear as Spinsy and Steven were no longer in front of her. They were gone, vanished without a trace.

"Spinsy..." She called out with confusion riding her voice.

Finally breaking her hands apart from each other, Spinny began to scan her surroundings, frantically looking from left to right in the crowd that swarmed her. The fears that she had locked deep into her subconscious broke from the chains and began to infect the roots of her mind with terror, dread and panic.

"Spinsy... Steven..." She whimpered, barely hearing her own voice through the music and cheers that bombarded her.

All around the frightened gem, pushing her head back and forth, Spinny turned to the many unfamiliar faces that cramped the area. Their laughter felt like they mocking her, the screaming was taunting her and their smiles ridiculed her. That feeling of fear twisted and sunk her nerves to the point where she could feel herself shaking, shivering and shuddering.

With her lips quivering as if she was a child being separated from her parents, eyes erratically growing wider by the second as her pupils bounced from side to side like a tennis ball, Spinny brought her hands up to her arms and gripped them tightly as if she was trying to hold herself together from falling apart.

Attacked by the loud laughter that bombed her thoughts, the sounds of all humans and gems transformed into white noise, infiltrating the gem's conscious. Unable to think properly, Spinny glanced down to the sand, her lip trembling as she sniffled, tears dwelling in her eyes.

"No... Not again... Not again!"

Quickly, her breathing grew frantic, panic battling her system as she felt alone, abandoned, alienated! Through the white noise that plagued her hearing and mind, she heard a voice, her own voice, but she had no control over it. As the cogs in her mind began to rust, she could feel herself malfunctioning, breaking and cracking from reality.

'They left you!'

"No..." Spinny spat, whirling herself from left to right, trying to shake away the spiteful voice.

'Everyone hates you!'

'Who'd want to be friends with you? You're an emotional wreck! A pathetic mess! An unstable freak!'

"Stop it!"

'If these people even knew you they'd leave you too!'

'You're ruining this for everyone!'

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" Spinny whimpered, baring her teeth in agitation as she pulled down on her pigtails. "I'm doing the best I can!"

'If you were a good friend, maybe Pink would still be around!'

The confidence that had been gifted to her by Spinsy departed, now, Spinny couldn't help but feel lost. Stupid. Gullible. To think she could actually be a part of this future. She was right to think everyone hated her, even she did.

Wearing a haunted look, petrified in the eyes as she stood on the edge of terror, the erratic gem looked down to bow tie she was wearing and didn't waste another second. Furiously, her anxiety pushing her and controlling her movement, she crushed the tie and pulled it from her neck, harshly throwing it to the ground.

Undone and ruined, the bright red bow tie rested in the sand. Discarded.

A fire whirled inside her, causing ablaze, an eruption of uncertainty, horror and grief. For her, it was becoming difficult to breathe as her own voice played on a loop in her head, saying the same awful things again and again to no end! Her stress was demanding for a fight, her stomach twisting and turning like a hurricane!

Holding up her hands to her face, unable to remove the stains of guilt from them, she began to sob, "I can't do this! I can't do this!"

Clenching her teeth together in a panic, fear washing over her face, her gaze was the perfect example of someone who had been terrified. Swiftly swirling her head, looking for an opening to escape, Spinny didn't let another second go by as she ran into the crowd of people, slipping past everyone as she struggled to maintain her composure.

Although no one paid any attention to the distraught gem, only one had seen her running off until she was away from everyone's sight.

"Spinny?" Spinsy arched a brow, emerging from the dancing crowd.

Looking to the spot her sister had left, she knelt down and swooped up the ruined bow tie from the sand. As it rested in her hand, confusion and concern all rushed into her system.

For a moment, worriment crossing her expression, Spinsy remained calm and looked back up to the preoccupied group of people. Unable to locate Spinny at first glance, she broke away from her position and ran into the crowd of people without a second thought, searching for her sister.

...

After searching for quite a while, time began to melt and with no luck, Spinsy failed to find Spinny anywhere. It was almost as if she had disappeared. By the time she had reached the beach house, the tired gem rested her hands against her knees and regained her breath, spinning her head and surveying the area from the deck of the house.

"Oh come on, this shouldn't be hard. She looks exactly like me! Why can't I find her!" She said in between breaths.

Picking up the sound of footsteps rapidly pressing against the wooden planks of the stairs, Spinsy turned around and watched Steven approach her, looking saddened as he sighed.

"I'm sorry, Spinsy. I've looked just about everywhere and asked everyone, and nothing. Not even Garnet has seen her."

This time, it was her turn to sigh. As she slowly pushed the air from her mouth, the worried gem crossed her arms and turned to the ocean, letting her arms float down to the wooden handrails of the deck, leaning on it for support.

Unable to fight off the sadness contaminating her system, Spinsy's eyes helpless wandered up to the lonely moon that dwindled in the night sky.

"Where are you Spinny?"

Motivation sparking inside Steven, he approached the dejected gem and secured an arm around her shoulder, smiling, "Hey, don't worry. I'm sure she's still around. We'll find her."

"I know we'll find her, it's just..." Spinsy breathed, looking to the son of Rose Quartz with a guilty expression. "I can't help but feel like it's my fault for driving her away. She's been alone for so long, I thought a party would do her good, but clearly not."

"First I abandon her and now I probably made her feel scared or uncomfortable. Way to go me, right?" She mumbled with the roll of her eyes.

"You can't think like that, Spinsy," Steven said. "You organised something great here tonight and you wanted your sister to be a part of it. I know it wasn't your intentions to make her feel uncomfortable and it certainly isn't your fault that she ran off in such a hurry."

"But-"

"But nothing." He quickly interjected. "You've been a terrific friend to me, to Pearl, to Garnet, to Amethyst, to- to everyone! We know Spinny's been through a lot, but we promised we'd been there for her. We'll find her and we'll help her."

"You did all of this just to make a new start for her and if that doesn't scream: "Best Sister Ever!" I don't know what will," Steven chuckled.

Joining in on the laughter, Spinsy broke away from the handrail of the deck and smiled back at her friend, "Thanks, Steven. That really means a lot."

"I'm just speaking the truth." The hybrid gem confessed, scratching the back of his head as a sheepish smile grew.

"I just hope she understands that I wasn't trying to scare her," Spinsy softly spoke. "I mean, I just wanted us to have fun like we did back in the-"

When that one thought crashed down on her, the pink gem's eyes widened as the words on her tongue died. Like a computer, it almost appeared as if she had frozen.

"Spinsy, is everything okay?" Steven asked with a hint of concern.

Curling her hand into a fist and patting it against her hand, valiance dancing in her eyes, determination graced her words as she reclaimed her voice, "I know where she is!"

...

Instantaneously, a cylindrical beam of bright light materialized from the warp pad, producing a harmonic tune that would bathe anyone in comfort. But not Spinny, her tormented mind failed to pick up the sound due to the frightening thoughts exploding inside her head.

As the lustrous beam of light quickly faded, Spinsy had appeared on the crystalline platform. It hurt to set foot on this withering rock of a garden. However, much to her relief, sticking out like a sore thumb, she had found her other half.

In all her life, the troubled gem had never thought for a moment that she would wind up back in the same place she been abandoned.

Pink Diamond's garden.

Once a playground that radiated fun and peace now eroded into a decaying, lonely rock. Here, time had no concept, no meaning. Everything seemed so lifeless, colourless and meaningless. All pillars were crumbling, cracks swarmed the ground and the plants were dying. Here, everything was withering away.

This place brought back so many memories to the lonely gem, some of them were joyful while most of them were a nightmare to remember. Among the stars, who would have thought this joyful little playmate waited for her friends so faithfully. It hurt to remember.

In the centre of the garden, in the exact spot where she had waited for six thousand years, Spinny sat and hugged her knees, curling herself into a ball in hopes to contain the feeling of grief and sorrow that tried to claw free from her system. Inside her felt like a furnace, a fire that danced and tormented her soul for being so broken.

Silently, her puddled eyes dripped with tears, spilling down her face as she buried her head into her arms, desperately wanting to hide from the universe. The static in her head made it hard to think, she felt like a distressed child, an unwanted toy, a stranger to everyone and herself. Trembling, her lips sealed shut but failed to contain the whimpering and sniffling she was making.

How did this happen? Even she couldn't answer that. The walls of her confidence that had been provided by Spinsy, Steven, the Crystal Gems along with all the other friends she had built a connection to simply collapsed. She felt weak, exhausted and depressed.

For the first time, Spinny felt like she belonged here. Away from life. Alone.

Curled up into her own world of misery, putting her back to the warp pad, Spinny didn't hear the gentle footsteps coming from behind her. As if a building was being demolished, she could feel her strength deteriorating by the second. It hurt.

"Spinny."

Bringing her back to reality, the troubled gem snapped out of her state of grief as she heard a gentle, but frail voice reach to her. With a sniffle, she lifted her watery gaze and twisted her head in alarm as her eyes met her other half.

Not saying another word, Spinsy stood still like a statue, holding her own wrist and staring at the distressed gem with fear and sorrow clutching her pupils.

For a moment, the air was deathly still as if silence had just shattered along with everyone else in the garden.

Trying to stop her crying, the grieving gem couldn't help but feel ridiculous as she brought her arm to her face, wiping away the tears that lingered as she sniffled, "Oh, hey. I- I-"

Unable to properly grip her voice, Spinny just closed her mouth and gave up. Seeing this as her chance to help, Spinsy calmly approached the upset gem and let herself float to the ground, sitting next to her.

"Are you okay?" Although her voice was soft as a pillow, her expression screamed fright. "I saw you run off. What happened?"

Nothing but silence, unresponsive and still, Spinny simply let the tears drip from her face, refusing to acknowledge any of the questions that crossed her path.

This time, a sickening thought crossed Spinsy's mind as she dropped her mouth to unleash a gasp, but bringing her hand to secure it. Horrified at the thought, she spoke in a frail whisper as if she was trying to share a secret, "No one- no one hurt you, did they?"

"No," Spinny trembled out. "No one hurt me, I just- I just felt a bit sick, you know? That's all."

"Please don't do that."

At a loss, Spinny raised her head again, arching a brow and wearing only confusion on her expression.

"Please don't lie to me," Spinsy told, but still keeping her voice soft and encouraging.

Slowly, the grieving gem pivoted her head and sulked back into her arms, trying everything in her power to fight off the tears brewing in her eyes. Keeping her lips concealed, it looked as if she was trying to mentally stitch them shut. Her sister could tell it was obvious she didn't want to share whatever feelings enthralled her gem.

"I... I know it's hard to talk about these feelings, but you're not alone anymore. You can tell me."

Haltingly, her breathing began to quicken, a sign that panic and fear was gripping her neck and rattling her breath.

"I want to be there for you so please, talk to me." Her sister said assuringly.

As her spiky pigtails flopped down, unlocking a sigh of exhaustion, Spinny looked to the crumbling and dirty fountain with wide, puddled eyes. It took up all of her strength to open her mouth as if a million cogs began to turn inside her.

With her lip trembling, she finally forced out her words with a shaky voice that was tainted in dejection, "It doesn't feel like I left."

This time, it was Spinsy's turn to hike a brow. But despite her confusion, she remained silent and allowed Spinny to share her worries.

"No matter where I go or where I'm at, it always feels like a part of me is still intact with this place. For six thousand years, I never got used to the silence... I never got used to being so lonely, but now, ever since I've tried fitting in, there are these horrible thoughts that I can't control. Voices telling me I'm worthless, that I'm not good enough. Sometimes, it's my voice and that's when it becomes terrifying."

Pausing herself on and off, eyes welling with tears and stammering interfering with her speech. Brick by brick, the gem was falling apart, unable to contain her grief as her lips began to quiver while her breath trembled.

"I can't get it to stop!"

Watching her sister break down into tears pierced her with sympathy and heartache, Spinsy's face lifted with sorrow. Carrying her voice with a gentle tone, she brought up her gloved hands to ease her other half, murmuring, "Hey, hey, Spinny... It's okay. It's okay."

"No, it's not!" Spinny snapped, her glare forming like daggers and frustration taking control over her shouting. "It's anything but okay!"

Alarmed by her erratic change in emotion, dismay rattling her, Spinsy winced from her sister and proceeded to give her space. However, she watched as her heated glare burnt down into a look of regret and shame.

Sniffling, letting the pear-shaped tears slide down her cheeks, Spinny fought back the pain and whimpered, "I tried to kill Steven, I tried to destroy all life on Earth, I wanted to hurt you, to make you share my pain, hoping you'd suffer like I did and now I'm invited to a party where I have to dance and cheer with the people I nearly killed. It feels like everyone's wearing a mask, like they're trying to force a smile around me as if I did nothing wrong. I should just stay here, this is where they'd want me."

"They're not like that, I assure you," Spinsy assured. "The people of Beach City, they... They're special to us. They've learnt a lot from us and we've learnt a lot from them. They're kind and accepting."

"So they're all like Steven?" Spinny responded with a grumble, rolling her eyes. "Do you wanna know why he infuriates me so much? Why I find it so difficult to talk to him?

As much as she tried to hold it in, the pain in her voice seeped through as she stared back at her other half, "Pink... Whenever I'm near him, I can't get over how much I miss her."

Fighting back the grief that caged her, the hurt gem carried on, regaining her breath with a shudder, "But then I get to remember how she avoided me. How she hated me... How she abandoned me... and then I get to feel the resentment for her. All. Over. Again."

"For six thousand years, I didn't move!" She began to weep, clenching her teeth in aggravation. "I didn't do anything because I trusted her! Because I thought she'd actually come back for me!"

"I just wish I could have found out what was wrong with me sooner before she threw me away. What I could have done better. What I could have done to be more like you," Spinny whispered to herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and sinking back down into a pit of depression.

Sadness and shock played around with Spinsy's feelings while her eyes shifted downwards for a moment, becoming glazed with a crystal layer of tears. Hearing out all of her sister's troubles upset her deeply, but this is just what she needed to help. To talk.

"No, no, Spinny, there's nothing wrong with you, there was never anything wrong with you to begin with." She cooed.

"But Pink-"

"Look," Spinsy interjected, gently reaching for her sister's hand.

Confused, feeling the warmth of her other half's touch, she watched as Spinsy's gloves wrapped around her own, lightly holding them. Slowly, she watched as her sister began to ascend from the ground and without realising it, she had joined in on the motion. Now on her feet, Spinny didn't squirm or struggle, she allowed her twin to gently hold her hands.

"Pink may have been our Diamond, but that doesn't mean she knew everything, nor did she know what was best. She was foolish to leave you here and I'm no better for blindly following her," Spinsy said, averting her gaze in shame and guilt.

"I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye, I thought that saying nothing would have made it easier for you, but it was wrong and selfish of me to make that call."

It didn't take long for Spinsy to work up the courage to face her again, it sparked in her like a lighter as she continued, "If it's anything, Pink was the one that needed changing, not you. If she couldn't appreciate you for who were then or who you are now, then that was her problem. Not yours."

"Deep down, I know you're gonna do great in Beach City. There are so many people just waiting to be friends with you, even if they don't know it! You're destined for greatness and best of all, I'm gonna be there, by your side! Catching every bit of the joy you'll be spreading!" The smaller gem told, bubbling with delight as she slowly released her grip from Spinny.

Upon releasing her sister hands' Spinsy stared at her with confidence and glee lifting a smile.

Trembling, Spinny's lips began to curl upwards, although, her eyes gleamed with tears. Nochanataly, she took a step forward and wrapped her arms her other half, bringing her into a hug. Spinsy, of course, was caught by surprise, feeling her sister's face plant into her shoulder, softly crying into her.

Growing a small smile, gently dropping her eyes shut, Spinsy returned the embrace and allowed her voice to retreat to its light, airy tone, "Shh... It's okay," She whispered as if she was a mother trying to ease her child. "No one ever said fitting in would be easy, but you've made a perfect start. With me, with Steven, with the Crystal Gems. We're your family now and we always will be. We're never going to leave you, no matter what."

In tears of delight, working up a smile, Spinny unlocked her arms for her sister and stepped back, responding with a sniffle, "I believe you, you know why?"

"Why?" Spinsy tilted her head with the pair of heart-shaped buns styled on her hair following in sync.

"Because... The moment I started telling you how I feel... It's been quiet... No horrible thoughts, no voices. I feel like... Me again."

"See! Things are startin' to look better already!" She cheered. "I know it wasn't easy, but... Thanks for talking to me."

"Thanks for listening," Spinny responded shyly.

Rubbing the back of her head and constructing a smirk, Spinsy rolled her eyes and spoke in a tune, "You know, I'm sure the party still happening back on Earth. Do you wanna join in? I mean, that's if you want to, of course. We can do something else if you'd like-"

Pinching up her smile, Spinny answered, "I think I'd like to join in on that dance. Whadda ya say?"

For a moment, stunned with joy, the smaller gem nodded her head in excitement, "You betcha!" She grinned, but quickly exclaiming, "Oh! Before we go, I need to give you this."

Unexpectedly, Spinny watched as her sister stretched her arms to her neck, gently fastening something around her. Hiking a brow and adjusting her head upwards, the gem's magenta eyes sprung downwards the moment Spinsy's arms retracted back to her side.

Around her neck, she could make out the big red bow tie she had discarded. Elation taking control of her expression, Spinny lightly pressed her hands against the bow tie and regained her smile.

"Thank you."

...

In the crystal-domed conservatory, the cylindrical beam of bright light raced down from the depths of space, producing its angelic tune as the twins teleported back onto the warp pad. Spinsy and Spinny stood next to each other, side by side as if they were looking into a mirror, sharing a smile as they could hear distant music, laughter, cheering and it all felt different to Spinny. She didn't feel frightened by it, it didn't alarm her or anything of the sort. In fact, she shared the same delight her sister did.

"Hey!" A voice called from the entrance of the conservatory.

Whipping their heads to the door, the twins watched as Steven raced towards them, "There you two are! Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine now, Steven," Spinsy eased with the swipe of her hand.

Pushing out a sigh of relief, the hybrid gem rubbed his arm and spoke, "Great! Uh, hey... Spinny. Look, sorry if I pressured you into coming here tonight, I just thought-"

"Ah, you've got nothing to apologise for, Universe," Spinny interjected with the sway of her hand. "Let's just have fun tonight, like friends."

Blinking in response, Steven found himself in awe, he couldn't recall a moment where Spinsy's twin had spoken to him with such ease and confidence. Nevertheless, he chuckled, "Yeah, sounds great. You know, that dance contest is still going on, you two still up for it?"

As Spinsy whirled her head to her sister, she waited for her to answer.

No longer frightened, feeling nothing but serenity fill her system, she spoke softly and answered, "I think I'd like that."

#Heart AU #heart au writing #spinel #steven universe #fanfic

94 notes · View notes

antoine-roquentin · 5 years ago

Link

I think one of the major problems with the modern left is a focus on cultural analysis instead of economics. When I say culture I EXPLICITLY DON'T MEAN racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, and Indigenous rights/decolonization.

Stupidpol and their ilk are reactionaries and should be treated as such. What I'm talking about is the focus on things like analyzing TV shows or picking over the latest issues of the NYT op-ed column, the sort a caricatures you see on Chapo.

Zizek is emblematic of this syndrome. He's a theorist of ideology, a film critic, a Lacanian psychoanalyst and complete reactionary on gender and immigration issues, and he's widely considered to be one of preeminent Marxist scholars alive. And, and this is important, Zizek does fuck all actual economic material analysis. Mark Fisher, who was an excellent Marxist theorist, covers almost exactly the same ground from a different perspective, and you can repeat this across academia.

Inside academia the problem has gotten so bad that the best economic analysis is being carried out by the fucking post-humanists. Take, for example, Anna Tsing's excellent Supply Chains and the Human Condition. Tsing is a brilliant theorist but she spends most of her time writing about multi-species interactions between humans and mushrooms. Carbon Democracy, one of the best theories of the carbon economy ever written, is by a left-Foucaldian.

There are some exceptions to this, Andreas Malm's Carbon Capital is wonderful, Riot Strike Riot is great and I have to mention the group I call The Other Chicago School, Endnotes, whose infrequent analysis is a breath of fresh air. But Endnotes isn't particularly well read even inside the academy, which takes back outside the ivory tower in the dismal mess that is what passes for popular left "economics."

I want to go back to Occupy for a second because what happened there is indicative of the problem. Occupy, at least technically, actually had a theory of economics that went beyond "neoliberalism bad, welfare state good." And it's really not as bad as its critics have since accused it of being. Graeber's "the 1% meme" was supposed to be part of an MMT analysis of the ability of banks to create money out of nothing, see Richard A. Werner. The theory then goes with the ability to create money out of nothing the question becomes who should actually have that power. The 1% are the people who control that power and use that it to gain wealth and their wealth to gain power.

This is essentially what happened after 2008 and it relates to an entire analysis of the politics of debt and war that's captured really well in the last chapter of Debt, The First 5000 Years, drawing from Hudson's excellent Super Imperialism. Again, not bad, and not the disaster it became in Liberal hands. But note two things:

1, His work is intentionally detached from the production process- Graeber uses a value theory of labor about the social reproduction of human beings. That theory is really interesting and I'll leave a link to his It is Value that Brings Universes into Being here. But Graeber is an anthropologist, not an economist, and his recent work is mostly composed of a set of theories of bureaucracy.

And, don't get me wrong, I really like Utopia of Rules and Bullshit Jobs, and it's possible to build an economic theory out of them, but almost no one actually does. And this gets us back to my second point about Occupy and economics.

2, Not a single other person I have ever met, including people who were in Occupy, have ever actually heard the theory behind the 1%. Part of this has to do with Graeber’s rather admirable desire to not become an intellectual vanguardist. But, I cannot overemphasize how much of this is a result of the left's retreat into an analysis of consumerism instead of capitalism and its further insistence that the entire fucking global economy can be explained by chapters 1-3 of Capital and this just isn't a "read more theory" rant, it's not like reading the rest of Capital is going to help you here. But even that's better than what's actually happened, which is people reading Imperialism, the Highest Stage of Capitalism and the Communist Manifesto and trying to derive economic theory from that, or getting lost in a Gramscian or psychoanalytic miasma trying to explain why revolution didn't happen. But we can't keep fucking doing this.

If we do we're just going to keep getting stuck in endless fucking inane arguments, one of which is about which countries are Imperialist or not based on trying to read the minds of world leaders, and the other of which is a bunch of racists trying to argue that they're actually "class-first" Marxists and that if we don't say slurs and be mean to disabled people we're going to lose the "real working class," which is somehow composed only of construction workers banging steel bars.

So let's stop letting them do that. One of the reasons Supply Chains and the Human Condition is so great is that it describes how the performance of gender and racial roles creates the self super-exploitation at the heart of global capitalism. Race and gender cannot be ignored in favor of some kind of "class-first" faux-leftist bullshit. THEY ARE LITERALLY THE DRIVER OF CAPITAL ACCUMULATION.

Most of the global supply chain has been transformed into entrepreneurs and wannabe entrepreneurs (see the countless accounts of Chinese garment factory workers who dream of getting into the fashion industry and who attempt to supplement their meager income by setting up stalls in local marketplaces to sell watches and clothes).

The fact that global supply chains have reverted to the kind of small family firms that Marx and Engels thought would disappear is a MASSIVE problem for any kind of global workers movement, because it means that the normal wage relation that is supposed to form the basis of the proletariat isn't actually the governing social experience of a large swath of what should be the proletariat, either because they're the owners of small firms contracted by larger firms like Nike who would, in an older period of capitalism, have just been workers or because the people who work for those firms are incapable of actually demanding wage increases from the capitalists because they're separated by a layer from the firms who control real capital, and thus are essentially unable to make the kind of wage demands that would normally constitute class consciousness because the contractors they work for really don't have any money. These contractors are in no way independent.

Multinational corporations set everything from their buying prices to their labor conditions to what their workers say to lie to labor inspectors. The effect of replacing much of the proletariat with micro-entrepreneurs is devastating.

The class-for-itself that's supposed to serve as the basis of social revolution has decomposed entirely. Endnotes has a great analysis of how this happened covering more time, but the unified working class is dead. In its place have come a series of incoherent struggles: The Arab Spring, the Movement of the Squares, the current wave of revolutions and riots stretching from Sudan to Peru to Puerto Rico- all of them share an economic basis translated into demands on the state. We see housing struggles, anti-police riots, occupations, climate strikes, and a thousand other forms of struggle that don't seem to cohere into a traditional social revolution and WE HAVE NO ANSWER.

I don't have one either, but we're not going to get out of this mess by trying to read the tea leaves of the CCP or analyzing how Endgame is the ruling class inculcating us into accepting Malthusian Ecofascism.

I want to emphasize YOU DON'T NEED TO SHARE MY ECONOMIC ANALYSIS to develop one, I'm obviously wrong on a lot of things and so is everyone else. The point is that we need to start somewhere.

There are other benefits to reading economics stuff even if it can be boring sometimes, like being able to dunk on nerd shitlibs and reactionaries who do the "take Econ-101" meme by being able to prove that their entire discipline is bunk. Steve Keen's Debunking Economics is absolutely hilarious for this, he literally proves that perfect competition relies on the same math that you use to "prove" that the earth is flat.

Or learning that the notion that markets distribute goods optimally is based on the assumption that what is basically a form of fucking state socialism exists, and that the supply demand curve is fucking bullshit. Here's a page from Debunking Economics looking at the socialism claim, it fucking rules, and it's the result of the fact that neo-classical economics and central planning were developed together. Kantorovich and Koopmans shared a Nobel Prize.

But wait, there's more! We can PROVE that THE MARKET PLACE OF IDEAS DOESN'T EXIST. Do you have any idea how hard you can own libs with facts and logic if you can demonstrate that THE MARKET PLACE OF IDEAS DOESN'T EXIST?

But seriously, if you go outside of the Marxist tradition there are all sorts of fun and useful things you can find in post-Keyensian circles and so on and so forth. I'm a huge fan of Karen Ho's Liquidated, an Ethnography of Wall Street/Liquidated_%20An%20Ethnography%20of%20Wall%20Street%20-%20Karen%20Ho.pdf) which looks at how the people at banks and investment firms actually behave and, oh boy, is it bad news (they're literally incapable of making long-term decisions which is wonderful in the face of climate change).

Oh, and also, all of the bankers are essentially indoctrinated into thinking they're the smartest people in the world, so that's fun.

This may sound like I'm shitting on Marxism, and I sort of am, but there's Marxist stuff coming out that I absolutely love! @chuangcn is a good example of what I think the benchmark for leftist economics and historical analysis should be.

Chuang responded to the call put out by Endnotes to cut "The Red Thread of History," or essentially to stop fucking arguing about 1917, 1936, 1968 and so forth and look at material conditions instead of trying to find our favorite faction and accuse literally everyone else of betraying the revolution, and then imagining what we would have done in their shoes. The present is different from the past and we need to organize for this economic and social reality, not 1917's.

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EBvBIVhXYAYlVfj.png

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EBvBM3CXoAA7Qmx.jpg

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EBvBP0SWkAEl6OX.jpg

Chuang produced an incredibly statically and sociologically detailed account of the Chinese socialist period in issue 1 and the transition to capitalism in the soon to be put online issue 2 that focuses on shifts in production and investment and shifts in China's class-structure and how urban workers, peasants, factory mangers, technicians, and cadre members reacted to those movements and shaped each others decisions and mobilizations. They largely avoid discussions of factional battles of the upper level of the CCP, which dominate liberal and communist accounts of the period and produce, in supposed communists from David Harvey to Ajit Singh, a Great Man theory of history.

Instead, they trace how strikes and peasant protests shaped the CCP's decision making and how the choices of people like Mao and Deng Xiaoping were limited by material conditions, in this case by their production bottleneck.

What's great about Chuang is that their work is so rich in sociological detail that you don't need to agree with them at all about what communism is and so on for their account to be useful, and they force us to think about the world from the perspective of competing classes bound by economic reality, instead of the black-and-white "good state/bad state," "good ruler/bad ruler," discourse that dominates our understanding of both imperialism and the global economy.

I'm just going to end this with a TL;DR: Cut the read thread of history and stop fucking arguing about 1917, use economic theory to dunk on Stupidpol and shitlibs. When you talk about "material conditions" talk about the production process, supply chains, capital movements and so on, not which states are good and bad (the bourgeoisie is a global class friends), recognize that strategies need to be built around current economic and social conditions, WHICH ARE INSEPARABLE FROM RACE AND GENDER, climate change is more complicated than the 100 companies meme (I only touched on this but please read Fossil Capital and Carbon Democracy), and in general try to learn more about different schools of economics and social theory, I swear reading something that wasn't written in 1848 isn't going to kill you.

599 notes · View notes

polandspringz · 5 years ago

Text

RWBY Actually Has Good Writing: A Thematic Analysis

I may be a stickler for desiring more Ozpin content, and occasionally I do feed into RWDE posting when I get caught up in some of the more negative opinions, but RWBY’s writing really isn’t as atrocious as people are making it out to be, and after Ozpin’s speech this volume, I thought about highlighting why. One of the key points in this is Ironwood’s character, as many people who defend him have said his character has been destroyed by the writing and people against his actions have said the opposite, that he’s always been an irredeemable dictator. This split also applies to those who side with Ozpin or Team RWBY, in the now overdone debates about whether Ozpin was justified in lying and so forth. Something that has really frustrated me is the ignorance people seem to be showing in regards to how characters are supposed to be characters, and are supposed to do bad things or make mistakes for the sake of the narrative. We all knew Ironwood was going to turn for the worse this volume, although we were happy to see him resist it for the majority of it. However, while he may be making horrible decisions that are jeopardizing the safety of the kingdom, does that make him inherently an evil character?

“But fear itself isn’t worthy of concern. Its is who we become while in its clutches. Will you be proud of that person? Will you forgive them? Will you understand why they felt the need to do the things they did? Will you even recognize them? Or will the person staring back at you be the very thing you should have feared from the start? I suppose we all find out, sooner or later.”

There is a difference between an antagonist and a villain. Ironwood is definitely not a villain, and the same goes for Ozpin. They don’t have evil motivations, they are not trying to completely destroy the world like Salem is. They have caused problems for the protagonists, yes, but they are not the villain of the series. Ironwood has only been the antagonist for this Atlas arc, like how Roman was for the first three volumes. The reason they have transformed into these roadblocks though, in the words of Ozpin, is because of fear, and this is something that RWBY has never failed to deliver on, and in fact has been building up this theme beautifully since its world-building in the first volume, because...

The Grimm are attracted to fear. Plain and simple, that is one of the first concepts we are introduced to. The heroes fear failing in their respective paths, although that’s a constant fear in any story set in an action-adventure like this. Ironwood fears Salem like everyone else, but his fear also stems from more than just being annihilated or killed. His fear stems from a lack of power. We know this because of his speech to Oscar in the vault earlier in volume 7, how he felt small and powerless when Salem took control at the Vytal Festival, when the Queen piece was placed on his desk again, he snapped because he feared that he had already been usurped and lost the upper hand. He lost his leverage and power over Salem’s forces. Now, RWBY may be in a fantasy world, but because of its trope heavy nature, it is not a stretch to say that Ironwood’s fear of Salem having power over him could also be gender motivated.

I first thought about this in regards to Ernest Hemingway’s works. The Sun Also Rises, in particular, but any of his works have a similar theme of war and masculinity. In The Sun Also Rises, the main character is made impotent because of an injury in war, and the long and short of that is whole theme coming to fruition is that war is emasculating because there was no story-book manly victory in war. War is fearful and terrifying. Additionally, the main female character in the book is shaped by her masculine appearance (due to the trends at the time of the 20s) and her personality and lack of stereotypical femininity leaves no place for the men to need to behave stereotypically masculine, but with those two forces emasculating them, what are they left with to be men with?

It’s not nice to think that sexism exists in a fantasy world, but because RWBY by nature has always has such an emphasis on girlhood and women, from the main characters being a group of girls to the villain being a woman, it is very interesting to have a theme of sexism be so subtle. Because RWBY isn’t about sexism, if anything, it’s about women being able to carry on where men couldn’t, being able to move forward and be stronger then men in all different ways. If we look at Ironwood in this case, he is a man of war and military, but he is already in a way emasculated by his previous injuries, (although he may have the same strength with the robotic prosthetics, that did not happen overnight, that was still likely a shocking injury), and now with the other destroyed arm, he is weaker once more, at the most crucial time too. His allusion to the tinman though, of not having a heart and being stone cold, that removes typical features of femininity in an effort to be more mature and masculine. When Salem comes and he devolves into fear, he reverts to that coldness for more than the sake of allusion. He is doing it to find strength in the fear, but it is making him fall. But besides all of this, at his core, Ironwood is a military man, and stereotypically, men are in control in the military and government, women are not.

But what about Winter? Well, very simply, she is a subordinate to Ironwood. She doesn’t have power over him. What about Cordovin? She’s not a member of the military, but Ironwood still is of higher rank than her and she’s not a part of his arc. What I’m really getting at here is that there is an indication that part of Ironwood’s fear and desperation to fight Salem might be motivated by sexism and this fear of emasculation. His main motivation might be to stop her out of fear that she will destroy humanity, but subconsciously, there is more bothering him about that Queen symbol that the show doesn’t need to explore because it is crafted in there so perfectly that it doesn’t need an obvious scene of characters explicitly telling us this. The only person who was ever above Ironwood was Ozpin, another man, and while Ozpin can be said to have more feminine traits in his softer and more compassionate approach in volumes 1-3, he was still a man, so for Ironwood, it’s excusable.

So where does this leave us? Well, this sort of theme about gender in the show isn’t likely going away, as it is probably going to be how the Atlas arc closes. Ironwood is going to fail, and Team RWBY is going to have to pick up the pieces. We’ve seen this before in almost every dynamic between a female or a male character in the show. It happens even when Ozpin is exposed for lying. He is revealed to have messed up, he fails and hides away. Team RWBY keeps moving on though, they push on to Atlas with the relic despite Ozpin’s failure. Qrow keeps stumbling through life, falling back into depression and alcoholism, but Ruby and Yang just push past it and keep going, they do not let it drag them down. When Raven left, Taiyang was hurt, but Summer entered the picture and helped him, and then when Summer left, Taiyang was so broken, and it was up to Yang to pick up the pieces and raise Ruby. This isn’t to say the girls in this show are fixing the men, but rather they are stronger and more able to fix what the men could not.

There are some interesting cases though where we see more of this divide between the men and the women in terms of their power and ability to control the situation though. With Adam especially, he was unable to move on from Blake and chased after her. Blake was able to move on for a while, but Adam was the one dragging her down (with fear). She was able to free herself with the help of the other female characters in the show. The White Fang had good leadership under Sienna, but when Adam killed her and took over, he failed and the organization continued to collapse, now Blake and Illia are picking up the pieces and pushing forward. Even with Salem, Ozma’s failure was dying to a simple illness. She perhaps could have learned to move on if the Gods hadn’t granted her immortality and cursed her. She had no power over them even when she tried to attack them with her magic the first time. They made the decision to punish her in that way, to knock her down because she tried to hold power over them, but that caused her to move forward in a different direction (maybe not necessarily towards the light/good, but she kept moving forward while the Gods abandoned the planet).

To finish up though, I wanted to touch upon Oscar, Ren, and Jaune because now we have the question- well why haven’t they failed? Well, they have, and the women of the show have moved past their failures too, but they are characters with more feminine traits, which is what gives them power over the men in the show like Ironwood and Qrow who continue to stumble and fall. Jaune and Pyrrha- Jaune’s failures are the entirety of the Beacon arc, his semblance issues, his lack of combat training, Pyrrha does try and help him, and their bond in a way does contribute to Pyrrha’s death in the narrative, plus it leaves an impact on Jaune as one of his failures. However, he’s managed to get stronger since then, but he’s not the main character, Ruby is. And as such, during much of Volume 4 Ruby was the real leader of the group and Jaune did not mind it. Ren’s closed off nature is being more explored currently and will continue to be explored in the coming volume it seems, but we’ve seen how he’s damaged his bonds with Nora because he’s trying not to fall. He is viewing his closeness to Nora and sensitivity as a weakness, which is why he falls when he bottles it up and cries when Neo disguises herself as Nora. He needs to learn to accept that part of himself to stop himself from falling. And in Oscar’s case, he is tied to Ozpin, so starting with what happened with Jinn and everyone turning their back on him is a part o Ozpin’s failure, not really his. However, there were a few posts discussing how Ruby was somewhat of Oscar’s mentor in Ozpin’s absence, and that has had an effect on Oscar character too. But, even if Oscar learns how to not fail and not give in to fear, he is not the main character, so he will likely still stumble and will not be the one to get the final hit in, because Ruby is the protagonist. That isn’t to say his character won’t be reconciled, it will be. His arc will be completed and he won’t stumble when the time comes to defeat Salem, but he won’t be able to do it alone, because the show’s themes and its direction hinges on having our hero be the one to do that. And the hero is Ruby and she’s a girl with the most iconic, simplest depictions of femininity in her willingness to embrace her emotions and her strength to keep moving forward where the men fall to their knees.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #oscar pine #ozpin #ruby rose #general james ironwood #ironwood #qrow branwen #lie ren #nora valkyrie #ozma #this is a big mess but lol i dont feel like typing anymore

87 notes · View notes

littlemisssquiggles · 4 years ago

Text

Little Red Headcanons: Ruby the Saviour of Humanity

crystalandbrass asked

“Hey long time no speak so I have two theories on RWBY I want to run by you the first is the lamp, I feel it functions like the old 'Be careful how you word your wish' essentially you have to be spercific with what you ask as Ozpin only asked 'How do I kill Salem?' Djinn obviously said there was no way because Salem is immortal, however if Ozpin asked 'How do I defeat Salem?' Djinn might have given up how to undo Salem's immorttality. What do you think? I will give the 2nd one later”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Squiggles Answers:

@crystalandbrass

Hey Crystal, what’s up? Apologies for the late response but I hope you’ve been doing well in these trying times, fam. To answer your question, that’s an interesting way to look at it. I agree with your point about Jinn answering questions according to their wording but I’d like to add an additional hunch that I think the results are also dependent on the person asking the questions.

During his lifetime with Norman, Ozma asked Jinn how “he” could destroy Salem. Only for Jinn to answer that “he” couldn’t. For me, I took that as Jinn indicating that Ozma wasn’t the one destined to stop Salem once and for all. It doesn’t necessarily mean that destroying Salem isn’t possible. Ozma (and by extension, the Wizards of Light following in his lineage) just wasn’t the one meant to do so. He had his own part to play in this ongoing fight for the fate of humanity.

I’d like to stand by the concept that there is someone in Remnant who destined to stop Salem.

I also believe that the key to stopping Salem for good isn’t through destroying her either. Yes she needs to be stopped, but I don’t think her fate is to die by the hands of her chosen adversary but rather the way the Gods intended for her to die.

It’s for this reason I like the theory that was eluded by Nora in V7CH6 during her conversation with Ruby.

“…We’ve spent so much time worrying about how Ironwood would react to the truth about her; but has any of us considered how we’re even going to beat her if we managed to work past that?”

“Jinn said she can’t be beaten.”

“She told Oz that he couldn’t destroy her.”

“…But…maybe someone else could?”

“…I don’t know.”

A part of me thinks that if someone were to ask Jinn the question of “Who can stop Salem?” then I believe her answer might be a bit more hopeful as she reveals the identity of humanity’s true saviour against the plight of Salem. In the Lost Fable, Jinn did say that in time Salem would’ve ultimately met her adversary. During the events of that episode, us as viewers were led to believe that that person would be Ozma.

However now that I think about it---despite creating Salem and resurrecting the soul of her former beloved, the Brother Gods NEVER really tasked Ozma with stopping Salem. All the God of Light told Ozma to focus on was figuring out a way to unite humanity as a means of recreating the world that they once had---that he once knew. A world where humanity was made whole again with the return of the Gods and their magic to live among the People of Remnant again. Now that I think about it, the God of Light warned Ozma to not pursue Salem as he more desired for him to focus on avoiding the inevitable Judgement Day and the end of the world should he fail in bringing the people together.

From the start, the purpose of Ozma and the Wizards of Light was always to see to humanity’s preservation by uniting them for it is only in harmony shall they be saved and spared the wrath of the Gods should they be summoned back to Second Remnant.

From what I gathered from the Lost Fable, First Remnant was a time when mankind more or less lived in commune with not just each other but also the Brothers. However that changed after Salem rallied all the leaders of the First People of Remnant and turned them against the Gods thus leading to their mass genocide by the God of Darkness.

You can say that from the beginning, Salem has been a figure of conflict--- dividing humanity--- turning them against one another as a means of only fulfilling her own selfish desires.

From the get-go, Salem has been a source of manipulation and division. This was not only evidenced by her turning the People of Remnant against the Gods but her first attempt was done even before that when she dared turn the Brothers against one another after manipulating Darkness into resurrecting Ozma against his brother’s wishes and prior knowledge.

Salem was only cursed because she refused to see the value in human life beyond herself and sadly to say, even after living on Remnant for over thousands of years; she still only views mankind as nothing less to her than mere pawns to achieve her goals. She even came to see her own beloved Ozma as the very same thing---an obstacle against her retaining her sense of freedom.

“…We finally have freedom!”

I know other RWBY fans have pegged Salem to be nothing more than an irredeemable villain and character; however I think the opposite. Ultimately, I think Salem’s fate is to die after finally learning the lesson the God of Light tried to get her to see. Believe it or not, I’m actually an advocate for Salem getting redeemed at some point for the future of RWBY.

While Salem has been shown to be selfish and manipulative, she’s also expressed a softer, more compassionate side to her as well; as evidenced by her love and determination for Ozma and even their children during Ozma’s second lifetime as Diggs.

I’d even go as far as to say that there is a slight, almost parental approach to Salem’s mentor and apprentice relationship with Cinder Fall; if that makes sense. Again, while I understand that Salem is a villain, there are qualities about her that has convinced me that she can be redeemed and ultimately will be saved since that’s how I think her story will end based on elements from the Lost Fable.

I think Salem is the way she is, not so much due to her corruption from her baptism in the Grimm Pools of Darkness but more so as a result of her past and upbringing; being locked away in isolation for so long---having her own freedom stripped away away from her at an adolescent age by the acts of her cruel father.

Going back to your question on the lamp---I think what needs to happen next is either for someone to ask Jinn for the identity of the person destined to bring forth Salem’s end. Or for that person to ask Jinn that question herself.

Since V6, I can’t help but feel like the show is slowly starting to pave the reveal that Ruby Rose will be the one to stop Salem. NOT destroy her or kill her. But more or less guide her back to the light after the former lonely princess had submerged herself in darkness for so long; thus transforming herself into the wicked witch we knew her to be.

I feel like Ruby has the potential of being placed in a similar tricky scenario that Aang from Avatar: The Last Airbender faced during his final confrontation with Fire Lord Ozai.

Much like Aang, this squiggle meister believes that Ruby will be the one to stop Salem but she’ll be torn over the thought of actually killing her if she were to discover to possess that kind of power.

I’m not saying I’m expecting Ruby to talk Salem out of being evil.

I’m more in favour of my Little Red Ruby headcanon of Ruby’s silver eyes being a remnant of the God of Light’s Fountain of Light and Creation that was introduced during the events of the Lost Fable. We’ve already met Ozma---the First Wizard of Light tasked by the God of Light and blessed with his power to unite the people of Remnant to avoid its destruction should Judgement Day come.

Now what I need to know is the origins of the Silver Eyes. I want to know who the First Silver Eyed Warrior to walk Remnant was since I believe that their beginning is connected to the Fountain of Life and Creation. Much like the Grimm Pools, the Fountain of Life and Creation once belonged to a God and thus harbours some semblance of his power.

This is how I think Salem is able to command the Creatures of Grimm. It was the God of Darkness who first made the Grimm, correct? Therefore since his pool was connected to him, by baptising herself in said pool that once belonged to a God, Salem gained powers akin to the God of Darkness---at least in respect to the ability to command the Grimm and even create her own Grimm monstrosities.

While the God of Darkness’ Grimm Pools survived the test of time, the Fountain of Life and Creation seemed to have been destroyed during the meteor shower sparked by the God of Darkness destroying part of the moon. Since World of Remnant described man being born from dust; my assumption is that the Silver Eyed Warriors are the remnants of the Fountain.

Therefore, the Silver Eyed Warriors are the living embodiment of the Fountain of Life and Creation. This, by my understanding, is how the Silver Eyed Warriors are connected to the God of Light. Just like the Wizards of Light in Ozma’s lineage, the Silver Eyes possess a portion of Light’s power running through their veins.

In the Lost Fable, it was shown that the God of Light cursed Salem with immortality by dropping her into his Fountain. If the Silver Eyes were ‘born’ from the Fountain then a Silver Eyed Warrior may be the only being that can actually harm Salem or even stop her.

Hence Ruby’s importance as she is currently the last living Silver Eye, according to the main series narrative. I remember reading somewhere about a theory someone had shared about the markings on Salem’s body---the weird blood-coloured scars that resemble veins---someone made theory that those markings may have come from Silver Eyed Warriors that Salem killed in the past.

I actually quite like this theory and I’d like to add my own spin on it.

In V4, Arthur Watts alluded to Salem and her minions dealing with Silver Eyes in the past and this point was confirmed in later iterations such as V6CH7 with Tock and her pawns targeting a young Maria Calavera in her prime and even the Warrior from the Warrior in the Woods tale in the upcoming Fairy Tales From Remnant.

So it’s my understanding that Salem and her pawns have been ruthlessly hunting and killing the Silver Eyes for many generations due to their unique ability to stop the Grimm.

But here’s what I think. What if…Salem’s scars were as a result on an encounter with ONE Silver Eyed Warrior and not as a result of her dealing with many over the years?

Despite hunting their kind for so long, what if…there has only been one Silver Eyed Warrior who has come close to even touching Salem and those scars are the lasting impression that that particular Silver Eye left on Salem as a relic of what that power can actually do to her.

What if… Salem got her scars from Summer Rose?

Even though Salem succeeded in killing Summer (as alluded to in V7CH10), what if…another Summer Rose secret is the revelation of the way to stop Salem---a feat that Summer left in the hands of her daughter.

I know this is only a hunch but I really do like the thought of Summer Rose being the one who inflicted those types of wounds on Salem, revealing the witch’s own fallibility in a sense. It’s not a bad concept but for now it’s just another one for the table of possibilities.

Another Salem-inspired RWBY headcanon of mine is that the Silver Eye power will actually purify Salem of the effects of the Grimm Pools, thus severing her connection to the Grimm. What I find unique about Salem is that she is a being who has been touched by both light and darkness. Light made her immortal while Darkness gave her reign over the Creatures of Grimm.

If my hunch about the silver eyes being a remnant of the Fountain of Life and Creation is correct then Salem being hit with the power of a Silver Eyed Warrior on full blast; as displayed by Ruby Rose during the Fall of Beacon, might be what finally ‘kills’ the Wicked Witch of the West.

For me, I really like the concept of Ruby’s power cleansing Salem of the effects of the Grimm pools that corrupted her for so many years; reverting the immortal woman back to her original ‘lonely princess’ form from the Lost Fable.

Since the Grimm Pools hypothetically granted Salem the power to control the Grimm, then hypothetically the Silver Eyes---a power born from the Fountain of Light and Creation that negates darkness--- could potentially Salem’s connection to the pools thus severing her connection to the Grimm. Therefore Salem will no longer be able to command the Grimm. I think that a huge part of Salem being a threat to humanity stemmed from her sovereignty over the Grimm. She was even described as being their leader by Raven Branwen during V5.

“…I know the Grimm have a leader…”

That being said, if Salem’s power over the Grimm is taken away---if Salem is changed back to her former self then she’ll no longer be that big of a threat anymore because the thing that gave her reign will be gone for good. Salem the Lonely Princess may return but the Salem the Wicked Witch would be gone for good. Therefore---DING! DONG! The Wicked Witch whose ancient presence haunted Remnant for years will finally be dead!

As for the fate of the original Salem, I’m still sticking to my guns on her receiving a redemption arc since according to the Lost Fable, Salem learning the error of her ways is the only way for her to lift her curse; allowing her to finally die peacefully.

The God of Light said just that. In the Lost Fable, the Brother Gods told Salem that the only way for her to reverse her curse is to learn how to value life.

“…When you first came to me, I did pity you. But it is clear now that your selfishness and arrogance have led you astray.”

“What did you do to me?”

“I have made you immortal.”

“Immortal?”

“You cannot die. You cannot be with your beloved.”

“So long as this world turns, you shall walk its face.”

“You must learn the importance of life and death. Only then may you rest.”

That is a lesson that Salem still has to learn and it honestly won’t surprise me if her story wouldn’t officially conclude until she realises the very message the Brother Gods tried to impart on her. That’s my deduction with that.

So to conclude and reiterate my answer to your question---I’d like to think that the final question of the Lamp of Knowledge will definitely be asked by Ruby. Her brief moment with Jinn from the V6 finale where Jinn warned her about summoning her without a question makes me believe that we will get a call-back to this at some point later in the story (hopefully).

Y’know what’s funny? I think in some odd way, Ruby already knows or has somehow figured out the answer to stop Salem herself. A part of me thinks that the one question Ruby both secretly wants and is dreading to have asked of Jinn is “Who can stop Salem?” because in a weird way, I think she already knows in her heart the answer and is fearing its reveal in a sense. Maybe.

In the RWBY Theme ‘Red Like Roses Part II’, there are two lines of the lyrics sung from both Summer and Ruby’s perspectives that makes me think this:

For Summer it was “…I didn’t have a choice. I did what I had to do. I made a sacrifice, but forced a bigger sacrifice on you…”

And for Ruby’s side it was “…I know you didn't plan this. You tried to do what's right. But in the middle of this madness, I'm the one you left to win this fight…”

“…I made a sacrifice, but forced a bigger sacrifice on you…” “…I'm the one you left to win this fight…”

Knowing what I know now in regards to RWBY’s ongoing story, these lines really resonate with me. I know we were told not to take the RWBY themes seriously in respect to the story. However Red Like Roses Part II technically is the first and only RWBY theme where we actually got a sense of Summer Rose as a character.

It’s the closest thing I have right now to knowing anything about her personality outside of the little things that other characters have sparingly said about her over the seasons and in the expanded universe novelizations.

Going off of this alone, I think what I can deduce is that Summer Rose made the choice to go after Salem herself in an attempt to stop her once and for all on her own. However Summer failed in killing Salem but not without leaving a last imprint that might just spark the key to ending the witch’s reign.

And soon, Ruby Rose will basically have to pick up where her mother left off. This is why I like the idea of Summer causing Salem’s scars. I think Summer set out to stop Salem by herself and unlike other Silver Eyed Warriors before her, Summer is the ONLY ONE who came close to actually stopping Salem. Not that she lived long enough to reveal this truth---a truth that will be revealed in time by Jinn (possibly).

And now Ruby, as Summer’s daughter and heir is left to take over where her mother left off and finish the job in a sense. At least that’s my hunch.

Not quite sure if this long response post actually answered your questions Crystal but, like always I hope it does and feel free to please let me know if it does, fam.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

#crystalandbrass #rwby #ruby rose #summer rose #rwby salem #rwby theories #little red headcanons

11 notes · View notes

doktorpeace · 5 years ago

Note

🖊 please introduce us to Erato, I know they're in a masks campaign but I have no idea what else

Oh, gosh, I feel like I talk about them too much as is but I can’t say I’m not glad to have the excuse. This is gonna be really long cause tbh I’m just gonna dump like, a bunch of their lore lmao.

Erato is my Masks: A New Generation character in a campaign being played alongside @twerkyvulture (As Amanda ‘Megafauna’ Ghorbani, The Transformed) @draayder (as Josephine ‘Rattlesnake’ Short, The Reformed) @spitblaze (as Les ‘Void’ Hawking, The Doomed) @heedra (as Enid ‘Frag Beetle’ Day, The Scion) and @skarchomp (as Parker ‘Cobalt’ Andrews, The Legacy) with @dykeceratops as our GM. The current arc features @mechanicalriddle as Zoe, The Nova as a guest member. Here’s a group shot done by @tredlocity. Clockwise from the top left: Cobalt in blue, Erato in the track suit, Les in the cloak, Zoe with the mismatched eyes, Enid’s the big robot, Amanda’s got the scales and claws, and Josephine’s got the mask and tonfa.

To get back to Erato specifically though they’re an Anti Metahuman/Metahuman Suppression Weapon created by the in universe tech group Wright Industries, founded by Ingrid Day, Enid’s mom. They’re generally stronger, faster, and more durable than humans and can copy the superpowers of others for 5-10 minutes by touching them thanks to what is basically a meta-stem cell transplant interacting with other parts of their systems. (Also, I 100% swear to god that I did not consider ‘Robot Hero Who Copies The Powers Of Others’ is literally fucking Mega Man despite loving Mega Man a ton until after I had hashed out the concept with my GM’s assistance. Only once Abby said ‘oh like mega man’ I was like ‘wait, shit’.) I’ll tell you some about them as a person before unloading their history onto you, lol. Being an android built for combat and kept in an underground research lab, kept on a rigid schedule, constantly taking tests, physical, mental, written, oral, ethical, etc. etc. etc. and under constant supervision Erato lacked for real interactive experience before the campaign started only really ever getting to takl with authority figures and their sisters. They were very passive and observational, owing in part to their power set requiring a lot of adaptation to make the most of. They’re naive and very bad at exercising discretion in decision making, sometimes they overstep boundaries when talking with people without meaning to, and they’re really emotional! They have trouble dealing with strong emotions cause they haven’t managed to discover coping mechanisms that work well for them, they tend to get angry kind of easily and need time to blow off steam. But they’re also very genuine, honest, and well meaning. They are almost never mean, rude, or snippy, they do their best to do well by others, and have a strong sense of justice paired with a deep distrust and dislike of the current legal system in universe. This is in part due to the conditions of their creation (and in part because the intent behind it was kind of right!) and in part due to Enid’s life being threatened by a representative of the state while they and their teammates were in jail after being arrested following a huge brawl with an anti-methuman terrorist group. They’re also very willing to put forth the effort to improve as a person and to mend relationship wounds, almost always apologizing first to Enid when they fight and genuinely trying to work in advice and feedback they get from others, which they often get from Les and Parker. They’re also relatively educated, from the tests of their creators, from home and public schooling, from personal research, but that doesn’t undo their naivety. They also just straight up lack some very basic and/or common sense knowledge. Like, they don’t know what a bear is. Why would you teach a battle android working in a densely populated, extremely built up city about wild animals? All in all they’re kind of inexperienced and immature and make mistakes a lot but they’re (usually) very willing to admit their mistakes and to try and improve and get better. They genuinely and truly want what’s best for others and are learning to value them self as much as their teammates. They’ve also taken it upon them self to start doing humanitarian work in their free time over the summer. In a fight Erato is adaptive and quick witted but tends to put themself in more danger than is necessary. They also sometimes use more extreme force than the others believe is called for, but after the first time they did they and Parker had a real heart to heart about it, Les helped Erato learn and practice some coping, centering, behaviors they could do even under pressure and Erato did their best to adapt. That said they Fucking Hate The Keeper So God Damned Much Because Of How Much Suffering He’s Caused Their Friends And How Much Danger He Presents And Would Kill Him With No Remorse. So they don’t intend to apologize for ripping his arms off whatsoever. They and their sisters, collectively known as The Muse Units, were made to work as a group and as a proof of concept that atomized units could replace traditional police for use against metahuman criminals and to slowly phase out The Registry, the legal department which handles general metahuman based laws. If successful the units could be mass produced and improved upon, rapidly replacing current, error prone, law enforcement. At the time of their development, between late 1999 for blueprint drafting and until mid 2002 when the project was shut down, they were the cutting edge for AI development aided in no small part by Ingrid’s technokinetic powers allowing her to make advancements few others could. (As a note Erato’s body was finished being built in early 2001 but their unique personhood didn’t really come to fruition until February 18th, 2002, so that’s what I consider their ‘birthday’.) Ultimately, however, while a few of the Muses excelled some did not perform to expectations, the project fell behind schedule, investors lost interest, and a minor scandal involving a casualty happened, resulting in the project being shut down. The Muses were placed in indefinite storage, the data gained from their short existence used on other projects such and some of the tech advancements used to inform future decisions by the company. And it would have stayed that way, if not for the fact that in 2018 Ingrid Day was revealed to be The Locust in a conflict where Enid tried to defend her against a militia group who had been hired to take her down, being shot and presumably killed in the process. As The Locust she had been terrorizing Boston for over a decade trying to take it over and being involved in the deaths of over 70 people. (Which irl btw would make her like, the 8th most prolific confirmed serial killer of all time, Yikes!) Wright Industries, desperately needing to prove their hard stance against metahuman criminals and needing a PR stunt to deflect from their connection to their former CEO re-awakened Erato. They weren’t the most powerful or best performing of the Muses, but they were above average, obedient, and had an easy enough to monitor and control power set with little risk for property damage to boot, the perfect choice. Erato then took to the streets of Boston acting basically as a vigilante, following orders, stopping minor crimes, and sometimes working alongside the police. They attracted the attention of The Viceroy, a semi-retired 56 year old hero who never registered in spite of it being compulsory legally. They both have the ability to copy the powers of others, though he can just by sight, and he has body elasticity too. These make him durable and extremely adaptable, add to that his detective skills and he’s something of a local Boston legend. He took them in as his Protégé. Though they remained distant for quite some time with Erato still coming and going between his place and Wright Industries, having promised not to reveal his assistance to the doctors who Erato reported their work to. It was this way for about a year and a half before the campaign started and Erato began living with Viceroy full time, no longer wanting to go back to Wright Industries as they began to think more independently and consider what they wanted for them self more. During this time Erato had chance encounters with each of the other characters a few times as they also did minor vigilante work, peaking with a villain who is a member of Superhuman, an extremist pro-metahuman group, attacked the school that Josephine, Les, and Amanda all attend. After that incident Erato was prompted by Viceroy to contact each of these other young potential heroes to form a team, The Upstarts. Additionally during this time Viceroy took in Enid who had been abandoned by her biological father and had been getting bounced around foster care. Over time the three of them have become kind of a weird family, living in a warehouse full of cats with a couple of bedrooms grafted on and an ultra secret basement lair underneath full of advanced stuff Viceroy makes. Though Erato and Enid have definitely had their ups and down, more recently in the story (and we’ve been doing this campaign for well over a year now) they’ve been putting in serious effort to better their relationship and be good adoptive siblings to one another. I love their relationship a lot, they’re good kids.

That gets us up to the start of the campaign but hoo boy, I’ve been writing for like, an hour now. Since then Erato’s helped take down a nazi-aligned terrorist organization, they’ve got a boyfriend in their teammate, Les, and they’ve made friends outside of their core group of teammates. They’ve also enrolled in school doing well on some classes and poorly in others, namely learning how to Code and Woodworking. Currently they’re at a sleep away summer camp for superpowered kids called Camp Justice, about 10 miles outside of Boston. They really, really hate it there. Constant supervision, being made to do tests, things scheduled out against their will, inability to leave the area? Yeah that certainly reminds them of something. The difference between it and school, which does share these features, is they wanted to go to school. They very much Did Not want to go to camp. As a result they’re finally going to have to start facing the trauma they’ve got from their origin and also actually tell the others other than Les and Amanda about their sisters. Whiiiiich...Enid saw one of them disassembled and showed off in parts at a school science fair display set up by Wright Industries to gauge interest in students. And she hasn’t mentioned this to Erato...for 4 months Uh Oh! Lastly, here’s my tag I use mostly for art I make of them, it includes some texts posts and picrew dumps too though, lol. Feel free to look!

#cubecubed #erato #masks

14 notes · View notes

nobodyfamousposts · 6 years ago

Text

Send Me An Angel - Butterfly Marinette

Added a read more tag because I failed to realize just how long it would be.

At first, he hadn’t known what to think, much less how to respond.

It had been him on his own for so long. Fighting alone. Trying to mitigate the damage as much as possible. His supposed “other half” with the Ladybug Miraculous facing him from the other side of the battlefield, causing the destruction and harm that ironically he as the wielder of destruction was trying to stop. The city as a whole was against him, either under the belief HE was the villain or simply too fed up with the constant fighting to really want anything but for him to give up and make it stop.

Chat Noir was alone. He hadn’t thought being a hero would be like this. He had only been at it a short while and he had already been so…so tired.

Adrien hadn’t had hope of any help coming at that point. Which is what made it so surprising when it finally did, and not in the way he expected.

The first time it happened, he was falling towards the Seine from a particularly heavy blow that left his head reeling when help came in the form of a large hand.

His first thought was to wonder if someone got the number of that truck that hit him.

His second thought was “Okay, this is new.”

He was certainly wary of the giant golem-like creature that came out of nowhere, though had at least some appreciation that it had grabbed him before he could make contact with the cold and debilitating water.

He didn’t know what to expect. Was this a new enemy? Bad enough he had an overly lucky ladybug thief to hunt down, now he had to deal with monsters, too?

Except that this monster was surprisingly friendly. To him, at least. Harmonia, who had been slapped into a wall when she tried to charge at them, seemed to find him much less kind.

Had Chat been less out of it, he would have gone after her while she was recovering and gotten the earrings. Instead, the stone…thing set him down and tried to chase after her itself. Sadly, by the time he had made it to their battle, Harmonia was gone and Chat was left with the stone monster and—wait…was he bigger?

Chat managed to hold off a whimper, worrying about how he was going to deal with this now on top of everything.

It turned out he didn’t have to, as the monster actually vanished in a sudden flash of light and a flapping of wings, revealing a surprised and somewhat dazed human beneath.

To find out that monster was Ivan was a surprise. Not unwelcome, certainly. But like he’d said before: he really hadn’t known what to think. Not about this evil Ladybug wielder or the fact that one of his classmates turned into a monster to help him fight her.

Just…what happened? HOW had it happened? WHY?

He never was able to get an answer before his timer—and the approaching police—forced him to flee.

The whole thing was on the news that night. He watched, looking over every channel and any possible news source for any clue.

Plagg was surprisingly quiet. Contemplating. A far cry from the usual noisy and mischievous kwami he had come to know.

There was only one thing that stood out. An interview with Ivan after the fact to try to figure out what happened.

“An angel spoke to me.” Ivan told the reporter, nervously. “She…she said the city was in danger and asked for my help.”

And Adrien was still so confused. What did this mean? What was that monster? How was it Ivan? Why?

He had so many questions!

Was this another Miraculous wielder? Who was it? Were they on his side? Well yeah, it seemed that way since Ivan—as Stoneheart, apparently—had specifically come to his defense. But he couldn’t be sure if this was a good thing. It…seemed almost too good to be true.

Especially when there started being more of them. More people like Ivan dressed in interesting and unique outfits with all sorts of strange powers coming out of nowhere to flock to his side. No matter where he was or what situation he was in, someone would appear to help him at the call of an unknown person.

“The Lady”, they called her. They had become Champions on her behalf.

Alya Cesaire, the would-be reporter. He had avoided her previously since she had seemed like an avid Harmonia supporter. But she had come to his aid in the form of Lady Wifi. It might very well have been the closest they had gotten to retrieving the Ladybug earrings. And afterwards, her support and her entire website seemed to shift loyalties.

Nathaniel Kurtzberg was a shy, quiet boy often lost to his own art. But as the Illustrator, he brought his art to life in a way that even Harmonia couldn’t match. When it was over, he started making a comic about Illustrator as a hero, aiding the antihero Chat Noir on behalf of a mysterious “Lady” to protect the city.

Rose Lavillant once appeared as Princess Fragrance to defend him from a squadron of police at Harmonia’s command. Her goal had been the visiting Prince Ali, though for what purpose he didn’t really know. Luckily, he never had to find out, as Princess Fragrance helped turn the tables—and the officers as well as a few innocent bystanders—against Harmonia in what was…to be honest, the weirdest and most awkward way. But she protected Ali and helped him, so he couldn’t really help but feel grateful.

Even Chloe had helped out at one point, and that was saying something. Even if it was more in defense of her wardrobe than any real concern for him, but he was hardly about to refuse the help, even from an Anti-bug. Plus it was funny seeing Harmonia’s powers used against her for once.

Each time, they came to help him. Despite not knowing him. Despite the belief remaining in the city that he was the bad guy. Still they came to fight by his side (the way he’d long been wishing someone would).

He remained wary. Waiting for the moment they would turn on him. Watching and wondering when this mysterious benefactor would reveal her true colors.

But after each battle when Harmonia was forced away, the Lady took back her power and released her latest Champion. He’s kept an eye on them and for the most part has seen no foul play. Each Champion has gone back to his or her life as normal.

He couldn’t get a straight answer out of any of them afterwards. But each time, the story seemed to be the same.

“An angel spoke to me.”

“I could hear it! Her voice!”

“There was someone there…the Lady.”

“The Lady” or “angel”, they called her. Coming to the citizens in a time of need when the conflict over the Miraculous dragged them into danger he couldn’t protect them from, not for lack of trying.

Wow, he was just failing in every way, wasn’t he?

Still, there was a lingering aftereffect of their transformation. A strange devotion to this unknown Lady. He’d been worried it was almost cult-like for a while—because a cult was certainly the LAST thing he needed after all this thank you very much. Even if it was a helpful one focused on protecting him.

Except that the more he observed, the more he noticed things.

The way former Champions would nod to each other in passing, in silent acknowledgment of their shared status.

How they didn’t seem to need words to understand each other, now that there was a common link between them all.

How his classmates who had been chosen tended to interact more with one another than they had before, branching out of their original social circles and whispering together over a shared secret. How they took up for each other more. Even Chloe had shown this same attitude—while still having an attitude off-putting to many, the worst barbs were towards those who attempted to bother any of the other former Champions.

He couldn’t help but watch in confusion and amazement how they each seemed to both come together and spread apart—literally, with various former Champions making a point to be in different parts of the city at any time, ensuring that at least one of them would be in the area if and when Chat Noir needed aid.

And above all, it was in how HAPPY they were to do so.

In their expressions, he saw the joy they held in their self appointed duty and the hope that if needed, they can step forth again.

Mind control couldn’t really do that, as far as he could tell. And cults were more in the habit of tearing people down and isolating them, making any potential followers dependent on the group to function. But here, they were still going about their daily lives. Same routine. Same attitudes and personalities. Same level of concern for their loved ones and nothing different in their original relationships. There was just…more to it now.

That’s when he realized it. It wasn’t mind control or a cult—thank god, because that was quite frankly the last thing he needed right now.

It was pride.

As Champions, each and every one of those people had been given a chance and the ability to act. To help him. To protect their city. To do more for themselves and others—a type of self efficacy that for all his effort, he could not give them. He could protect them, defend them, and fight for them, but he couldn’t give them this level of involvement—not without risking great harm to them.

This other Miraculous user, however, could. And did. She—if the former Champions were to be believed—was acting in a way Chat Noir hadn’t even considered—involving other people not as simply bystanders but as an active part of the battles. Though he was uncertain of this plan at first, he could see that she was giving the populous the chance to fight back and do more in this ongoing conflict that they were unwittingly dragged into. Her powers let her give them strength and protect them. They, in turn, used that to help him and others.

And in doing so, they gained confidence and willingness to step up.

Because of this, not only did he have much appreciated extra helpers in battle, but the entire city was starting to support him. Trust him. Look out for him. Certainly more than they had when he first appeared, that was for sure.

He had noticed it more as time passed. There was less fear, less uncertainty from the people who saw him. Instead, there was a much more positive interaction than he’d gotten in the past. More awareness of his presence and acknowledgement of his good intentions. And as time went on, what awe there had been changed to almost friendly attachment and concern. He still found himself blushing and awkward in some of his encounters with civilians. Some store owners offering him wares in appreciation for his efforts. Teens and children who cheered when they saw him. Adults who smiled at him and nodded thanks. Even a few older ladies as well as a nice couple running a bakery who seemed convinced he needed to eat more and constantly tried to feed him whenever they had the chance.

He was…really rather touched. It was more affection than he’d gotten in quite a long time. He wasn’t even sure how to react half the time, and could merely smile and thank them quietly while trying not to get choked up as a warmth settled in his heart that had long since been missing. These were strangers, but they were all part of the same community—a community that wanted to help him and see him safe just as much as he wanted to protect them.

An entire city that had his back.

It was…kind of a lot to take in.

This certainly wasn’t something he’d had before when he was just starting out. And it wasn’t anything he could have possibly achieved on his own.

That made it all that much worse now that he’d failed in the one job he’d been given—the only job he should have been worried about: to protect the Black Cat Miraculous. He’d failed. It was gone, now in the hands of the user of the Ladybug Miraculous.

He was a disappointment. Not only had he failed his one duty, but also everyone in the city who had tried to support him all this time. All those people who had tried so hard to help him. This mysterious Lady who watched over him. So many people counting on him and he’d let them all down.

“How pathetic…” He muttered. Because he was. He had one job and couldn’t even manage it. And now, because of his weakness, he’d lost.

The ring was gone.

Plagg was gone.

And it was probably only a matter of time before who knows what happened and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it because he was completely helpless. So helpless and pathetic that he was sitting there on a rooftop he was now stuck on, moping to himself.

Some hero he turned out to be.

This was it. It was over. He had nothing left.

Nothing except…

“Angels, huh?”

His mother told him stories once about angels. That they were beings that came in moments of crisis. They could be benevolent guides or fierce warriors. But they were always there, especially in the worst of times.

Of course, those were just stories.

But…

“An angel talked to me!”

“The Lady asked me to help.”

“She believed in me when no one else did and gave me a chance.”

No. It was stupid.

…

Still…if it was true? And she was real?

“Well, whoever you are, Miss Angel, I sure could use your help right about now.”

He wasn’t expecting a response.

“I would hardly call myself an angel.”

Much less the one he got.

There was…someone there. He heard the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. He felt something brush against his wrist where a special charm gifted to him still rested. He saw an image of a girl in purples and violets—though whether it was real or only in his mind, he couldn’t be sure.

He was surprised, but hardly about to not take advantage of a perfect opportunity. Which is why instead of immediately falling to questioning this stranger, he grinned and winked at her instead.

“You could have fooled me. That voice of yours is certainly heavenly.”

Aww, she had the cutest little laugh!

He winced, remembering that oh yeah, still had injuries.

“You’re hurt!”

Adrien forced himself to smile as he pushed himself to his feet. “Not the worst I’ve felt, I assure you.”

He couldn’t see her expression, but he could tell she was frowning. “You should rest.”

She was really concerned for him, huh? A shame—maybe in less dire circumstances he could appreciate it more. He winced and couldn’t hide it this time.

“I can’t. Harmonia has the ring. She has Plagg.” He couldn’t just sit by and leave either in her hands. There was no telling what she’d do to them.

“You’re going after her? In this state?”

“I have to.”

Because there was no other choice. Not for him.

He smiled at her. “You know what it’s like, don’t you? You’ve been helping all this time. All those people.”

A breath.

“And me.”

He finally understood it now, or at least he thought he did. This feeling of helplessness. Powerless. Useless. Knowing something is wrong and being so completely incapable of doing anything about it.

“You never had to, but you did. You…gave them the chance to do something themselves.”

That was why they loved her. That was why they were proud.

“You…and they have done a lot for my sake already.”

“It’s the least of what we could do.” She replied, moving closer to him. “You had been doing so much. Trying so hard. There have been many people who wanted to try to help you in return.”

Oh wow. Was this what love felt like?

“You are worth it, Chat Noir. You do deserve it.” Don’t ever think otherwise.”

That…hurt and yet didn’t.

God, don’t start crying now, Agreste!

He wiped the tears anyway. “I don’t want to let any of you down.”

“You haven’t.” She assure him. “Even now, you’re still fighting, aren’t you?”

He was.

He couldn’t just do nothing.

“Will you go after her?”

He paused.

Would he?

The obvious answer was a loud resounding “YES”. Of course he wasn’t just going to let Harmonia get away with what she’d done! Of course he wouldn’t just let her accomplish whatever goal she had in mind.

But…what could he do without the Ring? Without Plagg?

“You shouldn’t go alone.”

There was a hand before him and he started in surprise. Looking up, he saw a flash of bluebell eyes and there was a sense that something was formed between them.

Contact.

A connection.

“Will you be my Champion?”

He hesitated, but only briefly.

If it was mind control…

Well, not like it mattered at this point. HE really had nothing left to lose.

“If you’re by my side, I think I can manage, M’lady.” He replied with a bow, giving a grin.

Yep. Gotta keep that suave hero persona. Because even after everything, he was still a hero.

To his surprise and not-so-secret amusement, he could tell she was blushing—he could almost feel it through the newly established link. He couldn’t fight the grin in response, or the desire to get more reactions like that out of her.

“Shall we dance?” He asked as he raised his hand out to her.

She smiled and though he knew she wasn’t really there, she still took his hand in hers. He felt the warmth and gentleness emanating from her touch almost as if she really were in front of him. From that feeling, he knew. He could trust her.

He DID trust her.

“Then until you can regain your Miraculous, Chat Blanc.”

A warmth settled in his heart—pleasant and heavy like a blanket as the butterfly’s power enveloped him. He was surrounded by a brilliant light and the feeling of hundreds of light wings kissing his skin. The light and feeling faded though the warmth of this new connection remained (and part of him hoped it would never leave). As he regained his bearings, he found himself where he had been and—with some relief—what he had been.

Well…maybe not exactly. The white version of his Chat Noir suit was new. But he could get used to it.

The newly christened Chat Blanc grinned as he still felt his Lady’s touch linger in his hand.

Yeah…he could definitely get used to this.

#ml au #butterfly marinette #chat noir #adrien agreste #kwami swap

1K notes · View notes

aweebwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Move on Dragons Ch21

“Wh- dad?!” Lloyd sputtered, shock turning into even more shock as he stared at the father who sacrificed himself in order to stop Chen and his Anacondrai warriors. “How?!” He asked, not sure if he should hug the man or run the other way.

“I remember now.” Garmadon says, holding onto his head then met his son’s eyes again as the others gathered around him. “The ritual Harumi used. It-” He grunted, dark energies billowing around him.

“Wh- what’s happening?” Lloyd asked, a little scared now as his father hunched over.

“It split-” Garmadon’s second attempt to explain what happened to him was met with his body rapidly regressing, returning to the small black dragon that had been Lloyd’s partner for almost half a year now.

The dragon gave a disappointed chitter then walked closer to Lloyd staring at him in shock, looking hesitant himself.

“... What the heck just happened?” Jay spoke up, breaking the silence. “One second I found my gaming console and the next Garmadon was here? Like, Sensei G? How is that even possible?!” He yelled as Lloyd hesitated for a moment longer before reaching a hand out for Little G to climb up.

“Rux did something somehow…” Cole spoke up, looking down at the dead quiet dragonling in his arms, his shiny eyes not as shiny with trepidation or even fear. “I think he used his time reverse power, but I don’t know how it turned Little G into Sensei G.” He says with clear confusion.

“Is that normal for them?” Pixal asked, looking up at Garmadad who was clearly in thought.

“No. Their powers are of time, not of transformation.” Garmadad told them. “But perhaps, that was how your father looked before.” He suggested, looking to Lloyd.

“... But when did he look like that?” Lloyd asked with a frown, looking to his father who was coiled around his arm. “If Rux really rewound him far enough back to when we were at Chen’s, wouldn’t he become Anacondrai then ghost then Oni? Not like he used to then dragon… And that was years ago. If he’s starting to awaken his power, would he really be able to rewind time that far back?” He asked, looking to the apprehensive dragonling then his friends.

“Lloyd has a solid point there. But things aren’t making sense here. This little guy is definitely your dad but… Isn’t Lord Garmadon too?” Nya asked.

“Yeah…” Kai nodded and they all paused to think.

“... Didn’t he say something about a split?” Lloydie pointed out and they glanced at him before Zane gasped.

“You figured it out Zane?” Jay asked him, reaching down to heave Nix in his arms, the dragonling nervous with the serious air around them all.

“I think I might have.” Zane nodded, looking to his friends. “The only other time I could think of that he’d look like he did must be during his time in the Departed Realm. Harumi resurrected Garmadon by pulling his soul from the Departed Realm and having him become fully Oni. But… What if she only channelled his Oni side and not his human and/or dragon side? What if the ritual split his soul into pieces and only resurrected the dark side of him?” He asked and the others looked surprised at that.

“That’s not far fetched at all.” Garmadad rumbled, his large tail flicking back and forth as he thought. “The soul is a complex thing and is rather flexible. I don’t doubt it’s ability to be fractured.” He told them.

“So this guy’s basically Lord Garmadon’s good half?” Kai asked, all eyes turning to the black dragon as it blinked sluggishly up at Lloyd, coiled in loops around his wrist.

“But if that’s true, how is he here?” Pixal questioned.

“Pixal has a point. If his soul was fractured in the Departed Realm, should this guy be in the Departed Realm? I’m sure we didn’t see any sight of this guy at the Temple of Resurrection back then so I doubt it slipped free when Garmadon was summoned. We went back and checked to make sure nothing else slipped through.” Nya pointed out.

“... Dragons are the only known creatures able to travel between realms at free will so maybe that’s it.” Lloyd murmured as he brought his wrist up to his neck so Little G could coil around his neck for a nap.

“Could be.” Cole murmured then focused on Rux. “Hey, it’s alright. We aren’t mad. You’re ok…” He spoke low to the dragonling, hugging him closer and he pressed himself more against Cole but he still had a hint of wariness.

“The other Kronos Steel blades are being forged as we speak. This time, we will have both of their powers taken for now, until they have matured enough to be trusted with their power. Until then, they will be locked away in the Monastery at the top of the Mountain. Unfortunately, the blades aren’t yet ready and won’t be for some time. Until then, please be careful as their powers make themselves known. They have no real control over them at so young an age.” Garmadad told them and they nodded.

“It’ll be tough but we’ll manage. I notice the line on his side glow a bit before he uses his powers so we just have to look out for that on them both.” Cole told them, all out cradling the dragonling as Jay was forced to sit with Nix, the latter just too heavy for him, even with his boost in strength thanks to both his Serpentine and dragon roots.

“Since their powers are acting up, maybe it’ll be best to have them stay with us until the Kronos Steel blades are finished. I think we’ll react better to them using their powers better than the other dragons. That and if he could somehow manage to turn the time back on Little G there for more answers- like a way to make his soul unfractured maybe.” Kai suggested, looking to his dragon father.

“If you are sure.” Garmadon consented.

“Maybe Vortica knows a way? She was pretty insistent that we contact her after Sensei Wu manages to bring Lord Garmadon back here after all.” Lloyd pointed out, looking up at his friends.

“Very likely. I doubt that this version of our dimension is the only place this phenomenon has happened.” Pixal nodded.

“Unfortunately, we can’t ask her that, despite having a direct line to her.” Nya told them with a small frown.

“Yeah. She’s still observing those other versions of us. Given their power level, it might be best for us to let her keep her focus until necessary.” Kai says as he thought back to the image she showed him back then of the Monastery and where it and half the mountain wasn’t.

“And with that, let’s lighten the mood a bit.” Jay says as he shifted Nix in a half sitting position in his lap and started up his game console. “The whole seriousness thing is really making this guy uneasy.” He murmured, resting his chin atop Nix’s head, the dragonling still looking nervous but his eyes did shine a little brighter as he looked at the colourful screen, his tail tapping Jay’s as he watched on.

“Tell me about it.” Cole murmured, nuzzling Rux but he was still rather anxious after the whole thing. “It’s alright bud, don’t worry about it.” He murmured low as he walked away from the others to the front of the ship in hopes to help him release some of the tension out of his small- for a dragon- body.

“You alright Lloyd?” Kai asked softly as he walked over and placed a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder as he nodded.

“Yeah. Just a little shocked is all.” He admits, reaching up to gently brush the back of his finger against the snout of the napping dragon around his neck, no doubt being rewound taking a lot out of him.

It’s just… That face was one he had lost all hope of seeing again, had accepted he wouldn’t be seeing again. He loved his father in all shapes and forms but seeing that one was a reminder that the worst of things was over, gave him a feeling that he really could keep his father this time… But of course, that wasn’t so. He glanced over at Garmadad, watching him with all too intelligent, all too knowing red eyes. He supposes that’s why he clung to this version of his father as tightly as he had. He was… Stable… Grounded… Not going anywhere- at least, nowhere he couldn’t follow or visit. It felt nice to always have a father figure around… He watched as Garmadad reached a paw out to him and he climbed on without hesitation, Kai climbing on with him too.

“Come e’re.” Kai murmured, pulling him down to sit in his paw and hugging him close, both Garmadad and Lloydie’s snout coming to nuzzle them.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from becoming wet, even as he purred his heart out. He had a family here, with them, with the other dragons and ninja. But… He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want his true father to be here still. He didn’t care how he’d look, just as long as he remembers how things used to be, just as long as he remembered him. Not just know that he was his son… Just… As long as he loved him too…

“Cole.” Said ninja lifted his head to the other dragons close by, all of them staying where they were as per Garmadad’s silent queue for them to stay. “Bring him here.” Rocky spoke again and Cole glanced down at Rux before he grew and unfolded his wings, taking flight a moment after and landing just before the Earth dragon.

“It’s like they say. Two tails are better than one.” Rocky murmured as he curled himself around both the half dragon and hatchling, nosing Rux in Cole’s arms still then resting his head on his tail, watching as Cole stroked Rux’s stomach like he refused to admit he liked, Cole smirking once his tail began minutely wagging.

“Ah-ha! I knew you liked it!” Cole grinned and Rux hissed his denial, forcing his tail to stop wagging- but only for a moment as Cole started scratching, a high purr, his tail wag picking up speed.

Cole only lightly grew his claws in to effectively scratch at the smoother scales on his soft underside, very careful to make sure they didn’t hook in between the scales there.

“You guys keep him distracted, I’ll grab the kid some grub.” Blaze declared as he got to his feet then took off.

Cole huffed, looking down at where Rux where the latter had closed his eyes to fully submerge himself into the feeling. These little guys really were too cute for their own good. Cole would give him all the more scratches he wanted. He’s witnessed too many grow up before they should after all. It didn’t matter if they were actually older than even these other dragons here, they were kids now and they deserved to enjoy it, not stress over things they can’t control. It made him wonder if things like that was the reason why they became the way they did too. After all, Garm let it slip that they turned against the other dragons when they were a little older than the dragon ninja were. Things would be different this time though. At least, he hoped they would be. ____________________________ (More plot! I'm a dummy who wrote red instead of amber last chapter but eyy it's fixed! More plot to come next chapter! Thanks for reading!)

#ninjago #lloyd ninjago #kai ninjago #cole ninjago #zane ninjago #jay ninjago #nya ninjago #pixal ninjago #garmadon #ninjago acronix #ninjago krux #aweebwrites' work

7 notes · View notes

fullmetaldevil-blog · 5 years ago

Text

Stitched Au. Short: Every ‘Dog’ Has His Day.

OK This was a crackpot idea that popped into my head while I was at work. A customer was wearing a shit that read “It’s all fun and games till someone get’s a cone” featuring a dog with the infamous ‘cone of shame’. My thought’s devolved from there...Am sooooooo not sorry.

On with the show~

Batim Stitched AU short: Every ‘Dog’ Has His Day.

A small grocery store was enjoying it's day with a few customers coming and going from the shop with their various fixings for their meals. Allison and Benny were amongst the small crowd frolicking within the market. Benny happily helped push the shopping cart for Allison while she paced back and forth within the isles grabbing various groceries for the week. Benny admired all the different food items that were being placed within the cart and couldn't help but be curious as to their uses. He would bombard Allison with various questions about the foods and she would answer them to the best of her ability. They turned down the cleaning and pet isle for which Allison promptly retrieved some cleaning products and was checking their labels. While she was busy Benny looked around until another customer caught his attention.

It was a older gentleman whom was holding on to a small dog while talking to an employee, the animal had a strange white cone around it's neck and appeared to be wearing a bandage around it's leg. He couldn't understand the purpose of the cone since the animal was wearing a bandage. He knew bandages were used to wrap around any cuts or injuries to help them heal but what was a cone for?

His gloved hand gently grabbed onto the bottom of Allison's coat and he gently tugged getting her attention. “Allison, what's that around the dog's neck?” he gestured to the animal in question.

She followed Benny's gesture to see the dog and the cone around it's neck, she gave a small look of pity before answering Benny's question. “That cone is placed around a dog's neck to keep them from scratching or biting at an injury. It's usually given to them by a vet to make sure they heal properly.”

Benny tilted his head in confusion. “What's a vet?”

“A vet is someone who ensures the care of animals., In short they are a animal doctor.”

After Allison's explanation Benny returned his attention to the dog and he seemed to be staring at it. Allison lifted a brow slightly cause it was like she could hear the gears in his mind turning as they processed the information. Much to her surprise a mischievous grin grew across the demon's face before he spun in place facing her giving her his undivided attention.

“Can we get one?” The toon inquired.

“Get what?” Allison looked at the toon dumbfounded and at the same time curious as to what he was up to.

“Can we get a cone please?” He leaned towards her giving her his best puppy eyes.

If there was ever a moment when something felt off to Allison it was that very moment. It was unlike Benny to suddenly ask for something out of the blue. A small smile graced Allison's lips as she bent down to the toons eye level staring at him directly in his pie cut eyes. “Alright what are you up to?”

“Well Tom is at the doctors getting his check up and shots. You said a Vet is a doctor so I wanted to get Tom a cone so he doesn't mess with where he gets his shots. I want to make sure he heals up properly.” The toon wrung his gloved hands while rocking on his heels causing Allison to lift a brow.

“Benny, a Veterinarian is a animal doctor not a people doctor.” Allison chuckled standing up. She looked at her little devil and felt that something was off, but couldn't place her finger on it.

A mischievous smile nearly split Benny's face in two. “I Know.”

If Allison were a toon a small light bulb would have lit above her head as she realized what the toon was up to. The little devil was planning on 'playing' with his father figure. He wasn't completely subtle about his intentions but she was able to read him clearly enough. She let out a overly dramatic sigh playing along with the toon's antics. “Fine. We'll get him a cone, after all we don't want him pestering where he got his shot. He's old so he needs time to heal.”

Her answer was instantaneous as Benny happily latched onto her leg thanking her for going along. With renewed vigor they raced to the end of the isle with the pet supplies and searched about the section for a cone large enough to fit a full grown man. Allison spotted the cones and grabbed one that she felt would suit the toons needs and even lightly rolled it to gauge it's size. It was perfect. With their desired object secured and a mischievous grin on both their faces the duo hastily retreated to the registers to make their purchase. Just before the registers Allison stopped and grabbed 2 rolls of film for the camera, cause there was no way she was not going to capture her husbands reaction on film. The cashier looked at both woman and 'boy' with concern as the two were giggling throughout the entire transaction. With their purchases in their possession Allison and Benny ran to the car putting the groceries away hopping in the car hoping to beat Tom home.

The drive home was a quick one as Allison took every shortcut she knew to get home. Much to the conspiring pair's relief there was no truck in the driveway meaning Thomas had yet to come home from the doctor. Benny transformed to his Ragdoll from to grab all the groceries in a single trip and also freeing Allison up to open the door. The groceries were put away in record time before the two broke off to set up their 'positions'. Benny retreated to the living room and placed a blanket and extra pillow on the couch knowing full well of Tom's habit of taking a small nap in the evening hours especially after being gone for a good chunk of the day. Allison giggled from her view in the kitchen watching the plushtoon make up the couch as well as hiding the cone within his hammerspace. Not wanting to fall behind herself, Allison grabbed the family camera and made sure it had a fresh roll of film. S huge grin graced her face at the thoughts of her husbands reaction, she couldn't wait to see how the events would unfold.

An hour later the low rumble of an engine alerted the family within that their last member of the home had returned. Benny eagerly rushed to the door to let Tom in and even though the man was tired he happily scooped the toon up in his arms entering the home.

'How'd it go? Everything ok?” Allison inquired as she walked down the hall from the kitchen meeting Tom in the hallway kissing him on his cheek.

“Fantastic” Tom grumbled sarcastically. “I was starting to think I was a human pin cushion after awhile. I have never seen so many needles before and I got stuck so many times I lost count. My arm is sore for all the stabbing and the worst of all was the shot to the rear. My butt was sore then entire drive home.” To emphasize his point Tom rubbed the spot on his rear where he had gotten a shot and scowl at how tender the location still was.

“Well how about you relax for awhile while I finish up dinner?” Allison lifted Benny out of Tom's arms gesturing to the living room.

“Honestly that sounds like a good idea.” The man tiredly smiled before drifting into the living room.

Tom lifted the blanket and set it aside crawling onto the couch and winced slightly from the tender spot on his bottom but relaxed into the couch and he tucked the pillow underneath his head. As if on cue Benny wiggled out of Allison's arms and joined Tom by the couch. The toon grabbed the blanket and with Tom's help he crawled onto the mans chest with the blanket pulling it over the both of them. It had become a sort of routing for the pair to enjoy a small nap in the evening hours together, it was their way of enjoying the others company.

It wasn't long before Tom was out like a light while Benny pretended to be sleeping, the toon kept a watchful eye on his father until he was sure the man was out. Once he was sure he was asleep with the slow rising and falling of his chest, Benny waved a hand over Tom's face anticipating some sort of reaction. When there was none except for soft snores, Benny moved ever so slowly as to not disturb his dad's slumber managing to get himself in a sitting up position to access his hammerspace. He slowly opened the void and pulled out the cone and fiddled with it trying to figure out how to properly close it.

Allison whom had been watching from the kitchen joined the struggling demon in helping him properly close the cone and showed him how to put it on. With gentle hands they slipped the cone around Tom's neck and gently tied it off to keep it from coming off. Once the cone was in place Allison helped Benny off Tom's chest setting him down then she went to retrieve her camera. Benny was struggling to contain his laughter while Allison paced around his dad taking photos of the sleeping man. He painted an amusing picture of his sleeping peacefully with a large white cone around his neck. Allison gave Benny a thumbs up indicating she was done and hastily retreated to the kitchen while Benny himself made it a point to vacate the room, for he knew what would happen when his dad woke up.

The house was in blissful silence and tranquility for nearly a full hour allowing Allison to finish cooking and she even had the time to make a small dessert as a treat for Tom being so willing to go to the doctor's on his own. Benny had taken the time to fortify his bedroom in anticipation of retaliation from Tom. The silence was roughly strangled by a colorful string of profanity and curses that radiated from the living room. The man's shouts were loud enough to make the other members of the household flinch in response.

Allison put on her best 'concerned face' and rushed to the living room to see her husbands reaction to the cone. “Tom?! Everything ok?” The sight before her nearly made her facade crumble as she stood frozen in the doorway.

Tom struggled with cone trying to reach the knot that prevented his release. His fumbling with the knot devolved with him simply trying to yank the cone off his head and grew even more frustrated that he couldn't do so. "Goddamn it! What bright eyes thought this shit was funny?!" The man swore trying to pull the cone off.

"Aww don't be mad Tom. He was looking out for your well being." Allison tried to comfort the enraged man while she got behind him to help him untie the knot while Tom grumbled more curses under his breath.

"So tell me why I have a dog cone on my head." Tom grumbled schooling his temper.

"Like I said he wanted to make sure you didn't fuss over your shots and check up." Allison repeated finally managed to untie the knot and pulled the cone off Tom's head for it to be taken by the man.

Tom gestured to the offensive item. "These are for dogs when they come back from the ve....." Tom's voice died as realization hit him, his eyes growing wide before his head snapped in the direction of Benny's room. "BEEEEENNNNNNNNNYYY!!"

Tom tore down the hall like his rear was on fire and charged right into Benny's room earning a shocked squeak from the toon. The plushdemon's room was completely covered in his inky threads which were only made as a defensive mechanism, which at the moment screamed his guilt. All the threads he had placed to try and slow Tom down did nothing to the man as he charged right through them. He grabbed the toon by his back and dangled him in front of his face where the two were eye to eye. His scowl slowly teased into a grin as Benny smiled at his dad sheepishly.

"How was the vet?" Benny squeaked.

Tom's mouth twitched as he realized he had been pranked by his little toon and that the little demon was playing innocent despite all the threads he created to keep Tom away. "You mean the doctors, and it was fine. I got my shots and check up like a good boy."

Benny happily smiled at Tom "Yay! Then that deserves a treat!" He swayed in his dads grip happily. He was hoping that by acting oblivious to what had transpired in the living room he would get off Scott free.

Tom's brow lifted before a mischievous grin split his face. "Oh I deserve a treat all right." His tone made Benny freeze staring at him wide eyed, it was then the toon knew he was in trouble. Tom tossed the plushdemon on the bed earning a 'oof' from him when he landed and before he could react Tom pounced on him tickling him mercilessly. "Keep in mind dolly boy that dogs have teeth and can bite back." Tom laughed while working the little toon over, Benny's laughter filling the air.

Allison stood in the doorway watching her husband 'punish' the toon by means of tickle torture. It was nice to see the two of them playing pranks on one another and having fun. Even though their dinner was getting cold, the warmth of the room from both husband and demons laughter was more then enough to make up for it.

#family fluff #thomas connor #batim thomas #allison pendle #allison connor #batim allison #benny the stitch demon #benny the stitch devil #benny the stitched devil #benny the stitched demon #batim stitched au

34 notes · View notes

onetoomanysteps · 5 years ago

Text

Regarding the problematic dilemma that is SnA’s eight episode

“The source of every crime, is some defect of the understanding; or some error in reasoning; or some sudden force of the passions.”

― Thomas Hobbes

..Okay, so, here I am again with a long-ass critic post about Shoukoku no Altair’s anime release. Yes. It has been a while and the anime had long ended. I know. Maybe some of you would say that roasting the anime again after all of this time is moot point, since it’s less likely that many people will come and search for it as it’s already out of season. But then again... compulsory community service in the middle of holiday time unfortunately can’t manage to shift my saltiness towards SnA anime, and once again I decided to resume doing this review that I initially thought I would abandon at the pilot episode.

Whew. Okay then, OOT rant out, now time for some content.

Warning: Spoilers, as usual. Also, quite more opinionated than the first review. Differing opinions are welcome, but please relay it with class.

Maybe some of you would be surprised when this particular episode became the next choice for my reluctant SnA anime bashing session: after all, compared to the other ones, this one is quite tame and consistent in regards to pacing, nothing out of ordinary as it was basically adapted from the interlude-type story of 4th volume of the manga. No sloppy scene cuts and merge like the ones littering the pilot episode, the seiyuus’ expertise shining through their well-executed lines delivered with emotive and fitting voice acting, fairly decent editing for supposedly dynamic scenes like Mahmut’s gambling parade (though a dark glittery effect and Katou-sensei used in the manga would make it 100X more awesome, as it added to Manga!Mahmut’s rightfully conspiratory look when he swindled the bar patrons’ money), the smoothness of it would not give the impression of another episode that messed up so bad that it needed a bashing post of its own.

Except that that was apparently not the case. As with most of its notable adaptations recently, there is a disturbing theme that repeats itself across some of Mappa’s recent adaptation works: For some god-knows-why reason, Mappa reeeally likes to change some aspect of the story, so that it diverges from the original source material and transform the show’s overall tone. This, in my opinion, is a kind of hit-or-miss situation; when it’s done well, it can make the story even more interesting and/or bringing out a kind of freshness to it, but when done poorly, it can destroy it into barely recognizable piece of... whatever it is instead.

Two of the most apparent examples of this theme is how Mappa did Dororo and Kakegurui’s anime adaptation. In Dororo, the important, plot-relevant differences shown since the beginning created a darker story that has a whole unique and interesting nuance compared to the more lighthearted original source. Meanwhile, in Kakegurui, in which the noisy, fanservice-laden changes only happened at the very end of the season, it felt abrupt and destroyed the tension that had been building since the first episode. For me, it gave an anti-climatic impression like the ending was written from a completely different story altogether and just slapped on the rest of the season like some kind of poorly made band-aid.

Apparently, it turns out that SnA anime also followed (or maybe some would say preceded, as it was aired even before Mappa!Dororo and aired together with Kakegurui) the same trend. To some extent. Here I see that SnA anime, as I had written about in the pilot episode critique, had changed some components of the story, in which the change didn’t really stem from technicalities and more of an artistic license to change the story’s overall tone. The problem is, the way that the anime changed scenes here and there is not consistent and overall not suited to the kind of story SnA is trying to tell us: the anime tried to somehow mix an image of Mahmut as a righteous, morally superior protagonist that always thrive in his every impulsive, ego-driven endeavors with a particular shape of world- building that centers on realpolitik-esque international politics, in which the highest reward would go to the actor that appeals the most to pragmatic rationality in ensuring their goal’s attainment. In this work, this mostly meant the characters’ goals regarding the wellbeing of their respective nations (i.e. national interest). In other words, the anime tried to blend two things that was supposedly not put together, and somehow tried to make it work. This made the overall tone inconsistent, as the anime was not clear on what kind of message it wanted to tell us.

This flaw was, in my opinion, most apparent in this particular episode. Why, you ask?

Because of this sly, sly, fabulous piece of work.

As some of you might already know, this magnificent bastard of a doge above is one of the, if not THE one, most pragmatic character SnA had to offer. Even more Machiavellian than other magnificent bastards such as Zaganos and Louis that has their own momentary emotion-controlled decision resulting in abject barbarism, Lucio for the most part managed to keep his underlying human emotions to himself, dividing his emotions as a human being with his rationality as a statesman with such surgical precision that even some of us sometimes forgot that he, like all other characters in the series, still has a heart underneath all of that smug diplomatic farce of his.

On one side the manga showcased his ability to create carefully balanced moves, crafted in order to maximize his city-state’s gain as a middle power with decent defensive capabilities and flourishing economy, but otherwise not immune to the effects of Turkiye and Baltrhein’s power struggle that reverberated throughout the region.

On the other hand, the manga also explored his inner, more vurnerable moments through carefully placed flashbacks and delicate showcase of blink-and-you’ll-miss micro-expression from time to time, creating a subtle nuance of conflicting desires in his mind that never truly surfaced for the whole world to see, painstakingly contained lest it becomes a crack that will rupture the delicate balance of his conscience and affect his decision-making abilities.

This two images of Lucio that the manga expertly portrayed, to me, is a good crystalization of the implicit rules of pragmatism present in the SnA universe already mentioned above. The ‘rewards’ for his ideal behaviour are readily apparent throughout the storyline, up until now. Venedik, the city-state that Lucio currently leads, always occupies ‘safe zone’ in the manga’s plot progression: it never suffered a crippling destruction that robs it of its sovereignty (compare to Phoenicia and some of Rumeliana mainland’s city states); haven’t experienced the kind of back-and-forth win-and-losses that causes drastic depletion of its resources (compare to Baltrhein that lost a lot of human and material resources along with their territories, and Turkiye that also lost a lot of human resources, intellectual properties, and arguably their subjects’ trust); and last but not least, it is able to participate actively, according to its own terms, in securing its interest throughout the great war that engulfes the entire region (somewhat of a luxury, certainly not possessed by the Cuore that depends on the Alliance to conclude the war in favorable terms for them).

In my opinion, those advantages that Venedik has would not be there without Lucio’s careful and logic-driven way of directing Venedik’s domestic and foreign affairs and masterful management of his personal sentiments. This is especially apparent when we compare Lucio with other policy makers in the story, that more often than not commited grave errors when they let their personal sentiments cloud their judgement (Mahmut’s impatience to save Ibrahim regardless of his position that led to his demotion in the story’s early stages; Zaganos’ thirst for revenge that led to many unnecessary sacrifices in recent chapters; Constantinos’ pride that led to Phoenicia’s harsh subjugation by Lerederik’s troops; Louis’ apparent prejudice at other other states that emptied Baltrhein’s coffers to fund a costly war, et cetera). The message is quite clear: as a statesman/woman, it’s imperative to separate one’s personal sentiments from his/her job as clean as possible; or else he/she will suffer grave consequences as a result; it doesn’t care what kind of personal morality or quirks you have, it decides that you’re finished when you let them dictate your actions (although still, being shonen manga, Mahmut as the protagonist still gets more ‘redemption’ than most...). Despite it being a value that is somewhat a bit foreign and outdated in manga world, (especially when considering the modern world’s worship of Romanticism and animanga’s reputation as one of the most expressive medium of storytelling), this subtle nuance is what separates SnA from another works in the same medium, even the ones with the same umbrella genre of historical fiction.

It’s this whole nuance that the anime failed to capture in its entirety, thus creating an underwhelmingly generic show of shonen adventure that moves because of Hero vs. Villain plot based on black-and-white morality. The drastic change they did to Lucio’s character, the character that I thought of as the ‘It’ standard of the manga’s reward-and-punishment system, presented this error clearer especially when combined with their hideous portrayal of Mahmut throughout the series already realized by a lot of other manga reader. In the anime, I didn’t see the realpolitik-savvy, confidently prudent Doge that I know and admire. In here, I saw a man so insecure about his own political inclinations that his most trusted subordinate deliberately hid a crucial intel in anticipation of an error in his judgement.

As this is already quite long, here are some screenshots to ponder on. Go figure.

Manga:

An elaborate, brilliant piece of roasting that we never knew we needed, yet the anime never gives

Anime:

Seriously? That’s all?? How about.. the Magistros’ death?

Totally blindsided by an unanticipated jab on your personal sentiments thanks to some missing intels, possibly showing your weakness and incompetence in front of foreign politicians and your own subordinates. Fun indeed.

Um... I think this is not a matter of personal preferences anymore... do you really not trust each other that much??

....Who are you, and what have you done to Lucio?

#shoukoku no altair #the eight episode #long post

11 notes · View notes

yespoetry · 5 years ago

Text

Control the Echoes

By Jonathan Russell Clark

Her spoken sentences tended to omit proper nouns, leaving only discursive, aimless run-ons that veered off one point, switched to another, swooped again, got murky, and finally landed not really anywhere specific but simply where a period arbitrarily stopped them.

“You were here when they told me,” she’d say, “and so you know that I’m not trying to do anything like they said I did, but they keep coming at me, and I don’t know who or what or where anymore, because there isn’t anything like that that I want, and I said that I was fine yesterday because I saw her over there, you know the young one, the one with the, oh what’s her hair like, and she wasn’t asking because like I said I wasn’t saying anything if I didn’t want to.”

The hospice info pamphlets said to go along with whatever she said, but how do go along with that? It didn’t take long, though, for me to figure out the purpose of going along with the things she said. If you don’t, you have to ask for clarification, or you have to contradict them, or you have to interrupt an already tenuous thread—and none of it with any results. It’s the flow that’s important, not the content. If I’d stopped my grandmother and said, for example, “Who are they?” she’d look at me as if I’d just asked her the most nonsensical thing, since of course she didn’t know who they were, because who they were didn’t matter. What mattered for her was some deep need to express, to communicate something, even if that something didn’t come out explicable. It was the act of talking that compelled her, and any obstruction jammed the rhythm and frustrated her. And since no actual clarification or sense came from any question we asked her, it was obviously better to let the linguistic current expel forth unimpeded.

Among her verbal hemorrhaging were numerous references to her long life: sometimes she’d wonder why her parents hadn’t been around to see her; sometimes she asked if I knew her brother, and where was he; and other times it seemed the words were some uncontrollable reverberation of various points in her nine decades.

An echo of herself.

In Aleksander Hemon’s novel The Lazarus Project, there is the following line: “Nobody can control resemblances, any more than you can control echoes.”

If there is a sound and a reverberating obstacle, there is an echo. There is no judgment in the existence of that echo, no choice, no accusation of agency, no life in it. Nobody accuses an echo of hyperbole, of lying, of falsifying the expanse of its resound. It is simply there because it is there.

Three years. Three years. Three years. Three years.

I’ve never reached a fourth anniversary with a partner. All four of my major relationships ended at three, never developing the ability to speak in complex sentences, never learned to count past ten or understand the concept of time or tell a story about what happened to them.

My relationships died before they began to truly become independent. The failure of my love—its inability to keep something alive—repeats in my mind and through me when I meet someone who moves me. The joyous noise of new love echoes off the obstacle of my past failures, and I can no more control it than I can family resemblances.

My mother looks like my grandmother, and my sister looks like my mother, but my sister really looks like my grandmother. I see each of them in each other, in little softly articulated ways, as subtle as color schemes in well-decorated interiors, minute spots of this shade, that one, which unite a space of otherwise unconnected things.

Echoes are beyond our control—unless we alter the geography of where the sound is made.

Echo is a nymph in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, who is condemned to repeat the last few words of whatever Narcissus says. So when he asks, “Is anyone there?” she responds, “One there?”

I am standing in a cavern at Old Man’s Cave in Ohio, where I’m from. I yell out, “HELLO!” and hear loud and clear my voice coming back to me: ELLO Ello ello lo lo o.

Echoes do not return our words; rather, they transform them.

From Lacy M. Johnson’s essay “The Reckonings,” in which she grapples with notions of justice and retribution for the man who kidnapped, raped, and tried to kill her:

I carry these stories with me because I don’t know what else to do with them. The details may differ. If it is not the story of an abusive lover, perhaps it is a mother, or a father, or an uncle; or it is the story of a friend who has been killed by a stranger while trying to do the right thing, or a woman who is shot in the back of the head while asking for help; it might be a story about the abuse of power, or authority, of the slow violence of bureaucracy, of the way some people are born immune to punishment and others spend whole lifetimes being punished in ways they did nothing to deserve.

These horrific and common stories demand a corresponding action—some form of symmetrical absolution, as in movies where the villain is righteously killed by the victimized hero. “Then, as now,” Johnson writes, “we want to transform our suffering: to take a pain we experience and change it into the satisfaction of causing pain for someone else.”

Later, on becoming a writer: “I’ve called myself a writer now for more than half of my life, and during all this time, I have learned that sometimes the hardest and more important work I’ve done has meant turning a story I couldn’t tell into one that I can—and that this practice on its own is one not only of discovery but of healing.”

The American Psychiatric Association has this to say on PTSD:

People with PTSD have intense, disturbing thoughts and feelings related to their experience that last long after the traumatic event has ended. They may relive the event through flashbacks or nightmares; they may feel sadness, fear or anger; and they may feel detached or estranged from other people. People with PTSD may avoid situations or people that remind them of the traumatic event, and they may have strong negative reactions to something as ordinary as a loud noise or an accidental touch.

Echo tries to touch Narcissus, but he repels and rebukes her, saying, “Hands off! May I die before you enjoy my body.” To which Echo replies: “…enjoy my body.”

Mark Z. Danielewski’s novel House of Leaves features a chapter dedicated to echoes. This chapter has caused much consternation in readers: if you Google “house of leaves echoes” you’ll find numerous threads asking why this section is included in the book at all.

From that chapter:

Nevertheless, above and beyond the details of frequency shifts and volume fluctuations—the physics of ‘otherness’—what matters most is a sound’s delay.

Point of fact, the human ear cannot distinguish one sound wave from the same sound wave if it returns in less than 50 milliseconds. Therefore for anyone to hear a reverberation requires a certain amount of space.

My grandmother, out of necessity, does the same things everyday: she gets out of bed, takes medications, eats some fruit or toast, sits in her chair and watches TV. And she talks. In circles, full of non sequitors, wholly incomprehensible. Though there is sometimes a hint of frustration or helplessness in her words, she does not seem unhappy.

And yet she is losing herself. Has already lost most of herself. This self now—the one that still lives, functions, talks—isn’t her. So she isn’t happy; she is gone.

It is this echo that seems happy.

From Salman Rushdie’s The Enchantress of Florence:

The painting is an allegory of the evils of power, how they pass down the chain from the greater to the lesser. Human beings were clutched at, and clutched at others in their turn. If power was a cry, then human lives were lived in the echo of the cries of others. The echo of the mighty deafened the ears of the helpless.

I repeat: echoes do not repeat; they transform. It may be slight, it may seem miniscule, but it is not the same as the original vibration; it is like a recollection of it, a memory.

Memories fuzz the details. They make them murky. They soften the edges of some parts, intensify the sharpness of others. But we do not mistake memories for current realities, no more than we believe that a son and a father are the same person, merely because they share traits, look alike, echo each other.

Imagine the inside of yourself. Not the physical inside but the abstract inner space—the spirit or the soul or the heart or the essence—whatever you want to call it or believe it to be.

Imagine it as an open expanse of sky, or an endless field of grass, or a wide ocean. Imagine these impossible geographies filled with items: the house you grew up in; your first pair of glasses; your crush on your neighbor; the backpack you lost on the subway; the books you read and remember; the words that hurt you, that healed you, that gave definition to something that before was inarticulate; the shape of your calf; a painting by a friend; the hope you carry that persists in the face of repeated failures. It is you who connect this space of otherwise unconnected things.

Now imagine moving through these expanses—flying, walking, swimming—brushing up against the items, through them, past them, around them; touching them, holding them, feeling them. Imagine the culmination of these touches, these brushes, how they add up in your fingertips, give you a sense of surfaces, a variety of weight.

Imagine a sudden interruption in these spaces—a wall bounding upwards forever, a cliff with no foot routes, a curved shaped you can’t get above or below or around or inside. Imagine trying to continue moving through the space, but not matter what you do, you can’t get above or below or around or inside this interruption. In vain, you attack it with your fists, which only serves to confound your sense of touch, which before had been the entire point of moving. You have no options. Like some Biblical figure, like some mythological cypher, you yell at the interruption, condemning, berating, pleading, accusing, decrying…

But your words do nothing to it; they only echo back, mocking your futility.

When Narcissus first hears Echo in the woods, before he rebukes her, he calls out to her, “This way! We must come together.” Echo replies: “We must come together.”

We do not know what to do about my grandmother. She is not she and yet she is.

I do not know what to do with my new love, how I can deflect the echoes of my three-year pattern. Every love is different and yet shades of similarity persist.

We do not know how to get over trauma—not fully, not completely. Those echoes will always be there; we can no more control them than we can control the cause of that trauma.

We do not control the echoes of us; we can only control our own volume, the spaces we create sound in, our voices. We cannot control the sounds of others—“the physics of ‘otherness’”—but we can to the best of our ability change our distance, our space in relation to the echoes, to maybe get close enough to the source, that we can hear it no longer. We must turn the stories we can’t tell into ones that we can. We must reverse the echoes of power.

We must come together.

Jonathan Russell Clark is a literary critic. He is the author of An Oasis of Horror in a Desert of Boredom (Fiction Advocate), on Roberto Bolaño’s 2666. A former contributing editor at Literary Hub, his work has appeared in the New York Times Book Review, Rolling Stone, the San Francisco Chronicle, Vulture, Tin House, The Atlantic, The New Republic, the Columbus Dispatch, The Georgia Review, The Millions, LA Review of Books, The Rumpus, Chautauqua, PANK, and numerous others.

#essay #Jonathan Russell Clark #special feature

1 note · View note

sailor-cresselia · 5 years ago

Text

The Great Ex-Aid Rewatch: Ex-Aid & Ghost, Part One

:grabs the popcorn:

This is gonna be hard, because I wanted to try and do this without in-movie spoilers. I mean, I’ve seen the entire show at this point, and if you’re reading my liveblogs, I’m basically assuming that so have you, so not touching on plot points is a little impossible, especially with my overbearing love for going into meta and theories.

Also, it’s going to be in multiple parts. This first post covers about twenty minutes of run-time over the course of several hours of real-time, and nine pages.

Whoops.

(links to the other parts will go here)

–––

Okay, so. In the first two minutes, we have Dr. Pac-man’s three assistants start shooting up the GenmCorp lobby, and I’m pretty sure that the muscle guy broke a guards neck. And then they go after Kuroto, with a very… glitchy Dr. Pac-Man alongside.

We’re talking ‘pre-bugvisor Graphite’ visual glitching, here. As though he doesn’t quite have enough… I dunno, cohesion to stay intact on his own.

Thing is, Kuroto seems genuinely… if not scared, then at least shocked to see him. The dude’s supposed to be very dead, after all.

And seriously, why do people keep jamming proto-gashats into their bodies?! No! Don’t do that! Stop it! I don’t care if you’re a bugster or not, it doesn’t actually help you at all, it’s just going to make you physically unstable!

–––

And here we have Tougo, victim of the day. I have to say, I’ve never liked him much. He’s… annoying. Also, I’m aware that the choice of color for his school uniform is most likely ‘because Pac-Man’, but that doesn’t change the fact that’s it’s ugly. The girls jacket is a nice dark tan, but the boys have this gaim-awful mustard.

And then the Pac-Viruses attack.

–––

Emu’s such a good guy, helping one of his young patients out in both work and as a sort of mentor-friend. Pity we’re still very early in Ex-Aid, and he’s still a horrible klutz. There’s no time to be tripping over your feet, Emu! We’ve got people to save!

–––

…oh no… It never quite clicked before, but I think Takeru had to repeat a year! He was clearly planning on going to university, if only because he and Akari are/were in the same year of school, and she’d never let him live it down if he didn’t. And here? His teacher, who’s practically mocking him for being six months behind, is asking whether he’s serious about his entry exams or not.

So. Since it’s December now, and it was early April when he came back, Takeru missed the entire last half of what was supposed to be his senior year of high school. So here, he’s probably about three months into what he missed before.

Akari, Onari, please don’t disrupt the class like this, they probably all think Takeru’s weird enough as is without him getting called out for superhero business.

–––

You know, Akari reminding Takeru to be careful, because he’s got a regular body now, implies that he hasn’t been careful. Maybe not as Ghost, but… you know, in regular exertion stuff. (And as Ghost, because there’s probably a number of times he’s had to help Alain with. Like. Less-than-satisfied court members or something over in the Ganma world.)

So, both teams are here at the outbreak site. Team Ghost, consisting of Takeru, Akari, and Onari, and team Ex-Aid, consisting of Emu and Asuna. Both of the lads put on their drivers, and simultaneously notice the other one there.

They didn’t meet outside of the suits in Ghost’s final episode, which was an epilogue to his story and a Bonus Sneak Preview Of The New Challenger, so it makes sense that the drivers – both of which are very distinct – would be how they recognize each other.

–––

Of course, that gets us into the slight issue of ‘when does Ghost ep 50 take place.’

See, it’s implied in-show that it’s not long after Takeru comes back to life, which puts it in early to mid-April. He has a line about ‘are we really going to celebrate my birthday twice from now on?’, to which the answer was a definitive yes, so it makes logical sense for it to not be on his original birthday in October.

Except for how Emu couldn’t show up for his Big Damn Heroes moment if it were in April, because he didn’t put on the Gamer Driver until October.

So, when Emu comes to try and get the Shakariki Sports gashat from Ayumu, it isn’t quite chronologically possible… unless you take into account who Ayumu is.

He’s Takeru’s son. From the future. Meaning he time-traveled to get there.

It’s not even unprecedented for the season – Takeru’s father opened the portals that brought Takeru and Shinnosuke back and forth from 2005 in the Ghost & Drive movie, after all. So, it stands to reason that the portal ability, which Ayumu also shows, is a familial power.

What I’m positing is that Emu traveled back in time, and probably didn’t even know it.

He goes to the game worlds and battle stages fairly often, and since suddenly being in a different location isn’t exactly new to him… it would only makes sense for him to not realize that he’s in a different month, too. Especially when one of the stages looks just like the forest behind Daitenkuu Temple, and he has all sorts of flashy light effects going on all the time. An eye-shaped portal could totally just be another one of the standard special effects.

Yup, nothing unusual here.

–––

Okay, that aside, nobody actually gets to transform just yet, because the whole group is swarmed by Pac-Viruses before either of them can activate their drivers, with the viruses quickly singling Takeru out and chewing into him.

He doesn’t get hit with the literal fever that everyone else they’ve done this to are suffering from. No, in Takeru’s case… the Ghost Driver disappears. He pulls out his eyecon to try again… and it clicks uselessly.

Onari suspects it might be because he ‘hasn’t transformed lately’, adding more credence to his and Emu’s encounter being more than two months ago.

Since nobody else here can… time for Ex-Aid to make an appearance.

In level one.

Cue Opening Credits.

–––

So, Emu can’t so much as dent the Pac-Viruses, and then two of Zaizen’s lackeys show up. The man, apparently named Kazushige Ryuzaki, uses the Drago Knight Hunter Z proto-gashat to turn into… (quick search of the wiki) the Doral Bugster. Since I don’t feel like typing out his name, and it’s never said in show anyway, I’m just gonna be calling him Doral from here on. Similarly with the woman, Ageha Takeda, who uses Giri Giri Chambara to become the Giril Bugster.

So, you know, of course the one with a sword is the one Takeru faces off against. Why not? Not like he’s probably got some incredibly justified trauma relating to them. Not like it’s not actually incredibly ironic that his first heroic Eyecon arms him with a sword. Why not re-open some old less-than-metaphorical wounds right off the bat?

Doral basically corners Emu into the parking garage that Takeru and the others tried to bring Tougo through. Oh, yeah, they were trying to get that guy out of the area when he collapsed. I didn’t mention it because he’s not a good character, and exists primarily to guilt-trip Emu. So, yeah. Doral and Giril knock both our heroes down, breaking Emu’s level two transformation in the process, and here comes Dr. Pac-Man, being all ominous and glitchy, saying that he’s doing this for ‘revenge on humanity’.

Suuuure, that’s how you wanna spin it. Humanity in general. It’s totally not against a few very specific humans, one of whom you’ve recently had held at machine-gun point, and the other who has no idea what’s going on.

–––

They use the scene of bringing Tougo into CR for a brief exposition dump – which is fair, both in-universe and out. Takeru’s team wouldn’t know what’s going on, and it helps just in case the parents in the audience haven’t been following what their kids have been watching. It just gives us that little bit of elaboration on the bugster virus, enough so that people aren’t completely lost.

Tougo’s – oh, wow, his ‘infection ratio’ is already at 63%. Usually when they get someone in here, they’re only in the 30% range. But, of course, there isn’t any data to define what’s going on, because this isn’t one of the normal bugsters. There’d be no reason for Pac-Man to be programmed into a Genm Corp system.

(Which actually raises the question of how they were able to see an icon for Burgermon in episode 17, since he wasn’t supposed to be a Bugster, either. Then again, he is from a game Genm Corp was developing. But I digress.)

Anyway, Emu’s justifiably confused as to why Takeru doesn’t seem to be having any of the usual symptoms of an infection. Oh, sweetie, if you only knew- :ahem: sorry, distracted.

Takeru says that no, he’s not feeling any sort of fever, he’s doing fine.

Onari reminds him that ‘he’ll only get hurt if he pushes himself’, and Akari feels his forehead to make sure he’s telling the truth.

Once again, we’re getting the implication that Takeru has developed a habit of going too far.

–––

upstairs, we’ve got a conference call with Secretary Hinata, the Official CR team, and the Ghost team. Onari bursts out laughing at Poppy’s last name – and freaks out when she hops out of the arcade cabinet.

Both of these are understandable reactions, but maybe don’t immediately declare this a supernatural phenomenon? You know, since a government official was the one to first address her.

I will always be frustrated at the reverb effect they gave Poppy’s voice in this movie. There was no reason for Toei to do that, it’s just excessive, and it’s not like they did it in any of the promo materials or shorts, to say nothing of the show itself. Actually…

–––

I wonder if some parts of this movie draw from early planning stages of Ex-Aid? Like, there’s no explaining the voice thing otherwise, and Emu was pretty close to freezing up for a long time in here… despite the setting for it being explicitly between episodes 10 and 11, at which point they’ve already faced an approaching pandemic, with what Graphite pulled in episodes 9 and 10. So, either the team just didn’t think of that, or there were aspects that got… left over.

I mean, it’s not nearly as inexplicably different as the entirety of the OOO section of OOO & W, but it’s not exactly fitting with where Emu would be even just in the first few episodes.

And yes, I’m aware that OOO & W was made when they had one whole episode of OOO to go off of, but that’s why I think there might be artifact plot elements in here.

–––

Okay, back to the film itself. Again. Emu – Genius Gamer M – uses his genre savvy to realize why he couldn’t damage the Pac-Viruses. If, like some of the other bugsters, they’re operating on the logic of their game, then the only weakness they would have would be ghosts. AKA, instead of infecting Takeru, they burned out his ability to transform into Ghost, thus removing their biggest threat.

I mean, only some bugsters use their games that heavily. Motors, for one, the bugster from Bakusou Bike, is ‘prone’ to racing, and technically speaking, Emu and Kiriya cleared the game before destroying him, by beating him in a race. And the Doremifa Beat Collabos bugster was using music just like it would have been in the game itself – if you miss the notes, you get punished. In game, that’d just be a bad score. In the real world… painful explosions. Poppy, the actual bugster from Doremifa Beat, can’t sing without a backing track. And then there’s Burgermon, who was cleared in the same method as beating a level in his game – making a burger for him.

So, yeah, the Pac-Viruses might be in that class of bugster.

Anyway, enter Dan Kuroto and Hanaya Taiga.

Taiga’s all “No, I’m totally not here to help you guys, I’m just not letting these freaks run loose.”

Kuroto tells the ensemble that they stole the ‘heavily guarded’ proto gashats.

If by ‘heavily guarded’ you mean you were clearly reading their data out in the open, in your office. Again. And by ‘stole’ you mean “They had two machine guns pointed at me, and a sword, and I’m not immortal just yet! What was I supposed to do?! Just not hand them over?!”

…Yeah, he may be an evil bastard, but he didn’t exactly have a choice even if he wasn’t trying to keep up his ‘benevolent CEO’ facade.

Taiga’s comment of ‘those gashats are very dangerous’ is not only an understatement, but also… it’s foreshadowing. We know that Kuroto’s been using Proto Mighty Action X, and that it’s slowly wearing him down – Parad told us as much in episode 8 or 9. We know that Drago Knight was actually hurting Graphite, and he’s from there.

And, although we haven’t seen it yet, Taiga also has experience using them. Proto Bang Bang Shooting is what he originally used as Snipe, back in 2011. But we don’t know that even outside of the show just yet.

This movie came out in theaters in December 2016. We found out that the proto-gashats were involved during the Snipe Episode ZERO specials… the first of which wasn’t released until April 2017.

So… here, have some foreshadowing, I guess!

Emu asks if Kuroto has any idea who the culprits could be… and Kuroto pauses before saying he doesn’t. There’s a… not a scare chord, but a ‘you should be really, really suspicious right now’ sound effect when he says that.

I can’t tell if Emu looks disappointed or suspicious.

…Disappointed. He didn’t believe Kuroto could be evil until he revealed himself, so… yeah.

–––

At the totally not sketchy base, Dr. Pac-Man and his lackies are planning something. They’re waiting for Tougo’s symptoms to break out – he was the one they were targeting, after all. I think the Pac-Viruses went after Takeru on their own. They’re also working on something called the ‘genome graph’.

Complete with a diagram of a human gene… that starts off normal, and then becomes blocky… pixellated, almost.

So that’s not sketchy at all.

–––

…oh what the heck. The next scene is the next day. How can I tell? Everyone is in different outfits. It’s not just how Takeru is noticeably no longer in his school uniform, and back to his normal wardrobe. Akari and Onari are in different outfits, too, and Emu was wearing his yellow binary shirt, but now he’s on one of his dark blue ones.

How long does this movie take place over?

(No wonder Haruto was able to show up out of the blue! It’s been at least a day, so he’s had time to find out about this!)

Anyway, Tougo (finally) wakes up, and Emu and Takeru both start questioning him as to why the people in white were after him. Well, Emu’s telling him to go lay back down, because he can barely stand for more than a few seconds without wobbling, and Takeru’s asking questions.

Tougo cares not for your platitudes and worrying about his health, he’s got school and game development to do! Both Emu and Takeru take incredibly personal offense to this attitude.

Casual reminder, both of them were 18, the same age as Tougo, when things went wrong. Well, went wrong a second time in Emu’s case, when he went and decided that he needed to focus on his studies after… well, as we find out later, doing almost exactly what Tougo’s doing. Neglecting his own well being in order to do what he loves – games.

…ohhh no Emu is same hatting really hard with this guy.

(Listen, Tougo, as long as you don’t start identifying with the primary game designer in this show, we’re set. Just accept the fanmail gracefully, and everything will go much smoother.)

But, as Hiiro points out, they technically can’t force treatment on him. But also… well. There are some pretty nasty folks after Tougo.

–––

On the roof, Takeru and Emu have a little chat. They’re both basically going ‘how on earth are you handling the Rider thing?’ to each other’s situations.

Pulling out the Ex-Aid Eyecon, Takeru says that he couldn’t have imagined that the rider that gave it to him is a doctor. He was just so incredibly neon. But the fact that ‘Doctor Emu’ is saving lives as both a doctor and as a Kamen Rider… that really impresses him.

(Please note that Takeru consistently uses “Emu-sensei” to refer to Emu both here, and in HeiGen Final. No, there’s no hero worship going on here, what are you talking about? That’s silly!)

Similarly, Emu’s incredibly impressed by Takeru’s resolve to have kept fighting after dying, and speaking as a doctor, can’t even begin to imagine what that takes.

And then here comes Kuroto, asking to see Takeru’s Ghost Eyecon to analyze it, so they can make something that will effect the Pac-Viruses.

Since Takeru agrees, it means that he’s not tied to it the way he was in the series. It’s probably a different Eyecon completely – seeing as in-show, the Ore eyecon was literally him. Technically, the Takeru we saw was almost a projection – his tangibility depended heavily on his emotional state.

(There’s a reason I occasionally joke about Ghost’s Eyecons being ‘Soul Gem Two: Spooky Boogaloo.’)

(Also, Yurusen shares a VA with Madoka, and that just drove the joke home. Turns out Meduka Meguca is the cat, after all!)

–––

Hatesate Puzzle is an Android game – you can tell, because the list of files includes four different .apk files. Also, it’s up to version 7.21.

But the programming screen? Uses the same stupid block of text that all of the programming screens use in this show. Like, it’s even more egregious this time, because it’s shown very clearly, in decent lighting, unlike in Kuroto’s assorted lairs. Also, it talks about game physics such as collision detection for the ground.

This is a match three game.

Anyway, turns out Hiiro’s idea was to allow Tougo to leave the hospital, as long as he was still being observed. There’s a hundred thousand people infected right now, and the people who did it want him. So… Tougo is bait.

Needs of the many, blah blah blah you could have at least run this by someone, Hiiro. I get not telling Emu. But Asuna should have been informed, at least.

Almost immediately after Hiiro takes his leave, letting Emu take over, we hear static as Tougo staggers backward in his seat and passes out.

–––

We come to a busy office – a busy police barracks. Team Ghost waits anxiously on a visitors couch.

“I’m glad to see you’re back.”

Enter Officer Tomari Shinnosuke: Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department (active duty); Kamen Rider Drive (inactive).

Takeru and co had called in a favor, and Shinnosuke was only all to willing to help cover this case. Not only is it rider business now, but they’re threatening the city. Not to mention the police squad they destroyed yesterday – handily confirming that a day has, in fact, gone by – means Shinnosuke really wants in.

Turns out the three they’ve seen the faces of were all researchers into genetic therapy with the Next Genome Institute. Doctor Pac-Man is ‘most likely’ their boss, Zaizen Michihiko. Unfortunately…

They’re all supposed to be very, very dead. They died six years ago, as a matter of fact.

Most of the institute’s data was destroyed when the facility was sealed, but there’s a bit of closed circuit footage remaining of the event. Only a few seconds, but it’s enough to show them standing over an operating table, as orange lights encase and dissolve them, squares of light patterning the floor and walls.

Squares of light eerily similar to what they just say the other day, when people were activating Gashats.

Bugster work isn’t the only sketchy thing they’ve done – there were rumors of the institute working with cloning, creating mutants… basically, as Akari says, mad scientists.

(Anyone want to place odds on them being funded by Foundation X? No? Just me? Okay then.)

–––

Emu and Asuna are with Tougo as he wakes on a bench. THey’d moved him somewhere out of the sun, and he’s… An asshole about it. He never asked for their help, and he’ll die when it’s time, anyway, so why are they bothering?

Doctor Pac-Man, still very glitchy, strolls up. “He’s right. None of you are needed here. Why not just hand him over?”

Running time!

–––

Back at the precinct, Shinnosuke promises that he’ll let team Ghost know as soon as they find where the Next Genome researchers are hiding.

Y’know, except for that part where he’s too late, and they’re already going after Tougo, and by extension, Emu.

Shinnsouke’s fired up and ready to go after them.

Y’know, except for the part where Krim locked all of the Drive tech in his depression garage the Drive Pit at the end of the season, and Shinnosuke can’t transform, which Takeru points out, saying that it’s too dangerous for Officer Tomari to go.

Of course, Onari, logically, tries to point out that Takeru’s in the same boat right now, to which Takeru hurriedly shushes him.

Takeru and his team run off to deal with the situation.

Sad music plays as Shinnosuke laments his lack of belt.

–––

And here’s where I decided I had to cut the liveblog for now! Because again, twenty-some minutes, and nine pages of text. This is going to take a while.

See you next game

#kamen rider ex aid #kamen rider ghost #sailorcressy says

6 notes · View notes