#at the very beginning at least. like she was just a super cute and likeable kid. very talented too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jippy-kandi · 5 years ago

Photo

Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna Movie Review

I've seen the film. It was pretty good! Spoilers under the cut.

So, before I watched it, I did read a few bits and pieces of random spoilers. However, I did NOT read the novel – because I wanted to judge the film on its own merits and not be thinking about “what the novel did better”. But I knew things like most characters were sidelined, who the villain was, and how the movie ends. I still have not read the novel.

This is not a “proper” review of the movie -- because what’s the fun in that? You can google actual reviews of the movie by anime websites, if that’s what you’re after. These are just my personal thoughts, impressions and fangirl ramblings (I bias Yamato hard). Plus, a few comments from two others I went to the screening with for a different perspective.

It was like nerd city at the movie theatre, LOL. So. Many. Nerds. Some people even brought Digimon plush toys to the screening! I’ve never witnessed that before. It was great though, being surrounded by so many Digimon fans. I think the cinema was more than half full -- and this was an 800-seat cinema! 400+ Digimon fans? Whoa! I actually thought like only 20 people would show up, LOL.

I tried to put the following thoughts in “order” but some of it isn’t due to the nature of what they’re about . . . plus, I couldn’t 100% remember what order the scenes were in.

Screen time distribution (most to least): Taichi/Yamato, Koushirou, the 02 kids (roughly: Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke, Miyako, Ken, Iori), Mimi, Jou, a hamburger, a whistle, a beer, Sora. (Sora got shafted hard.)

Taichi was exactly just Taichi, which is 1000x better than tri. Taichi. He really did seem like a 22-year-old version of Adventure Taichi, beer-drinking and porn-watching and all. Thank you, Toei. Please don’t fuck him up in the reboot. (Although maybe that’s the idea?)

Yamato is the coolest motherfucker on a motorcycle. He looked SO DAMN GOOD in this movie. There were even a few gratuitous shots of his arse for no apparent reason, LOL. Or maybe that’s just me thinking, whenever he’s bending over or his back’s to us, “That’s a nice arse.” XD (HE IS THE ONLY 2D CHARACTER I THIRST FOR, I PROMISE. I’m actually engaged to Jungkook of BTS.)

Koushirou was the same old Koushirou we all know and love, doing smart stuff and generally being useful. He has no pointed interest in clothes or girls (Koumi began and died in tri., you guys). When it was shown that he was a company president, some people in the audience laughed, lol.

Takeru was pretty bland. I guess tri. Takeru will always be the definitive Takeru to me. This Takeru definitely evolved straight from 02 Takeru (who was also bland AF). But he was fine? I miss overly confident, charming Takeru. Also, where was your crush on your big bro??? lol

Hikari . . . was also fine? I don’t have much to say about her. I like tri. Hikari better (because she was cute? *shallow*). This Hikari was just serviceable. I think because everyone really is just playing second fiddle to Taichi and Yamato, they didn’t really add charms to the other characters. They just . . . serve the plot. And it seemed, at the beginning of the movie, that Takeru and Hikari were going to be in it a lot -- but they have most of their scenes in the first third-ish of the movie before disappearing until the end.

Daisuke was also exactly the same. But I’ve never been a fan of him, nor do I hate him (though he did get on my nerves in 02 sometimes . . .). I just don’t care about him, or any of the 02 kids, personally. :P

I don’t think Ken had a personality in this movie, LOL. He was fine, though. Serviceable. I’m sorry I lack opinions here, but there really wasn’t much to go on. He has no Kaiser issues or anything, he just seems like a normal, well-adjusted kid . . . with no personality, lol.

Iori didn’t have a personality either -- but everyone has always known that. Ha! XP He is just an extra reading lines. I found it odd that he seems so short though? I kept thinking he was still a 9-year-old because of the height difference between him and the others . . . I think Toei forgot that HE IS 17 AND THUS SHOULD BE VERY CLOSE TO FULL ADULT HEIGHT. Puberty is amazing, Toei! (Yeah, he can just be a really short person, I know. I wouldn’t have made that design choice, though. Especially when he’s short compared to Daisuke . . . who is short compared to Yamato . . . and Iori really is a midget.)

Miyako . . . it’s probably due to her voice actress, but she was SO LOUD. And I found her annoying because of it. In fact, she was the only annoying character in the movie to me. Loud people can be charming . . . but I didn’t find her charming. Sorry, Miyako fans. =\

Mimi has an e-commerce startup at 21, lol. OK, you go girl. She was definitely shafted, but she was in it a bit more than Jou I think, and definitely more than poor Sora. Probably a few minutes? Yeah, not a lot, especially compared to Taichi and Yamato. In one of her (four?) scenes, she loses consciousness and ends up in the hospital -- and Taichi, Koushirou and Jou are in her hospital room when Yamato bursts in and goes, “Jou!” You know, instead of acknowledging Mimi, THE COMATOSE FRIEND IN THE HOSPITAL BED. I just found it funny that’s how they chose to frame that scene. :P

Jou only had a few lines, but he was still in it more than Sora. But he is really just a doctor here. He could’ve been an extra hired for a doctor role and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, lol. Oh, Toei, please give all the characters almost-equal screen time in the reboot? Please???

Sora had like four lines and thirty seconds of screen time, TOTAL. I think the decision to hold her back from THE ENTIRE PLOT was SOLELY to have the scene where she reacts to Taichi blowing the whistle, so you know that the sound is going out of Neverland and reaching the real world (or whatever dramatic effect they were going for). I really think that’s it. That, or her voice actress did something terrible to Toei and they’re punishing her. :P

The movie basically opens up with Parrotmon attacking. Takeru was the first to be shown, then Hikari, then Taichi. Taichi is wearing those special goggles Koushirou made for him and he looked goofy AF lol. At one point, Greymon tackles Parrotmon into a building where you see some people inside running away from the rubble. My sister said (without knowing anything about tri.): “Does Tai not care that his digimon definitely just killed some people in that building?” I chuckled because . . . well. ;)

Yamato enters the scene COOL AS FUCK on his motorcycle (most of his entrance is shown in a clip that Toei released) and thank you Toei for doing that for him. He deserves a showy entrance. :) Although I do find it funny that he’s obsessed with motorcycles, given I still remember giggling as a kid at him NOT liking riding on the back of some guy’s scooter in Digimon: The Movie.

The music was nice and nostalgic and I have no complaints.

There is a quick scene of Yamato seeing a kid in a music store getting a harmonica, and watching a street performer singing. Obviously he’s thinking about his passion for music as a kid/teen (and his childhood in general?) and it was a nice touch. I think by the end of the movie you would’ve understood that Yamato was letting go of his past (childhood) and heading towards the future (adulthood).

A friend of Yamato’s makes a comment to him that Japan’s Self-Defense Forces are going to recruit him into the military due to his experience as a Chosen Child. Yamato replies, “that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard”. BUT . . . this is Kizuna telling you EXACTLY what is going to happen, lol. I actually “predicted” Yamato’s career path years ago -- but it wasn’t hard, as there is really only two ways it could’ve gone, lol. Military test pilot or commercial air pilot -- which one, especially given the context Kizuna just gave us, is more likely? ;)

Yamato is shown wearing GLASSES in class (looking nerd-hot AF). Toei Animation must not have researched Yamato’s astronaut career as intensively as I did, and therefore did not know that astronauts need 20/20 vision lol. Oh well, he can get it corrected. :p (Or, he doesn’t actually need glasses but WEARS THEM AS A FASHION STATEMENT. Because I can believe that. XD)

I think Yamato had about three different outfits in the movie? And he looked good in all of them. Are there people out there who think he’s not fashionable? I'd find that opinion strange, given the fact that the staff behind 02 and tri. were actively designing him as the well-dressed cool guy of the group. He wears exactly the kind of clothes the well-dressed cool guys at my high school/university wore. Sure, sometimes they force green tops on him purely for nostalgic reasons and it therefore clashes -- there is only so much you can do with a green top -- but overall, he is supposed to come across as someone who cares about his appearance. If you don’t think so, you’re either not into fashion or you aren’t aware of 2005-2010 fashion as a teen/young adult. (If Yamato was a millionaire, I’m sure he’d dress identical to BTS with super expensive clothes lol. But he dresses very well for a “normal” person. :p)

Taichi was shown with two of his friends who were asking him about his aspirations or something, and the guy looked like an unattractive nerd. My sister said: “I didn’t like how they showed Tai with sloppy friends, but showed Matt with good-looking people.” LOL. Her favourite as a kid was Taichi, BTW. XD;

Menoa and Imura were . . . OK characters. Menoa seemed likeable enough at first, but when her real intentions were revealed she turned into a typical, crazy, possessed villain. Imura was really just there to service the plot, like a necessary extra on set. There was nothing more to him.

Menoa’s English is terrible. And it’s very noticeable because she inserts random English words into her Japanese sentences, lol. I laughed when Koushirou told her that her Japanese is very good (because SHE IS ACTUALLY FLUENT IN JAPANESE . . . and not so much in English). Yes, I know it’s because it’s a Japanese voice actress -- but it was still funny every time she spoke heavily accented English, followed by fluent Japanese. :P

Menoa’s partner digimon, Morphomon, was cute in design. Eosmon was the villain digimon and was Menoa’s attempt at recreating Morphomon, who disappeared on her. Does this sound kind of familiar? lol

Omegamon devolves into Koromon and Tsunomon when fighting against Eosmon. Back in Koushirou’s office, Menoa explains that you only have a limited amount of time with your digimon before they disappear and that fighting accelerates it. Taichi has a circle of lights on his digivice that lose a bar of light every time he fights with Agumon. When the lights all disappear, Agumon will disappear. Koushirou and Takeru look at their digivices to check if they’ve got it – they don’t, and they are relieved. Yamato then checks his and . . . well. He has it. His eyes start watering and he storms out of the room saying something along the lines of his bond with Gabumon will not be broken. I FUCKING LOVED THIS SCENE. Top 3 in the movie for me, personally. We all have weaknesses. Emo Yamato is mine, lol. I like it when he gets so emotional he cries in front of other people. :3

The “porn stash” scene with Agumon at Taichi’s apartment was HILARIOUS. The funniest scene of the movie. Everyone in the cinema laughed so hard. It was Taichi’s reaction that sold it -- it was BRILLIANT. The magazines actually had girls on the cover wearing bikinis, so, at least Agumon kept his innocence! lol

Gennai randomly appears in Taichi’s apartment to confirm the thing everyone should’ve always known (but that they just made up for Kizuna and which DEFINITELY led to “creative differences” with Digimon series director Hiroyuki Kakudou). This, of course, would be the whole idea that the more you “grow up”, the more your bond with your partner digimon breaks until, eventually, they disappear. Does the idea have problems? Yep. Menoa lost her partner digimon Morphomon at age 14 because she decided to accelerate her learning and go to university . . . meanwhile, Koushirou is the president of his own freaking company and still has Tentomon by his side. Yeah, OK, Kizuna. And, sure, you can argue that it’s about BECOMING AN ADULT -- but I think you’d just be drawing lines where YOU want to draw them. How mature is 14-year-old Menoa to be an “adult”? Is Koushirou really not mature enough at 21? And what about Jou, who I definitely think is an adult in all sense of the word? And so on. So arguments about this I think are valid, but at the same time . . . it’s Digimon. I think it’s a flawed idea but I also just shrug and accept it as it is, lol.

I “love” how Gennai just pops in when it’s convenient to the plot. Hello Gennai, what’s dark Gennai up to? Have you seen him around licking underaged girls anywhere? No? You’re just popping by to confirm shit to Taichi? OK, cool. See you in the tri. sequel, never. (He actually does give Taichi a reasonable answer as to why the growth/bond thing was never brought up before: that it’s like talking about how long you have to live. I bought it.)

Yamato is basically the reason the 02 kids are even in the movie, lol. He asks them to investigate Imura and Menoa for him and they do so. They contact him later on with info and they ask that he take them out for okonomiyaki (which is awful by the way, lol) as thanks and he smiles and says he can do that. This is just a nice exchange between them. :)

Yamato eventually confronts Imura (or is it the other way around, lol) and Imura HAS A GUN. Which was surprising to me because I remember that in the English dub, Puppetmon’s gun was censored, so seeing a gun in a Digimon movie was a little surprising. Anyway, Yamato doesn’t seem concerned by the fact that this dude can just shoot him dead, lol. Gabumon is with him, but still. Imura can still kill you before Gabumon kills him, you know. XD But it’s all good because Imura turns out to be an undercover FBI agent who wants to arrest Menoa, THE REAL VILLAIN. I was spoiled with this so no surprise.

There is a scene where Yamato has his hand tenderly on Takeru’s face because he lost consciousness. It was sweet, but I would’ve liked it more if Takeru had more of a personality in the film so I could actually care about him, lol. Yamato’s such a caring big brother, though. :)

Yamato was perfect in this movie. PERFECT. I had a few issues with his characterisation in tri. (I think he was, overall, about 80% Yamato), but he was ALL YAMATO, ALL THE TIME here. He is my favourite fictional character of all time, so DEAL WITH THE BIAS. I love him and, honestly, Yamato>Taichi all day, every day. I totally understand you, Sora. DON’T @ ME TAICHI STANS. XP

The ONLY minor quibble I had was that Yamato asks Taichi if they should really try to save the other kids, because fighting means it speeds up their bonds breaking. My quibble is: YAMATO IS NOT FUCKING SELFISH. He’s SO selfless. He would fight to save the other kids NO QUESTIONS, even if it meant he’s accelerating the destruction of his bond with Gabumon. But I give this scene a huge pass because it basically had to go like that, because ONE person out of Taichi/Yamato had to be reluctant so that the OTHER person pushes forward and has a “hero” moment. And who’s going to get that “hero” moment? The actual hero and MAIN CHARACTER of Digimon, Taichi, of course. SO I GET IT. I even agree and would’ve written it that way too, for Taichi to be the leader and reassure Yamato that this is what they’re doing (unlike in tri. where Yamato 1000% deserved the mantle of LEADER and Taichi could’ve whinged off the edge of a cliff and I. WOULD. NOT. CARE.). BUT I will still rant about this 30 second scene in my blog and scream to the universe that Yamato Ishida is the most selfless fictional being on the face of the planet and you better fucking know it. :)

Menoa is Maki 2.0. As soon as Menoa is revealed as being behind the evil stuff, she is instantly psychotic. So Maki 2.0 she definitely is. But . . . I don’t really care. Could Toei have been more original? Yes. But I can’t be bothered to criticise them for recycling a plot, because I’d rather criticise tri. for doing it in the first place, LOL. OK, honestly? At least Menoa’s plot had an actual resolution, instead of Maki being revealed and then . . . fucking off out of the entire series so abruptly. Like??? Kizuna followed through with it, tri. did not. That’s why I’m OK with the rehash, because Kizuna did tri.’s plot better. (Maki’s plot would’ve been good if the tri. writers didn’t get lazy AF at the end and just . . . didn’t . . . finish it.) I might also be giving Kizuna a huge pass because it made me feel things, lol.

The movie really picks up after Menoa reveals her intentions and they end up in Neverland (a place she created in the Digital World?) where she claims all the Chosen Children can stay as children with their partner digimon forever. It became a lot more interesting after that. But that’s also near the climax, lol.

In Neverland, all the kids who have lost consciousness are in their child forms (from the first season) and are basically Menoa’s puppets. This was really cool; it not only gave you nostalgic feels to see them like that, but it was also pretty creepy to see them with glowing red eyes. The Chosen Children, as kids, attack Taichi and Yamato. I laughed when Patamon attacked Yamato’s face and Tentomon tackled Taichi, lol. But I have to say though that Sora’s absence was VERY glaring here. Because . . . everyone was there, but her. :(

Other Chosen Children from the past are present in Neverland too. I FREAKING SAW MICHAEL, MIMI’S AMERICAN FRIEND, STANDING BEHIND HER. I was so surprised at his appearance that I didn’t catch anyone else. There were definitely others, but I didn’t make them out at all because I was so caught off-guard with Michael. XD; (I DON’T EVEN GIVE A SHIT ABOUT HIM, LOL.)

Someone said that Taichi called out Meiko’s name in the movie . . . well, I’m pretty sure that Yamato does, and he calls her by her last name, “Mochizuki”. This is when they’re in Neverland and Menoa shows them her “collection” of Chosen Children. Meiko pops up for one second. It was like Kizuna went, “Oh! Hey, tri. existed by the way. Now let’s move on.” lol

While being attacked by the Chosen “puppets” in Neverland, Taichi manages to reach his hand out and grab Hikari’s whistle and blow it -- effectively “waking” them all up from their puppet states. Everyone in the cinema got hit with audible FEELS, because when Taichi blew Hikari’s whistle the screen flashbacked to that scene from the first movie. I found the collective audience reaction more powerful than the scene itself, lol. But I really liked it, too. :)

So while everyone else is in Neverland . . . SORA IS IN HER APARTMENT HUGGING PIYOMON. Thanks, Sora, you’re a real friend. *cough* After Taichi’s whistle blow, she intuitively knows what’s going on and says she believes in everyone . . . THANKS AGAIN, SORA, YOU CHEERLEADER. OK, look: I do think it is pretty selfish of Sora to choose not to fight. I understand all the reasoning behind it, I even think SHE DESERVES TO BE SELFISH FOR ONCE etc., and I am fine with it -- but I still think it’s selfish. Because it is. And that’s OK, nobody is perfect, and people are selfish from time to time. If only it wasn’t glaringly obvious that her selfishness happened only because Toei just wanted her out of the way for most of the film . . . her absence, as stated before, really was noticeable in scenes where literally everyone else was included but her. (I’d also just like to point out that her voice actress was STILL CREDITED THIRD after Taichi and Yamato in the ending credits. LOLing forever -- such little contribution, such big recognition. XD)

But don’t get me wrong, I love Sora. I really fucking do. Taichi used to be my second favourite character in Digimon for a long, long time -- but Sora managed to dethrone him from second place (fucking Yamato probably helped, LOL). I think, screen time-wise, Kizuna did her a bigger disservice than Our War Game did. Yes, let that sink in. Remember how little she was in that movie? It’s worse in Kizuna. But story-wise and character-wise? Kizuna probably did better, because Sora was angry over a hairclip in Our War Game lmao. If you haven’t already, check out her memorial story short “To Sora” that Toei Animation released online. It’s six minutes of Sora . . . which is 5 and a half more minutes than in Kizuna! XD;

There’s a scene where Agumon and Gabumon tell Taichi and Yamato that they like watching them grow up. It was very touching, but also very brief. It was one of my favourite moments though. It made me have quick flashbacks in my mind of itty bitty Taichi and Yamato growing up into who they are now. The enormity of everything they had been through since the first season. THE HISTORY. THE GROWTH. It hit me right in the feels.

Taichi and Yamato’s homoerotic-ness was actually toned down a lot, especially compared to tri.. They don’t have forced disputes where they get angry at each other and the gay sexual tension shoots through the roof. They’re just . . . friends. Two dudes who drink beer together and moan about their lives. The partnership between them and their digimon were the focus of the movie, more so than the friendship between them. I actually liked this, and I usually care more about the human connections over the human-digimon ones.

“Shipping moments” – if you squint hard enough. Takari: At the start, Takeru shields Hikari from harm. Sorato: While Taichi informs Yamato about the lives of some of the other Chosen Children, Yamato lets Taichi know what Sora is up to -- that she’s seriously studying flower arranging. Kenyako: Ken asks Miyako, and only Miyako, if she’s OK (when Daisuke is right next to her). Taiora: Sora says Taichi’s name when he blows the whistle in Neverland and she hears it all the way in the real world. (My sister legit whispered to me: “SHE DIDN’T SAY MATT’S NAME.” BITCH, he ain’t the one whistling! XP) Now, Digimon Adventure tri. shipbaited hard -- but Kizuna did not do this. All of these very small moments felt very organic and passed as if they were a natural part to the story, instead of something shoehorned in with the explicit purpose of shipbaiting. I really liked this approach. The Sorato one in particular (surprise, surprise) said a lot about Yamato’s relationship to Sora without being explicit about it. He knows what she’s up to when her childhood best friend doesn’t? Yeah, those two are definitely hooking up after classes. :P (I jest. But it does tell you with one sentence that Yamato and Sora keep in touch, which I appreciated. You gotta do that if you’re having babies together within the decade, you know?)

There were next to NO evolution sequences. I might remember it happening once or twice? Max. And . . . that was a REALLY lame choice. Especially when Agumon and Gabumon evolve to their newest forms; Taichi and Yamato are just floating with them up into the air and then, poof, the new evolutions are shown. Google tells me they’re just called Agumon -Bond of Courage- and Gabumon -Bond of Friendship- respectively . . . they were not named in the movie. Here’s the thing: I don’t really care about digimon and evolutions. But it was so underwhelming; they really should’ve amped it up with an evolution sequence to be like HERE BE THESE NEW AWESOME FUCKING DIGIMON ‘bout to kick your arse. It seems like such a no-brainer that I really don’t know who would sign off on a evolution sequence not happening. Oh well. As for the designs? They are OK, but definitely could’ve been better. I think “cool AF” when I see Omegamon and all his forms. I don’t think that of these new evolutions lol. (But my sister liked them and thought they looked cool, so . . .)

Also . . . the fighting scenes in this movie were pretty bad. Very underwhelming. Our War Game and Diablomon Strikes Back did a lot better. I both like and dislike the animation style in Kizuna. I do actually like the art of it, like how it looks. But I kinda dislike how it’s actually animated, because it doesn’t really look like they’re moving fluidly enough. It’s a bit too choppy. I just expected the fighting/action scenes to be more exciting (I was hoping Our War Game-level) and of a higher standard. But they are not, unfortunately.

Everyone in the cinema audibly GASPED when Taichi and Yamato were just talking to Agumon and Gabumon after the final battle, and then they turned around and they . . . just . . . disappeared. And then Taichi and Yamato CRIED. SO. HARD. And I actually started repeating in my head, DO NOT CRY, DO NOT CRY, lol. I didn’t cry! Almost, though. :p I really loved this scene. And I really think, narratively, it would’ve worked A LOT better for the movie to end on this scene. The actual ending scene that comes after it felt a little too out of place and tacked on to me. More on that later.

There was a small smattering of applause at the end of the movie, lol. But I did not clap, because I find that weird. :p (Even though I clapped, alone in my house, when Parasite won Best Picture at the Oscars LOL.)

The ending credits showed different photos of the kids. Unfortunately, I . . . don’t really remember most of them. XD; I think I saw Sora arranging flowers? And maybe Daisuke and Ken having dinner? I definitely saw Iori doing kendo, because I thought it was cool. And the one photo I definitely remember for sure: Yamato standing in front of a space shuttle. I stan astronaut!Yamato so hard, you guys have no idea how happy it made me that he’s pursuing his dream omfg my little baby boy. XD;

This is definitely Taichi and Yamato’s movie. Everyone else is just playing supporting/cameo roles -- some more than others, as outlined way above. (Well, except Menoa I suppose . . . and Koushirou to the extent that he’s just needed to be the Digi IQ.) But if you’re NOT a fan of either Taichi or Yamato? I think, though you’ll probably love all the nostalgia bits, you’ll also be really disappointed -- especially considering this is supposed to be the final instalment of the original Adventure continuity. It’s a great “love letter” to Taichi and Yamato specifically, but not for the other characters, sadly.

I saw the movie with my sister (a non-fan who used to like it as a kid) and a friend (a casual fan now, but she used to like it a lot years ago). I’ll refer to them as “S”(ister) and “F”(riend), respectively.

After the movie ended:

S: “Did you cry? Because two guys beside me were literally sobbing. SOBBING.” *Judging.* (LMAO.)

What was our favourite part of the movie?

Top 3 scenes for me were Yamato storming off with his eyes watering when he realises his bond with Gabumon has an expiry; the brief “speech” Agumon and Gabumon give to Taichi and Yamato about wanting to see them grow up; and Taichi and Yamato crying at Agumon and Gabumon vanishing. EMO EMO EMO.

S: “Sora doing fuck-all.” (LMAO.) F: “Yeah! What was up with that? It’s like they forgot she even existed.” S: “Sora is just a cunt.” (Note: S has a dry sense of humour and isn’t really being malicious. BUT . . . I do think most viewers watching Kizuna would have a poor opinion of Sora in this movie . . .)

F: “I liked the 02 kids. I guess it was mostly Davis. And I liked when Veemon was riding on Armadillomon’s back and Wormmon was trailing behind. It was just this random thing but it was funny. Maybe I just like making fun of Wormmon.”

About the idea that growing up affects your bond with your digimon:

S: “What I took from it was that you shouldn’t grow up too fast. Cherish your childhood, cherish your memories. But, eventually, you do need to grow up.”

F: “I don’t understand how this whole “Digimon disappear when you grow up” thing wasn’t known. Weren’t there older people with Digimon before? You’d think they could have made a more specific threat that was just affecting their digimon, not be like, “Yeah this happens to everyone, it’s just a fact of life that we’ve never addressed before.” It felt a bit like they were telling the audience to grow up and get over Digimon.”

What would we rate the film?

I probably have to watch it again to give a definitive score, but at the moment, I give it about a 7/10. It was good, but not great. The last half was pretty great though -- it definitely started out slow (there was a lot of exposition via Menoa vomiting words). Is it better than tri.? Chapter 3: Confession, no. Confession is better, I think, but I also haven’t seen it in years. But the rest of tri.? Probably. Especially the pile of shit that was Chapter 6: Our Future. *cough*

S: “4/10.″ (LOL.)

F: “It was better than tri.. I guess a 7/10 too.”

Sequel?

I think it’s definitely a possibility. I feel like the very last scene of the movie was slapped on just to be like, “Well, if we don’t do a sequel, you know that Taichi and Yamato are definitely going to reunite with their partners eventually for the 02 epilogue to happen.” The scene is of Taichi and Yamato saying something along the lines of meeting Agumon and Gabumon again one day.

And while it’s an uplifting ending, I actually think the movie would’ve ended better with the scene before that -- with the digimon disappearing and Taichi and Yamato crying. It would’ve made a bigger emotional impact and raised the movie up just a notch higher to end on such a ballsy note. But, of course, it would’ve meant a sequel definitely had to happen. So the actual final scene was added on so that a sequel doesn’t need to be made -- but that it leads to the 02 epilogue “off-camera”, in case they really don’t do a sequel.

I think there’s a 50/50 chance of a sequel. The movie actually does close the Adventure story pretty well -- it has all the ingredients to lead to the 02 epilogue without actually taking you there. But it also keeps the possibility of a sequel open, where they can show you exactly how Taichi and Yamato reunite with their digimon.

And, honestly, the only “barrier” I see to a sequel happening is that the reboot is airing next month -- and it’ll be confusing for the next generation of kids to follow one continuity, and then have a movie released with characters they recognise, but in an entirely different continuity. Unless, of course, the sequel comes out in another two years and the reboot has finished after one season (though there’s always a possibility it goes on beyond one season).

S: “Yes, I think there’ll be a sequel.”

F: “It seemed quite final. But obviously if the 02 epilogue is accurate that can’t be the end. Unless Matt finds Gabumon again on the moon I guess. “Oh hey yeah we don’t really disappear, we just go to space!” Yeah, it could go either way. Maybe they are saving Sora’s big part for the sequel!” (XD)

And that’s a wrap! I’ll probably read the novelisation of the movie eventually . . . and it’ll probably be like 95% the same, lol.

#digimon #digimon adventure last evolution kizuna #digimon last evolution kizuna #digimon last evolution #digimon kizuna #review #spoilers #50% thirst #30% jokes #20% actual content #XD

88 notes · View notes

dolls-self-ships · 4 years ago

Note

🎫 here’s a gush pass ^^ feel free to gush about whichever f/o you want, however much you want, then send this ask to 3 other selfshippers

this has been in my ask box forever bc I’ve been saving it for when I have a LOT to say so I would like to talk about himb!!

this angel himbo babey, who I never in a million years thought I’d have any sort of emotional connection too until I watched All Hail King Julien.

So, I never really minded Julien’s character. He was funny and entertaining in the Madagascar movies, and yeah, more of an asshole in the POM series but still had his... I guess “likeable” moments (?) there too. I was always usually pretty indifferent to/tolerated him, until I finally decided to sit down and watch his show, which dropped in 2014 and ended in 2017 (so I’m a little late to the party but sjskslsnsslskssk anyways).

And I had a blast watching it!! Every episode from beginning to end was an absolute treat (aside from some questionable moments and one episode that was defineatly a product of one or two of the writers... “interests”). They made Julien so incredibly likeable, dare I say even loveable, while still being himself! I cannot express how well they did his character in this just MMM *chef kiss*. And they gave him more characters who were equally as interesting and enjoyable to interact with and bounce off of and honestly it all just really worked!! I loved Maurice, Clover is a well-written “strong” female character, Mort was... a choice, Masacaura was hilarious, Uncle King Julien was a sleaze ball but like.. a well written and entertaining one, and EVERY Lemur Kingdom civilian is so delightfully charming!

But I’m not here to talk about the show, this is about the Prince of Partying himself, so here’s what I like about him specifically!!

Honestly I have no fucking clue. Julien isn’t my type at all, at least not on the surface. Bc yeah, there’s characters that I f/o like Beetlejuice and Spinel that I guess would fit into the same category as Julien of “chaotic, but well-intentioned himbo that’s a bit egotistical and trying their best”. And yeah they gave him more sympathy, responsibility, and depth in the show, but his overall personality is still very much the “way in over his head and super confident in both himself and his stupidity party guy” that he maintains in both the MCU (Madagascar cinematic univese) and the POM tv series. But I think what really makes me like King Julien in this is that he has more... kindness. At least more moments of it. Also genuine relationships with the characters around him that give Julien more sides to him which makes a more compelling f/o for me. I also think it’s that, despite the fact that he’s a bit air-headed, he always means well, even though sometimes he can be selfish or impulsive, he always makes up for his mistakes in the end and learns from it. With the other two previous Julien’s, that was never a thing he did, so it kind of took away from the initial charm of him being a goofy and more or less egotistical king (at least for me).

THIS Julien however, has almost every aspect of himself from previous media’s, but added parts that improve him and even excuse some not-so-great parts of him. And I absolutely love it!! I’m still in a spot where I’m not 100% on f/oing him romantically but.. you know what, he’s cute, he has those moments that make me clutch my heart, he’s a bit of a flirt, and I find him charming and likeable, so I’ll excuse a little mutual (or one-sided) crushing. You feel?

Honestly, I have to partially blame my sister for this since she suggested that upon meeting me, Julien would try and put the moves on me like the absolute playboy that he is sksksjsjskssjsk. Picturing how he would do it just made me laugh (because let’s be real, he would be a total goof about it with no self-awareness or shame whatsoever), and from then on I was just interested in what our dynamic would be like.

I am also!!! Not very smart!! So I think we would make a decent himbo/bimbo power duo. He has a LOT more energy than I do, but I think if I tried I could keep up with him. I’m not shy, but there’s still lots of things that I feel awkward/self-conscious doing (ironically, dancing is a big one) and therefore just refuse to attempt, so I think Julien would definitely help me loosen up and not be afraid to embarrass myself. As long as I’m having fun, then who cares? He embarrasses himself all the time and does not give a fuck, probably because he’s oblivious to it, but still!!

Overall, I just have a lot of soft and mushy feelings for this lemur. They’re ambiguous and unidentifiable so far but they exist and I’m loving every minute of it!! Julien, in my opinion, is a pretty great king ❤️

11 notes · View notes

lori-hime · 4 years ago

Text

I haven't written much about what I've been up to lately, so here's some word salad updates~ 🥗

NijiGaku Anime

So I started watching the new LL. I hadn't been keeping up with SIFAS' story, but I did read some of it when it first came out. I gotta say, I'm really enjoying all of the changes they decided to make for the anime version of the story, to both the characters and story. It's starting to feel like something coherent. The story in the game was ok, but the main thing that interested me was the interactions with Muse and Aqours, overshadowing the actual "plot" and even Nijigasaki themselves. But the anime really made me interested and excited about the story and characters again. I would be a little annoyed about the personality and dynamic changes, but honestly, I'm used to it by now. LL always ends up doing this sort of thing, and the personalities only seem to become solidified after the anime airs.

A little disappointed in Kasumi's change in some vague ways I don't really feel like describing, but honestly it balances out because Ayumu is fantastic now (previously one of my least cared for of the group.) Yu's personality is surprisingly super gay fun and I'm really excited for her and Ayumu's dynamic in particular. They're so cute. Seriously feel like I'm gonna ship them hard.

I also really like Rina's initial personality in this. Not only is she bad at expressing emotions through her face, but she also seems bad at expressing them through words too. I feel like this is gonna be much more interesting than her already being cutesy and genki like in the promo stuff and SIFAS.

When Karin was first shown, I had mixed feelings. At first I was like oh god I'm gay and she's beautiful. But the whole sexuality flaunting thing kind of put me off for several reasons I don't really wanna get into explaining. I really didn't know how to feel. I started liking her a little more during SIFAS, when she competed against Muse in DDR and lost... started feeling like I was getting a glimpse of her real personality without the whole sexy idol persona. Although not much has happened in the anime with her yet, she's giving me Nozomi vibes and I love it. I actually think if I had gone into this without previous knowledge of the characters, I'd be betting she'd become my fave for sure.

My list has gone from Kasumi > Rina > Kanata / Emma > Karin > Ai > Setsuna > Ayumu > Shizuku to Yuu > Ayumu > Kasumi / Karin > Rina > Kanata / Emma > Ai > Setsuna > Shizuku

Still biased a bit towards characters that have shown up more in the first two eps, so it'll undoubtedly change. But It's really interesting how much the characters I already felt I had good placements for changed so much.

Edit for episode 3, because I didn't post this fast enough. Student council speedrun was fantastic. Yu continues to be incredibly gay. I wonder how this episode will affect the ships people will gravitate towards. LL has always been a fairly monoship fandom, heavily gravitating towards specific pairs. Of course that's largely the fault of canon itself, often pushing and developing single ships. Well, I suppose we saw a big change with Aqours, though, especially with season two. But even then, the ships tended to stay at least between girls of the same year (aside from my rarepair, shout-out to YohaRiko.) Now, I wonder. From the very beginning, before Yu even had a name, it felt like they were really pushing the shippy stuff @ the viewer. I wonder if that’s still gonna be the angle. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it yet. I really want to see more YuAyu rather than YuSetsu, but I can't really be mad at more gay content unless they try to make it a DEEP story and then fail to resolve it but haha they'd NEVER do that, I'm sure!!

As for the others... I'm guessing they're gonna push RinAi, KarinEmma, YuuKasu, and maybe YuuShizu? My original guesses were that AiKarin would be a thing, evoking NozoEli v3. But I guess that'd be too predictable a third time. KarinEmma sounds like it could be cute and sweet, RinAi feels like it has adorable potential, and YuKasu vs. YuAyu sounds like it could have some good comedic rival-y potential, given they don't make Kasumi super serious about it and make it really angsty. Not that a cute idol show would ever do such a thing haha!!!!!

Higurashi Gou

Also started Higurashi. I doubt many people know this, but I used to be a major Higurashi fan before I got into Touhou. It was my main "fandom" I guess, even though there wasn't really that much of a fandom to interact with comparatively. Anyway, despite that, I didn't think I'd get into this remake super hard... but I'm really loving it so far. The art style is really pretty and eye candy, and it turns out it's a direct continuation of the story rather than a remake. Very excited to see where it's going, and also to see a lot of my baby Rena again.

An interesting difference to me as I'm rewatching are my feelings for Keiichi. While I don't hate him, over the years I've really grown tired of the generic male leads (especially in harem anime) like him. Of course, he's definitely not AS generic as they come, or maybe perhaps that's just my bias from when I used to really like him. The me back then found him unique enough to stand beside the girls. Nowadays, I definitely can't say the same. At least he doesn't grate on my nerves as much as most other harem anime protags do, however. I feel like despite lacking the quirks that make the girls so likeable and unique, he still has something going for him... perhaps the fact he's framed as inherently different from everyone else, because he comes from the city, and the way he acts a bit more realistically to the scary things that are happening. Although those things are obviously explained away later, at least for now I still accept him for what he is, old bias or not.

Genshin Impact

Been playing Genshin Impact religiously and loved every second of it. Though I've caught up with the main story content, so sadly it's slowed down. I'd never heard of this game before it came out, so I was absolutely wowed that such a game was f2p. I've heard a lot of people criticizing it because they added gacha in at the last minute, and I definitely understand being annoyed through the pov of someone who was anticipating it. But part of me is still really thankful that the game is free at all. I suppose that full but paid 60 dollar game would still be a better experience, but because of my non-existent budget situation, I may not have ended up playing it at all.

Aside from the arguably shitty monetization practices, however, the game is fantastic. It really is as similar to BoTW as people have mentioned, and I really appreciate that. BoTW, from a gameplay standpoint, is absolutely my favorite game. It's exactly what I want from any given game. So I really appreciated this. The story and characters of Genshin are also really interesting. I really like Qiqi, Venti, Fischl, and Xingqiu, among others. I spent a while rerolling for Qiqi or Venti 5*s, and eventually got an account with Qiqi. Venti on the other hand I've been trying to roll for but sadly haven't gotten. I have 1 roll left before the banner ends, so hopefully.. My friends whaled him for me. I swear I tried to stop them! I owe them my soul...

HoloLive, Pikamee & Vtubing

I briefly started getting into HoloLive a little while ago. After the Aloe stuff, I started worrying a bit about how the company handles these situations as well as the girls' freedoms and how much of their donation money they actually get.. (I made a post about it a while back.) After a while my worries died down a bit, but then came back full force with the Coco and Haachama situation. After that and one too many uncomfortable sexual jokes, I decided to just distance myself from HL. It's a shame, because I really enjoyed their personalities, but it was making me feel uncomfortable more often than not.

I told myself it’s fine, I’ve got Pikamee if I ever feel like watching vtubers again. And then like a week later... Well, it’s not really something I wanna talk about here, but she made some posts on twitter that made me too uncomfortable to continue watching her either.

On a much lighter note... A friend of mine showed us how to use prprlive and facerig to use the Touhou CB Live2D models, and Asa and I played around with Mokou, Kaguya, and Lyrica’s. It was quite fun, and I do look forward to using the Kaguya one for private streams on one of my servers. I’ve actually always wanted to try out vtubing stuff myself, but not really publicly. Of course, the costs for getting a model drawn and made specifically for me are too much for something I’m not really committing to, so this is perfect. I’m excited~

Touhou Cannonball & Kagura Thoughts

It’s been a long time since I talked about Touhou CB on my blog, and I’m pretty sure I left things on a pretty bad note. Mainly dissatisfied with Mokou’s portrayal for pretty shallow reasons on my part, despite they game having just started and having a lot of room to grow. And grow it did. While I quit pretty early in because of that, Asa decided to take over my account. She realized that it was pretty easy to upgrade any given character you had to a 5* without having to rely much on the gacha. She ended up playing a lot with the goal of upgrading everyone we had. I came back to it around July and actually had a lot of fun with it. The cast had gotten much bigger and we really enjoyed playing on multiplayer. It wasn't the best game ever from a gameplay standpoint, but it definitely had it's charm. The announcement of its death, although unsurprising, came at the worst time. Asa and I actually cried a little when we saw the announcement, ngl. The game had such good, wholesome, Touhouy vibes to it. Nonetheless, we made the most out of the last month or so after the announcement. We played a LOT of multiplayer and had a lot of really cute and good interactions with other players. Near the end, we realized that Lyrica was the only character from the normal banner we were missing, so we grinded like crazy (mostly Asa) to try to get her... we ended up getting a number of 5*s but none Lyrica... she eluded us to the very end. It was quite sad, but how hard we worked for it still felt satisfying somehow. We were able to max out our multiplayer level and complete a ton of goals we wouldn’t have otherwise.

So after this bittersweet experience with Touhou gacha, and all the scummy things I've been hearing about Lost Word, I've been thinking like... I'm done with Touhou gacha, at least for now. Don't wanna hear anything else about it for a good while. And then the 25th anniversary hits and they announce Kagura. Ugh. Please, give me a break. Needless to say, I'm gonna have to give it a try. Touhou is my life, I love rhythm games, I love Touhou music, and I love character collecting games. And I've been waiting for something to replace SIF gameplay in my heart for a long time. I'd banked my hopes on SIFAS but it's really barely a rhythm game so.... at least now that I've gone through CB's death and seen how cruddy LW is, I'll have lower standards and not get my hopes up too high.

If you got this far, thanks for reading my rambles and have a good day~

#loritalk #super long im sorry #there's even more stuff i wanted to talk about but it was already long enough as it is

7 notes · View notes

kendrixtermina · 5 years ago

Note

The "waifu bait" criticism of Edelgard is so dumb given that most of the cast is technically waifu/husbando bait in one way or another, they're all meant to appeal to players as romance options, and she's the only one getting flack for it. (Well, not the only one, there were some people giving Dimitri shit too for being "wish fullfillment for stupid teenage girls who think they can fix a man," but I see the complaint most often with Edelgard.)

Yeah. I mean, you can boink Rhea and Jeritza!

It’s not like satelite love interests aren’t a plague onto anime and fiction in general, but I only ever hear this “you only like them because they’re waifu/bishie” thing directed at characters who very much DO have personality, unique compelling features and plot relevance.

I’ve also seen this thrown at, say, Evangelion’s Miss Ayanami, as if all the fascinating sci-fi concept stuff and compelling narrative about finding your own worth and making a connection in a cruel lonely world wasn’t there - and at least we do see her through a “main character’s love interest” sorta lens. (I was thinking about how Byleth is actually quite similar, except more proactive with more of a dorky side, and less philosophical/reflective, but because Byleth is the MC we come off with a fairly different impression. )

Meanwhile with Edelgard they really didn’t pull any punches, the whole story is set in motion and dominated by her active choices, most the unique designs/outfits she gets are geared to look elegant/powerful. (Apart from the usual ‘individually wrapped boob armor would break your sternum’ thing but you’d really have to know physics for that/ could be fixed easily by making the fit more sweater-like), she has a specific discernable philosophy and makes impactful choices, that can genuinely be agreed or disagreed with.

You can’t swag her into your way of thinking - you can only ally with her under the presupposition that you already actively agree. (See all the people complaining that you cant “criticise her more”, expecting her to be like Dimitri basically even though they are exact opposites. You can only get on her route by making two deliberate choices. I mean they wrote this with your first playthrough in mind, in-universe you’re not there because you wanna complete all aroutes but because you actively chose to join her after she spent a year unsubtly trying to recruit you to her cause)

You don’t talk Claude out of his tactics either. (and forcing it all into this comparision often leads ppl to overlook that he has ambiguities or character development at all, maybe he isn’t vilified but he gets simplified and therefore wronged just as much in the end. They’re not all Dimitri. The whole point of having three or four different potential deuteragonists to choose from is that they’re different)… heck, even if you look at Dimitri, you only get him back to what he really wanted to do back in part I before his black-and-white thinking and exaggerated sense of duty got the better of him.

With all three, joining them eventually just enables them to get closer to their actual vision. Back when you meet her in Remire, Edelgard outright tells you that “with your power on my side, we could courttail the slitherer’s atrocities much more efficiently”. You don’t change her mind at all; You enable her to use “Plan A”. Same with Claude, who otherwise plains much more defensively both because he has less support and because he’s more jaded. And Dimitri essentially pulls a Sayaka, ie being unable to live up to his own unrealistic standards drive him to lose all hope and become the very opposite of the hero he wanted to be, but you do help him get back to that, or to a more balanced mature understanding of that.

The best proof of that is that the popularity poll numbers actually went down after the release, ie a lot of ppl who liked her just bc they liked her design were turned off that there’s a specific personality there that isn’t necessarily their type/ a MO they don’t necessarily agree with. Or all those peeps complaining that the S-support was too understated for them. Claude got that too - They’re just not the most open/expressive people in the world, one would think that after playing through their routes you would know and understand that. Whereas Dimitri has been super emotional from day one (which is both his greatest strength and greatest weakness), so it figures that he’d be more conventionally romantic.

- Hardly things that would happen if she were written to be “blandly pleasant”. I mean generally speaking she’s not the best as showing her feelings and when she does she’s often pretty blunt at it even with her closest friends (El: ”Hubert! I order you to tell me what it is you’re not telling me!” Hubert: [elegantly weasels out of answering] El: [after he’s left the room] I’m worried about him tho. )

Seems senseless to claim that she’s blandly pleasant when she’s absolutely gotten a love-it-or-hate-it-marmite-reaction all across the board. It also seems to go along with the implicit idea that everyone who likes her is heterosexual boys. I’m neither, and it’s not like heterosexual boys aren’t ever interested in “plot” or “writing” I mean geez. Though I would resist the temptation to fully ascribe it to things like that.

To an extent it’s simply confusion. “How can they like this thing that obviously sucks? Must be an ulterior motive”, whereas in reality ppl who like her have probably parsed what happened here differently to begin with (It depends greatly on how powerful you concluded Rhea was, ie, wether what Edelgard is doing is a conquest or a revolt. She certainly sees it as a revolt. Even today in the modern day most of us see revolts as legitimate, or at least, if they get overly destructive, as a fault of the bad government. Heck, there are many on this very site who would label all revolts legit by default (”eat the rich”, the more ‘original sin-like’ variants of privilege theory) which is further than I would go )

There certainly are a bunch of ‘cute’ scenes post holy-tomb scene and under the assumption that Edelgard is this my-way-or-the-highway type of person that many have her pegged as I can see how they might think that it “makes no sense” but that’s really down to wanting her not tp step outside of that idea they have of her. I mean even supervillains have silly everyday situations. Bin Laden loved Disney Movies, Hitler loved his dogs. By itself that has nothing to do with morality or likeability. It’s just being human. Supervillains blush, not because they’re not villains, but because they have blood vessels in their faces. It’s only logical that once you get close to someone and get them to trust you, you get to see more of their silly or vulnerable sides. It’s the same with Rhea. (except that the same people argue that having personable vulnerable sides at all makes Rhea good s of course it causes some cognitive dissonance when Edelgard also has them. I’ve yet to see ppl calling “waifuism” on Rhea (whom I would consider a full-fledged villain), and they shouldn’t - it’s characterization.) Same with ppl calling Edelgard a “manchild” for liking stuffed animals and sweets. She’s actually very mature and adult for her age, having some interests that aren’t super high-minded is just realistic and if you looked at her as a full 3D person who can have more than one trait you’d see that.

This also goes with that tendency of holding up AM as the gold standard complaining about the lack of AM-like plot that they completely miss the different but equally compelling character arcs in VW and CF. That’s not a lack of arc, that IS the arc, it’s just a different arc: We get to see this tough, in-control high-minded character who’d completely given up on the normal life she wanted so much and resigned herself to never being understood finding out that she is very much still capable of normalcy and humanity and finding friendship and love and I think that’s beautiful. It’s my jam.

And it’s meaningful precisely because it’s a change from only seeing the tough leader guise otherwise. Complaining about that is like complaining about getting to see Claude’s more wistful, dreamy, benevolent, not-entirely self-interest side in VW or claiming that the writing would be better if he were just a straight-up selfish trickster. Actually, if you removed their heroic traits you’d end up with a lot more generic characters. You’d simply get every wild card trickster ever, and every “Nietzschean” villain ever. It’s the fact that they’re unconventional heroes that makes Claude and Edelgard so unique, compelling and interesting. If you like conventional heroes, Dimitri is right here. Your basic heroic fantasy ‘rightful king returns/ soft peace loving hero’, plus your basic jrpg guilt-ridden angsty protagonist. I mean there’s good reason that these character archetypes are popular. Plus he’s especially well-executed and recontextualized by the contrast to the others, but there he is, enjoy him! We’re not stopping you.

It’s really Seteth who came up short arc wise. You could have given him an arc, the potential was there, he essentially transistions from protecting himself and his family to taking on his family’s heroic quest and rising up to that, but he doesn’t get like, a scene reflecting on that. Or you could’ve sent them on some mission to actually curb some corrupt cardinals etc, shown them actually reforming the church and realizing that it wasn’t all perfect, after all he very much knows that Rhea herself wasn’t all perfect.

For all that much of media is obsessed with making characters “hot”, the truth is that if people like them for any reason, they will find them hot anyways, regardless of whether that was the intention. (unless the people in question are aroace, or the character is a literal, realistic prepubescent child)

You don’t have to “make” a character hot for ppl to find them so.

#fire emblem: three houses #fire emblem three houses #fe3h #edelgard von hresvelg

43 notes · View notes

365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Sixty-Four: What You See ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, vulgarity, death, smoking ] [ Verse: Oil and Blood ] [ AO3 Link ]

Appearances can be deceiving.

For instance...Hinata had a teacher back in middle school who, for all intents and purposes, seemed a nice enough man. An active part of the community, well-liked by his students, and a staple part of the school in which he taught. He was lenient with those who needed it, and tough on those who he knew could do better.

But during her last year, when she was no longer in his class, a rather startling discovery was made.

On the run from another province, he was accused of murdering several middle school girls at his previous school. But with the help of underground cosmetic mods, he had his face changed enough to escape notice, starting a new life on the other side of the country where he could once again begin stalking students.

Thankfully he never had the chance - he was caught when a substitute for another teacher managed to recognize him despite the mods. He was arrested, and later imprisoned for his crimes.

From then on, Hinata knew better than to trust what face people put forward. What you see isn’t always true.

Which is what makes her newest...friend? so intriguing.

Since stumbling upon the half-dead man in an alleyway, Hinata has been unable to escape one Uchiha Sasuke: a member of the infamous yakuza currently overseen by his father. Having been beaten and stripped of his (rather expensive) mods, it was Hinata who, on an insomnia walk, hefted him from the refuse and took him to a doctor she knew.

And that was only the beginning of a bond that saw her kidnapped, nearly involved in a gunfight, and then marked as a target by the Uchiha group’s biggest rivals: the Senju.

Since then, it’s been Sasuke’s self-imposed mission to keep the woman safe as repayment for her kindness, and also for his failing to protect her when he first attempted to fulfill his debt to her.

Which means that outside work and her time spent at home...Hinata has been stuck with a rather interesting bodyguard.

Sasuke doesn’t hide what he is. Be it his mods, his tattoos, his smoking or his sometimes coarse language, he doesn’t shy from his title of gangster. He knows that what his family does is unlawful. Dangerous and harmful, even. But he does have at least one code of conduct: repay his debts.

Having someone like him in the presence of someone like Hinata makes a very strange pair indeed.

You see, Hinata’s father runs the largest Japan-based medical mod company. She was once heiress...before daring to call out his hypocrisy. She now lives in a tiny apartment in a rather...questionable part of town. Which is how she found Sasuke. And she works for a mod insurance claim company. Which, admittedly, she hates. But she does do her part of under-the-table dealing to help those who truly need it find underground care.

Hence her knowing the good doctor.

But it goes without saying that the pair of them going, well...anywhere together tends to draw some very confused gazes. After all, most wonder what on earth such a sweet looking young woman could ever be doing running around with someone like him.

Sure, Hinata hasn’t ever hurt anyone - in fact she herself has been the victim of violence more than once. But she does technically break the law rather often, given her redirection of insurance claims to illegal operations that go beneath the government radar. Sure, she does so for morally-just reasons...but it’s still illegal.

She wonders what people would think if they knew: that such a sweet, trustworthy, likeable face has been lying to her employer and her government for years now, costing them mountains of money with every customer or patient she reroutes into the less-than-legal channels.

Sure, it’s nothing compared to Sasuke’s repsheet, but...still, worse than most would assume just looking at her.

And the same, she feels, goes for Sasuke.

During their time together, she’s observed him as carefully as she can, not wanting to be caught snooping. It’s something she’s always been rather good at. Her eyes are pale enough that most people don’t notice them slid to their corners to watch them. Sasuke, so often, just seems so...normal. He drinks coffee with heavy cream (but no sugar - he doesn’t like bitter, but nor can he stand sweet). He’s taken to feeding the stray cats around her apartment building. She saw him completely interrupt traffic to help an elderly neighbor of hers cross to the proper street from her window on his way to see her once.

Sure, he might do bad things...but he isn’t a bad person.

After all, he’s doing what he’s doing for her out of a sense of honor. He could just flip her the bird and leave her to defend herself from the Senju, helpless. Maybe it’s wholly for himself, for upholding his code of ethics...but it doesn’t feel that shallow.

He doesn’t just stand around looking tough. He talks to her, argues with her, and even jokes with her...though his humor is bone dry. There’s been many a moment when she’s forgotten why he’s around. They bicker and banter like...friends.

...she’s almost forgotten what it’s like to have friends. High school was rather lonely, and her shuffle right into a dead-end job and a micro apartment didn’t really lend itself to making them. Sure, she and the doctor get on fairly well, but...they’ve only ever seen one another for business. Technically that’s the reason Sasuke’s around, but...it just feels...different.

...so maybe she’s not as annoyed by his playing knight as she was when it all first started.

“Now what are you doing?”

“Hm?”

Chin in a hand, Sasuke juts it slightly toward her. “You’ve been staring at your HUD for like fifteen minutes. I can’t see it, but I can tell.”

At his accusation, Hinata goes a light pink. “...uh…”

“Watching porn in public?”

“W-w-what?! No!” Her voice jumps several octaves, drawing the glances of other patrons. They’re currently seated in an outdoor section at the front of a cafe having coffee. Sasuke insisted he needed to refuel, and she never minds a cup herself.

He gives a cheeky, lazy grin, posture still lax. “Then what are you doing?”

“I’m...playing a game.”

“Oh? A game that involves staring at your HUD?”

“It’s...not the most interactive, sure. It’s more of a daily click sort of...t-thing.”

“Ah, gotcha. So you’re not really a gamer girl.”

At that, her lips purse in a pout. “Hey, I play games at home. This is just more...maintenance.”

“Sounds exciting.”

“It’s...cute. You collect cats.”

Immediately, something lightens in his expression, and his posture becomes a bit more attentive. “...oh yeah?”

She doesn’t miss all that, but suppresses a smile, not wanting to drive him off the subject. “Mhm. It’s an older game, Neko Atsume. People used to play it on their phones.”

Sasuke hums in acknowledgement...and something tells her he’s already on his HUD looking it up. She knows already how fond he is of cats. See the above mentioned strays he’s pseudo-adopted. “Sounds...boring, but cats are all right, I guess.”

“Like I said, it’s mostly a daily click sort of thing. You check to see what cats are around, w-what they’ve left you, if they took treats…”

His eyes flicker, and though she can’t see his HUD herself, she already knows what he’s looking at. “...huh.”

“Want to play?”

“I might. If I get bored enough.”

She just gently rolls her eyes.

...a week later, he approaches her with a scowl, and she actually braces herself for some kind of argument.

“What have you done?”

“I...w-what?”

“That stupid...cat game!”

She blinks.

“The whole damn syndicate is playing it now! I can’t stop checking it! We almost missed a raid because the wrong people got distracted!”

Before Hinata can stop it, a snort escapes her, both hands coming to cover her nose and mouth. Eyes go wide. “I...I’m sorry…?”

“I can’t believe this…”

“Sasuke-san, I...I didn’t mean to -?”

“I know,” he snaps, cutting her off...which she’s gotten used to. “...don’t introduce me to any more games. Got it?”

“O...okay.”

“Wasting all my goddamn time,” he mutters, lighting a cigarette and taking a frustrated drag. He gives her a halfhearted glare when she can no longer suppress her giggles. “If the Uchiha Yakuza falls it’s all gonna be your fault, I hope you know that. You and your damn cats.”

“I’m sorryyy!”

“No you’re not!”

“Yes I am!”

“Then why’re you laughing?”

She can’t reply, too caught up in her amusement.

To anyone looking on, they’d see a scowling, tattooed, heavily-modded man they’d immediately peg as a bad guy.

But Hinata knows better.

.oOo.

More of the cyberpunk AU! Not really anything plot-drive this time: more introspection about appearance, which DOES play a fairly big role in both their characters, and their world at large. With the ability to modify your looks, you can really put any face forward - literally. While neither of them have any real appearance mods (though Sasuke does have his eye mods), they still have traits that don't match their exterior! ...I'd...say more but it's very late. And ohhh man...just one more day to go. I hope y'all are ready for me to get super sappy on you tomorrow xD But for now, it's bedtime. Thanks for reading~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #vulgarity //#death //#smoking //#oil and blood [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

20 notes · View notes

roman-writing · 5 years ago

Text

two, across (8/8)

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Hilda Valentine Goneril / Lysithea von Ordelia

Rating: T

Wordcount: 14,256

Summary: Lysithea can barely keep afloat under the workload of giving undergrad lectures and finishing off her PhD thesis. Meanwhile Dr. Hilda V. Goneril is somehow both the laziest person as well as the most successful young professor she has ever known. It’s absolutely aggravating.

Author’s Note: Please be aware that one of the previous chapters has adult content, but that this chapter does not.

Read it here on AO3 or read it below the cut

According to Hilda -- whose opinion is the only one that counts in this matter, thank you very much -- they have been dating for over a year. It's very important that they've been dating this long, because Hilda has always refused to bring anyone home if she hasn't been dating them for at least a whole year. Meeting the family is no joke. Especially when it's her family.

They are big. They are loud. They are legion. And they are big. Did she already say they were big? Well, they are.

"Jesus, that man is big," Lysithea mutters under her breath.

Hilda glances around the airport terminal, and immediately spots him. It’s difficult not to. His head and shoulders stick out above the rest of the crowd waiting for loved ones to disembark.

He wears the same faded plaid and jeans combo from forever ago. Even though Hilda knows from experience that the clothing size is all XXL, he still manages to give the appearance that his broad shoulders and biceps will burst through the seams at the slightest provocation.

He sees her, and waves.

Returning the wave, Hilda sighs. She adjusts her pink-lensed sunglasses, and shoulders both her and Lysithea’s bags. “Yeah. That’s him alright.”

Hilda begins to stride through the crowd towards him. Lysithea trails along in her wake. “Wait. Seriously? That’s your brother?”

“I’m, like, ninety-nine percent sure.”

When they get close enough, Holst envelops Hilda in a hug that lifts her a good foot off the floor, crushing the air from her lungs. She grunts.

“It’s good to see you!” He places her back on the ground, but doesn’t let go of her shoulders. His brow furrows, and he gives her a once over. “Are you not eating enough? Look at you. Skin and bone.”

“Lay off, would you? You sound like Uncle Herrick.” Hilda shrugs his hands off, so she can readjust the bags before they fully slip down her arms.

“You know he and everyone else want to come over this weekend, right?”

“That better be a joke, Holst.”

“You rarely visit, and everyone wants to see the menagerie. Who am I to tell them they can’t see you?”

“I told you: no cousins! No uncles! Just you and dad!” As she lists them off, she drives a finger against one of his bulging pecs, and glowers up at him. “You two are enough to scare away potential suitors as it is.”

Holst is entirely unrepentant. “If they can’t handle me and dad, then there’s no way they could survive you.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Throughout the entire exchange, Lysithea has been standing to the side, watching them, silent. When Holst’s head swings in her direction, she blinks owlishly.

Everything Lysithea thinks, she wears on her face. Every thought. Every passing notion. Even from a distance, Hilda can always tell what's running through her head. If a student asks a question that Lysithea thinks is dumb, her tiny shoulders will hunch up around her ears like she's trying to physically restrain herself from saying aloud what she really thinks.

Hilda likes to play a game. It is a dangerous game. One that involves saying increasingly outrageous things just to see what new expression it might elicit on Lysithea's face.

So far, she is winning.

Right now, Lysithea looks belligerent. Her lower jaw is held forward the way it does when someone tall doesn’t notice her existence, and nearly walks over her. Hilda had seen that happen once in a grocery story. The man had fled from Lysithea’s wrath like a dog with its tail between its legs, while Hilda had gleefully witnessed the whole thing from the sidelines.

Holst must notice the look in Lysithea’s eyes, too, for he holds out his hand almost warily. “You must be Dr. Ordelia. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Holst.”

Immediately, the tension melts from Lysithea’s shoulders. She clasps Holst’s hand, and her own is utterly dwarfed by Holst’s massive paw. “Just Lysithea, please.”

Hilda rolls her eyes, and grumbles at her brother. “Wow. Really?”

Holst pulls his hand back, and gives her an innocent look. “What?”

“Why don’t you ever call me doctor? Huh?”

“I changed your diapers.”

“Well, whoop-de-fucking-do. You change one diaper, and suddenly twelve years of academic experience means fuck all.” Hilda tosses him one of the bags. “Here. Make yourself useful, Muscles for Brains.”

Holst catches the bags as though he had been expecting them to be flung at him much earlier. He smiles, and his teeth are as annoyingly perfect as ever. He has always looked like a poster boy for dentistry aimed at young veterans with hereditary gigantism. Square-cut jaw. Brown-eyed. Sandy-blonde hair that’s somehow immaculately coiffed and artfully messy all at once. She wants to ruffle his hair just to mess it up, but she knows it will only make him look better. Curse their good genes.

He draps an arm around her shoulders, and ignores her squawk of protest to pull her into another bear hug. He kisses the side of her face. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Duh. I’m amazing. And you need to shave.” She shoves at his face to very little effect. “Your stubble is all scratchy.”

Holst lets her go. He runs an experimental hand over his jaw. “Thought I’d go for a clean lumberjack look. Is it not working?”

“Do you have dad’s straight razor at the house?” Hilda asks, waiting for his nod. “I’ll fix you up tonight, then. Now, where are you parked? I need a shower and a change of clothes.”

Jerking his head, Holst begins walking in that same direction. “This way.”

He leads them out and across the parking lot. The pickup truck that he drives gleams like it is owned by a pampered business executive and not a jock wannabe. When Holst tosses one of their bags into the cab, he says, “You two packed light.”

“I had to smuggle seven extra outfits from Hilda’s bag when she wasn’t looking,” Lysithea says, pulling at one of the door handles to open it.

“And she let you live?” Holst lets out a long appreciative whistle. “She really must love you.”

“I like to think so.” Lysithea’s tone is dry, but she flashes Hilda a small smile that warms all the way down to her toes.

For all the vehicle’s oversized cab -- with factory made sides no less, which Hilda has always told him are useless because she’s right -- it has no proper backseat. Trust Holst to buy a utility vehicle with literally no utility upsides. He could fit a whole five more sheep in the tray if he’d bought the model she recommended. What a waste.

“Smallest goes in the middle,” Holst informs Lysithea as he climbs into the driver’s seat. “Normally that’s Hilda, but today it’s you. Them’s the rules.”

Lysithea shoots Hilda an incredulous glance. “You’re the small one in the family?”

“The littlest of them all,” Holst confirms with a grin.

Hilda gives him the middle finger, which only succeeds in making his grin widen. She clambers into the vehicle after Lysithea, who is small enough that she needs a boost to get her up the first step.

“She’s also the only girl. Various aunts who married into the family don’t count,” Holst adds while he does up his seatbelt.

“This explains so much,” Lysithea says in an almost wondrous tone.

“Yeah.” Hilda slams the door behind her. “Like how it’s a miracle that I turned out so awesome when I was raised by these bozos.”

Holst doesn’t start the car until everyone’s seatbelts are in place. He checks, like an absolute dad. Only then does he turn the key in the ignition. The engine rumbles to life.

“Excuse me,” he murmurs politely to Lysithea as he reaches for the gear stick. It’s between her knees, and she has to widen her legs a bit so he can throw the truck into gear.

“How far is your family’s place from the airport?” Lysithea asks.

“Forever,” Hilda answers, already gazing out the window in glum anticipation of the long drive.

“About three hours.” Holst flicks on the radio. “Middle seat gets control of the tunes. Don’t let Hilda bully you into picking a pop station.”

“At least there’s one upside to this seat.” Lysithea reaches forward and begins fiddling with the dials. She switches from the news station that Holst prefers and which never fails to bore Hilda out of her mind.

Hilda could have kissed her. Then, remembering that she is allowed, she does just that. She leans over to press a quick smooch to the side of Lysithea’s head.

Lysithea does not stop scrolling through various radio stations. “What was that for?”

“What? Is it against the rules to shower my super cute girlfriend with affection?”

“It is when I’m in the car,” Holst grumbles. He pulls on the steering wheel to round a corner, clearly indicating for the full three seconds as legally required.

At that, Hilda taps on Lysithea’s shoulder. “C’mon. Make out with me.”

Not even bothering to look away from the radio, Lysithea pushes Hilda’s face away with one hand.

Holst chuckles. “Okay. I like you already.”

“I’m very likeable,” Lysithea fires back without a moment’s hesitation. She tunes the radio to a classical station.

Holst’s expression brightens. He does not take his eyes off the road. “Oh! Mendelssohn!”

With a great groan of complaint, Hilda leans her head against the window. “Oh my god. I’m going to die in this dumb truck before we even make it to the hills.”

Her brother and her girlfriend start chatting about classical music, which is normally enough to send Hilda directly to sleep. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Except that now it’s noon, and she’s already had two cups of burnt coffee on the plane. Her leg jitters with caffeine. It’s going to be a long journey home.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Hilda is bored. She plays with the lock mechanism on her door, flicking the switch over and over in various patterns in time with the music. She makes it into a game, trying to find the best rhythm.

“I’m amazed Hilda hasn’t tried to wrest power from the Radio Throne yet.”

Lysithea smooths an absent-minded hand over Hilda’s jean-clad knee. “She can pick the next station in an hour.”

“Thank god,” Hilda mutters.

"Since you clearly have witch-like powers -" Holst begins. "No offence. I am simply stating a fact."

"None taken," Lysithea says.

"But since you clearly have witch powers, then perhaps you can convince Hilda to write to me more often."

Hilda locks and unlocks the car door a few more times. "I told you: I'm busy."

Holst lifts one hand from the wheel to mime little air quotes. "Busy. Is that what we're calling it these days?"

"Just because I take the time to look after myself doesn't mean I'm not working on a squillion things at once. It's called 'work life balance.' Look it up."

"Never heard of her," Lysithea says.

Hilda sticks out her tongue at Lysithea. "Yeah, I know you haven't, Miss Workaholic."

"That's Doctor Workaholic, I'll have you know." Lysithea turns back to Holst. "And I'll see what I can do."

"Traitor," Hilda says.

It's not that she doesn't like receiving a constant stream of letters from her brother. It's just that he always comes off as so needy. She would rather be blonde than appear needy.

Lysithea points to Holst. "Is that also Hilda's original hair colour?"

Holst nods. He runs a hand through his hair, which only makes it appear even more artfully disheveled. "It sure is. She's had it dyed different colours since the age of -- oh, I don't know -- thirteen?"

"Are there pictures?"

At that, Hilda snaps upright from her slumped position. She rounds on Holst with murder in her eyes.

He ignores her, like someone with a death wish. "So many pictures. I'll show you when we get there."

"Thank you. I'd like that," Lysithea tells him.

Hilda mouths at Holst over Lysithea's head. 'I'll kill you.'

She grunts when Lysithea elbows her lightly in the gut. "Don't be a hypocrite," Lysithea drawls. "I've heard it's very last season."

Before long, the cityscape outside gives way to sparse towns, then to nothing but trees and mountains as far as the eye can see. Which isn’t very far. A cold mist clings to the peaks, and flecks the windows as they begin to ascend. Slowly. Painfully slowly. Holst may be the proud owner of a douchebag truck, but he takes every switchback like he’s an old lady driving on the edge of a cliff. If she were the one driving, it would only take them two hours to reach the house.

Hilda isn’t allowed to drive with him in the car for a reason. But she only almost killed them on the road once! And it wasn’t her fault!

Okay, maybe four times. So what?? He’s such a big baby.

When Hilda begins to rummage through the glove compartment to find new means of entertainment, Lysithea absently reaches over to take her hand. Toying with Lysithea’s fingers provides enough distraction for exactly twelve minutes, at which point Hilda bends down to shuffle through her handbag for her phone. She unlocks the screen.

No reception. Fucking typical.

Flinging the phone back into her bag, Hilda crosses her arms with a huff. “For the love of god, please tell me you’ve installed wi-fi at the house.”

Holst pauses in his animated discussion of seventeenth century syncopation with Lysithea to say, “Sorry. You’re going to have to actually interact with family during your visit. It’ll do you good. You spend too much time on your phone as it is.”

Hilda buries her head in her hands.

She feels Lysithea pat her on the shoulder in a commiserating fashion. “Do you want to pick the radio station?”

Immediately Hilda’s head jerks up. “Yes.”

Lysithea lets her pick the music the rest of the ride into the mountains, and it’s the best because Holst can’t complain even though Hilda can see his jaw twitching in that way that means he desperately wants to go back to his boring news talk show. But middle seat picks the radio station. Them’s the rules. And if middle seat says Hilda gets to pick the radio station, then that’s set in stone, baby.

Hilda perks up when she finally spots the sign for the village of Locket, which heralds the last twenty minute stretch of drive to her family’s house. The afternoon has well and truly set in now. Hilda’s stomach growls at the sight of the local pub on the street corner. Its familiar faded sign is comforting in the way only unchanging things can be.

People wave at Holst’s truck as they trundle along the main drag. Despite the mist still dampening the cool air, Holst stops the truck and rolls down his window at one point to exchange neighborly words with Uncle Henrick’s youngest boy, who Hilda remembers best as a sulky nine year old.

“Who’s that?” Lysithea whispers for Hilda’s ears alone.

“A cousin. I’m related to basically everyone in this valley.” Hilda waves out the window as her cousin peers inside. “Hiya, Hayden!”

Hayden tips his cap back to get a better look at them. “Oh, hey, Hilda! Holst mentioned you’d be back in the area.”

“Just for the weekend,” Hilda confirms.

“That’s a shame.”

Hilda lowers her voice so that Hayden and Holst can’t hear, “It really isn’t.”

Holst pulls away from the curb, not because someone is behind him -- there aren't enough people in Locket to rustle sheep let alone the will to use a car horn. Besides, chances are that if you honked at somebody, you'd get a telling off from your mother for being shitty to a cousin later that night over dinner. That or you just get into a good honest blood feud over firewood during wintertime.

No, the reason why Holst hurries along is because the sun is starting to set on the mountains to the west, and dad can't cook for himself anymore. Holst apologises to Hayden for as much, and Hayden waves them along with the promise to talk to Uncle Herrick for them about rotating some of the cows over to another field for grazing.

Hilda hates that she knows exactly what they're talking about. Hell, her first ever degree was in large animal sciences before she realised that she never wanted to stick her arm up a cow ever again, thank you very much.

The truck trundles along through the village. The main drag of Locket is the only paved road in these parts. Holst turns left and onto dirt. For all that Hilda berates her brother for his poor taste in vehicles, at least his truck can take all terrain.

The side of her head bounces against the window, dislodging her sunglasses. "Are you trying to hit every pothole between here and the moon?”

“You know it's impractical to gravel everything apart from the driveway,” Holst counters.

Their bodies sway as he hits yet another pothole. Hilda adjusts her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose with a huff of irritation.

“I thought it was cute,” Lysithea says. “The town, I mean.”

“Village,” both Holst and Hilda say at the same time.

“It’s not a town,” Holst clarifies, when Lysithea gives them each an odd look.

Hilda nods, but only because the truck’s tyres are bobbing her up and down like a jackhammer. “Town is where the bigwigs live. Or, as we like to call them: ‘townies’.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lysithea mutters under her breath. “How many people actually live out here?”

“About .09 people every hectare. Which is to say: three hundred and seven inhabitants,” Holst answers.

Hilda’s eyebrows shoot up over the rims of her sunglasses in surprise. “Oh, shit? Who died? Was it Great Uncle Hartwig? My money was on Great Uncle Hartwig.”

“You are vulgar for taking part in that betting pool.”

“But was it him?”

“No, it was not.”

Hilda raps her knuckles against the dashboard. “Damn.”

“Yes, we are all very sad that Great Uncle Hartwig is still alive,” Holst says dryly.

The dirt road twists and turns all along the hills. They pass paddocks full of cows and mobs of sheep. The grass is so green it makes Hilda glad she'd brought her sunglasses, even though the sunlight is hidden behind the thick mist that shrouds the mountains.

Holst rounds another bend, and the dirt road gives way to gravel. They drive along for another minute before the house finally comes into view.

The house is everything that Hilda is not. Rustic, and tidy, and homey. It’s why she always frequents Claude’s bar. She likes the woodsy feel. It makes her feel at home.

Also, Claude is cute, and good company, with great taste in little underground live bands. Plus the drinks are killer.

Hilda undoes her seatbelt, and hops out of the truck before Holst even had time to shut off the engine. She offers a hand to help Lysithea down, and then reaches into the back for their bag. One of the herding dogs comes hurtling from the house towards them, and Hilda has to shoo it away.

"No, Brindle! Down! Brindle! This is Gucci!!" Hilda pushes the dog away before it can make a complete mess of her outfit, but it's too late. There's already dog fur ingrained into the fabric of her black slacks. She sighs in resignation.

Lysithea pets the dog when it snuffles around her feet, its tail wagging excitedly. She quickly retracts her hands, though.

“Oh.” Lysithea scrunches up her nose. “He’s quite filthy.”

“He’s one of our working dogs,” Hilda points out. “We don’t let him in the house. I would recommend washing your hands before eating.”

Lysithea is already wiping her hands off on her skirt. “Noted.”

Holst is the first in the house. He bellows their arrival with a single "We're home!!" while taking off his boots in the narrow hallway that acts as an atrium. While Hilda and Lysithea are taking off their own shoes, they can hear another voice from further inside the house calling back to them.

Hilda sets their bags down before walking further along. She makes sure Lysithea is following while they traverse the familiar twists and turns of the sprawling single-story farm house. Everything is wood accented. The white-painted walls and panelled floors and exposed beams. Everything is also properly sized for Hilda's family, which means that Lysithea looks like a pale doll walking through a human house. All of the shelving is higher, all the pictures hung at a level where Hilda and Holst can see but which Lysithea has to crane her neck to simply catch a glimpse of. And when they enter the living room, all of the furniture is massive.

Dad sits on his old leather armchair in front of the television. A stack of books and magazines are piles precariously at his elbow. An empty cup of tea teeters atop one the books. The television is on, but his gnarled fingers fumble with the remote for a few seconds while he figures out how to mute it without stabbing a million other buttons at the same time.

Her father struggles to his feet. He has to push himself up from the chair, painstakingly slow. Hilda bites back the urge to help him; he would’ve hated it. Watching him makes her chest tighten, as though her sternum is trying to meld with her spine.

He used to stand taller than Holst and just as broad. Her memories of him are always of a man with energy and exuberance to spare. Now he stoops. His hands shake, his fingers gnarled and worn to the bone beneath skin that’s paper-thin.

Hilda hugs him as soon as he’s on his feet. He pats her on the back, then uses a heavy hand on her shoulder to steady himself.

“You’re taller,” he says.

“You’re shorter,” she replies.

He squints at her, as though suspicious. His eyes are magnified behind the thick lenses of his glasses. Hilda dreads the day that her own eyesight deteriorates to that stage. Dior does not make prescription glasses that thick. Her amassed collection of sunglasses is already in need of a fresh trip to the optometrist as it is.

His gaze swings past her and lands on Lysithea, who stands behind Hilda. He nods at her, a jerky motion more than anything else, and says, "You must be Hilda's new beau."

Lysithea clears her throat. "Ah. Yes. Hi."

"What he means to say -" Hilda fills in for her dad, "- is 'It's so nice to meet you, Hilda's super cute and awesome girlfriend! My name is Harald! Welcome to my ancestral home, where generations of Gonerils have been born and raised!"

"Don't call me Harald," Harald grumbles.

"Dad. It's your name."

"It makes me sound old."

"You are old."

"Months without visiting, and then two minutes at home and already you slander your poor martyred father." He gestures at Lysithea and then at Hilda. "You see what I have to put up with?"

Hilda puts her hands on his wrists. "Okay. I'm going to drop you to the floor now."

"My point exactly." Rather than complain, he pats at her arms. "Help me back into my seat."

She does. It takes a while. His legs don't want to support him properly, and his back doesn't seem to want to bend.

"Where’s your cane?" Hilda asks, when she's finally got him situated back in his chair. She turns to where Holst is leaning in the kitchen doorway. “Holst, where’s his cane?”

Holst shrugs. “I saw it before I left.”

From the sidelines, Lysithea reaches behind a chair and produces a darkly polished wooden cane. “Is this it?”

Hilda takes it, and props it against the armrest of her dad’s chair. “Stop losing this.”

“It makes me look old.”

“Oh my god. Dad.”

He ignores her. "Hilda, go help your brother make dinner."

Hilda whines, "Holst doesn't need my help. He's fine."

"Actually -" Holst begins from the kitchen doorway.

"Nobody asked you," Hilda says. Then she grabs the bags she had set on the ground. "Besides. I need a shower, and to give my girlfriend a tour of the place."

Dad grumbles, but he's now expended too much energy trying to sit back down to really argue. Once upon a time she would have needed to really wheedle her way out of making dinner, but these days all it takes is for her to be out of sight. Dad can't go racing after her anymore and haul her back over his shoulder to do chores while she pounds her tiny fists ineffectually against his back. Though in truth she wishes he still had that mobility. Seeing him like this is far worse.

Hilda tilts her head to one side, "C'mon. My old room is this way."

"It was nice meeting you," Lysithea says to Harald, who waves her away with a brief smile.

Hilda has already started off down the hall, and Lysithea trots after her. Behind them they can hear the sound of the television starting up again in the living room. Hilda nods towards various doors and rooms as they go, giving a running notation of what everything is.

"That's the master bedroom. Dad sleeps there. Holst's room is over there. There's the downstairs bathroom for the living room. Here’s my room. It has its own ensuite bathroom, so we don’t have to fight Holst for it.”

“Let me guess -” Lysithea steps into the bedroom, which looks exactly as Hilda remembered. “-They gave you your own bathroom because you spent so much time in it that nobody else could use it.”

“I am insulted you would even suggest such a thing!” Hilda tosses their bags onto the bed, and begins to unpack.

“That doesn’t mean: no.”

“Anyway!” Hilda changes the topic by gesturing to the room at large while she hangs her outfits in the closet. “This is where I grew up. Surrounded by farmland sans internet. Starved for culture.”

Lysithea joins her in unpacking. “You’re being a bit dramatic.”

“Who? Me?” Hilda pulls out her spare hair dryer, along with a whole host of emergency make-up supplies that were packed alongside Lysithea’s medication case. “But seriously, though. The nearest library is an hour away by car. And that’s only if the rain hasn’t flooded the main road into Locket.”

“Where’s the school?”

“With the library,” Hilda answers from the bathroom.

She arranges all of her supplies, and sets down Lysithea’s travel cup on the sink counter so that Lysithea can use it for her morning Routine. When she emerges from the bathroom, Lysithea has neatly unpacked the rest of their things in all the exact places that Hilda likes them to be.

Hilda points in the direction of the kitchen. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

Mischief crosses Lysithea’s face, and she says, “No, thank you.”

Hilda narrows her eyes. “What?”

With a nonchalant shrug, Lysithea says, “Nothing! I just saw all those picture frames over the fireplace earlier.”

For a moment, neither of them move or say anything. Then, Lysithea makes a dash for the bedroom door. She’s out before Hilda can close her in, and prevent her from seeing said photos. Hilda almost catches her in the hallway, but Lysithea’s height means she’s slippery and sly and difficult to grab hold of.

Harald barely even glances up when the two of them barrel into the living room. Everything in this house is Goneril-Proof anyway. They couldn’t break things if they tried. And Hilda and Holst had tried before. Many many times.

On the mantlepiece over the smoke-blackened fireplace, there are a host of picture frames cluttering around the riverstone chimney. Lysithea makes a bee line for them. Most are family reunion pictures. The family is too large to photograph altogether, so they are sectioned off by age group. Hilda is the only girl amidst a mountain of boys.

“Tell me about this one,” Lysithea demands as she picks one up.

With a sigh, Hilda relents and does just that.

There are a few other more personalised pictures. Hilda points to each of the ones that Lysithea asks about. There's mom looking young with her sandy-blonde hair before the cancer took care of all that at the age of fifty-two. There's her parents getting married. There's Holst at his first shooting competition. There's a baby picture of Hilda all swaddled up (and the cutest image on the shelf, if she does say so herself).

Hilda tells stories about each of her cousins. Dad pipes in from the peanut gallery to add corrections or embellishments. About how Hans busted her tooth when they were kids and had to share a bed. About how she waged war on the boys by weaponising cow pats. How she would do anything to win -- scratch, bite, cry, you name it.

Lysithea leans forward on her toes to observer a photo down the back. It's a picture of Hilda at the age of twelve, a baby-faced version of herself that she hardly recognises. Dad had snapped it after her first successful hunt with Holst. The two siblings are frozen in a pose over a freshly killed buck. Holst is looking at her rather than at the camera, a broad smile splitting his face in two.

In the picture, Hilda is caught mid sentence. She holds the rifle easily at her shoulder. Her jeans are torn at the knees. Her hair is dishwater blonde and loosely gathered in a simple ponytail at the base of her neck. Her plaid is baggy and rolled up at the sleeves to reveal her scrawny forearms. Her chest is covered in a high-vis vest. A pair of Holst's dark sunglasses are perched atop her head. She used to always steal them when she was younger.

Slowly Lysithea picks up the picture. "You look so different."

"Ugh. I know. It's awful."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Please. Look at me. I'm wearing -" Hilda shudders in disgust, "- sneakers."

Lysithea’s thumb traces over the edge of the picture frame. “I would’ve liked to have known you then.”

Hilda snorts. “No. You don’t. Trust me. I was a little shit.”

“And you aren’t anymore?”

Making a face at Lysithea, she continues. “Very funny. Besides, you would’ve been, like, seven. And even if you had been my age, I probably would’ve picked on you so hard.”

“I doubt that.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Edelgard would’ve had me assassinated.”

With a huff of laughter, Lysithea says, “I can’t imagine you being mean to me in any lifetime.”

“Listen. That’s flattering. Really. But I’ve seen pictures of you when you were younger, remember? And I know what I was like back then.” Hilda picks up another photo, this one of Holst holding Hilda in one arm, and the Commonwealth championship trophy she’d won at the age of fourteen in the other. Her hair is dyed a sickening electric blue in the photo, and her makeup is way way over the top.

“Alright, then. I’ll bite.” Lysithea gestures with the picture in her own hand. “Why would you have picked on me?”

“Because you were so cute. Obviously. I mean you still are,” Hilda assures her, to which Lysithea just rolls her eyes. “But back then, I would’ve been super jealous. And also very in the closet to myself.”

“Ahh,” Lysithea nods in understanding. “You’re were one of those.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got over it. Thank god. Still took me until the age of sixteen or so to realise I wasn’t jealous of other girls, I just wanted to kiss them. And their boyfriends. You know. Because I’m not a coward.”

Placing the picture back on the mantlepiece, Hilda scrunches up her nose. She runs her finger along the varnished wood, and it comes up with a thick layer of dust. “Ew. Nobody ever cleans around here while I’m gone!”

“At least it’s tidy,” Lysithea points out. She places the other picture back, and discreetly wipes the dust from her own fingers off on her cardigan.

“What’s the point of things being tidy if they’re not clean? Excuse me. I need to go yell at my brother for polishing his Olympic medals, but nothing else.” Hilda turns and starts to march towards the kitchen.

In the end, she does wind up helping with dinner despite her best protests. Lysithea is no help, either. When Hilda pokes her head from the kitchen, it’s to find that Lysithea has sat down on one of the couches and is engaged in conversation with dad. And they seem to be having -- Hilda has to check her sunglasses to make sure they’re the right prescription -- a good time. Unbelievable.

Hilda’s only consolation is that she manages to weasle her way out of doing the dishes. She only feels slightly guilty when Lysithea and Holst do them together, chatting all the while. She did end up doing the bulk of the cooking, after all. No matter what Holst claims.

Instead, Hilda wanders back to her room for a shower. Short, because the hot water tank at the farm doesn’t last long, and she doesn’t want dad yelling at her on the first day of the trip. When she emerges from the bathroom amidst a billow of steam and wrapped in nothing but two towels -- one for her body, the other for her hair -- Hilda pauses in the doorway.

Lysithea is curled atop the bed. Her legs are folded beneath her. She reads from a tablet loaded with more books than are contained in most libraries. Hilda knows. She's seen Lysithea's online library account.

Hilda crosses the room, and jumps onto the free side of the bed. Lysithea does not look up despite the mattress bouncing beneath Hilda's weight. She is utterly engrossed in whatever book she is reading.

"Whatcha reading?" Hilda asks. She takes off the towel wrapped atop her head, and pats her hair dry before tossing it back towards the bathroom.

The tips of Lysithea's ears go an appealing apple red. "Nothing of interest."

Hilda immediately zooms in on the blush. It must have been a smutty book, in that case. "Oh, really? That's a shame."

Letting her hand smooth over one of Lysithea's knees, Hilda pretends that it's an idle motion. All the while she watches for a change in Lysithea's expression. The white stockings are fine beneath Hilda's palm. The corner of Lysithea's mouth twitches, and Hilda lets her fingers trail a little further up Lysithea's thigh. Just far enough to play with the edge of her skirt.

Still, Lysithea makes no comment. She continues reading in a valiant effort to ignore Hilda.

"Soooo," Hilda drawls. Her hand continues to stroke along Lysithea's leg, but never too high to be considered indecent should they be happened upon by snooping older brothers. “Is my humble family abode everything you’d imagined and more?”

Lysithea taps at her tablet screen to turn the page in her book. “It sure is something.”

“Wow. Yikes. That bad, huh?”

“No, not bad. Just different. Not what I expected, knowing you.”

“Would I fit in better if I wore cowboy boots and assless chaps?”

“I think you would rather die than be caught wearing something like that.”

“You underestimate the lengths I will go to for a bad joke.”

Lysithea snorts in amusement, and turns another page. “Well, if you do, then let me know. El would love a picture.”

“Oh, I’m sure she would.”

A comfortable silence falls over them. Hilda memorises the pattern of the stocking beneath her hand. "I'm bored."

"Sucks for you."

"Can I go down on you?"

“Didn’t you just take a shower?”

“Yeah? And?”

Lysithea glances at her over the top of the tablet. Then she eyes the door. "How thin are these walls?"

Hilda taps her knuckles against the wall behind their bed. "Like bedrock."

From another room, they hear Holst sneeze. Clear as a bell.

"Surface bedrock," Hilda amends. "Compacted gravel, even. Okay, maybe more like asbestos. But that’s still a rock!"

Lysithea purses her lips, but there's a considering air to that particular furrow in her brow. It's the same expression she wears when she's offered one slice of cake too many, but is still tempted to eat.

"We don't have to," Hilda assures her. She swings her legs over the side of the bed. "I can go blow off steam by splitting wood."

"Is that a euphemism?"

"Nope." Hilda jerks her thumb towards one of the night-darkened windows. "There's an axe and a bunch of logs out back near the porch light. Out here, we always need firewood."

Just as she’s about to take a step towards the door, Hilda feels something pull at the edge of the towel. She turns. Lysithea has reached out and is pulling her back towards the bed. The towel is tugged free, and falls to the floor. Lysithea’s eyes have an intense look that never fails to make Hilda’s pulse spike.

When Hilda flops back onto the bed beside her, Lysithea sets her tablet aside. She rolls over to straddle Hilda’s waist, steadying herself with hands at Hilda’s chest.

“You’re going to have to be quiet,” Lysithea warns.

“I can be quiet! Can you?”

As it turns out, they both can. But one of the pillows suffers for it.

Holst cooks breakfast the next morning. Hilda has to cut up dad's food for him, while bickering with her brother over the radio station, and Lysithea queries Harald about the farm. By the time Hilda is actually able to sit down and eat, her own food has gone cold.

Holst slides a cup of hot tea her way. "Here."

"Thanks," she sighs, taking a sip despite its scalding temperature.

Holst lumbers into the spare seat beside Lysithea. He gently bumps her elbow with his own as he tucks into breakfast. "I thought you might like to go shooting this afternoon."

Lysithea blinks at him. "I've never handled any sort of firearm before."

"Don't worry. Hilda and I can show you the ropes." Holst winks at his sister. "Unless she's so rusty from living in town, that she can't tell which way to point the barrel."

In response, Hilda meets his gaze with a steely expression. "Oh, you're on, pretty boy."

"Excellent. I love wiping the floor with you."

"As if. I'm going to win, and I'm going to do it in style."

Chewing at his eggs and toast, Holst takes a moment to swallow before speaking. He gestures at Hilda with his fork. "You're not really going dressed like that, are you?"

Hilda rakes a hand through her long pink hair. "I said what I said."

He snorts. "Yeah. Alright. Sure."

"You couldn't rock this look, let alone do it while shooting."

Holst's chewing slows. He leans back in his seat, and pats at his mouth with a napkin. "Is that a challenge?"

She grins at him. "You bet your ass it is."

Dad stabs at his own eggs with a fork, and mumbles to Lysithea, "They've been this way since forever. You get used to it."

"If you say so," Lysithea says. She watches from the sidelines with an expression that is intrigued, but in a wary way. Like she half expects there to be bloodshed by the end of the day.

Rising to his feet, Holst tosses down his napkin. He points at Hilda. "You. Me. Bathroom. Now. Bring your girly hair products."

"Oh, fuck yes," Hilda breathes, shoving herself away from the table to stand.

"Is this really a good idea?" Lysithea asks.

Neither Hilda nor Holst are listening. They are already racing each other to the restroom. Hilda has to take a diversion to shuffle around in her old room for the hair dye she had left behind from her last visit. After a minute or two of searching, she finally finds what she's looking for, and pushes her way into the bathroom, where Holst is draping a towel around his broad shoulders and getting his hair wet in the sink.

"Bleach first," Hilda instructs, leaning over the sink to help him. "We need to get your hair a lighter shade before putting any colour in."

He doesn't even ask what colour she'd picked. "Do your worst, Dr. Gonorrhea."

She brandishes the little bottle of bleach at him. "Call me that again. I dare you."

By the time they finish dying his hair, it's two in the afternoon. Hilda wields a hairdryer and a brush. Not that he needs to have his hair styled. Somehow, it always comes up perfect.

Holst admires himself in the mirror after she has finished. He runs a hand through his hair, which is now the same shade as her own. "Not bad."

“You’re welcome.” Hilda ruffles his hair, which only makes him look rakishly tousled.

Leaning in the doorway, Lysithea says, "Now you two look like twins."

"Could be worse, I guess," Hilda shrugs and puts the hairdryer away. "Let's go shoot something."

They take Holst's truck to an empty paddock facing the hills. There's already an Olympic sized skeet range in place there. Dad had installed it years and years ago, and Holst had been maintaining it ever since.

Hilda takes out the munitions box, while Holst handles the soft shotgun cases. Lysithea follows after them with a wary expression when Hilda hands over hearing protection.

"Keep them on unless the range master declares the range closed," Hilda says.

Lysithea immediately puts the hearing protection over her head and ears. "Who's the range master."

"Me," both Hilda and Holst say at the same time.

Holst pulls a coin from his pocket. "Heads or tails?"

"Tails."

He flips it. Glimmer of gold and aluminium, which he snatches out of the air and slaps onto the back of his hand.

Tails.

Hilda pumps her fist in triumph.

“And what exactly does it mean to be a range master?” Lysithea asks slowly.

“It means you have to do everything I say.”

“It means she’s in charge of the safety of the range until she leaves.” Holst starts taking firearms from their bags and propping them up on the stands beneath the firing platform awning. “And that we have to do everything she says.”

“Surely not everything,” Lysithea says.

Hilda points at Holst without looking at him. “Give me five push ups.”

Lysithea watches in horrified fascination as Holst sighs, drops to the ground, and does five push ups.

“See?” Hilda says smugly. “It’s rule number five. Which brings me to the next point: Safety.”

Holst finishes setting up while Hilda gives Lysithea the ‘Goneril Family Gun Safety Talk.’ 1) No pointing guns at other people even if unloaded, or you get a punch to the mouth. 2) No pointing guns in any direction other than down the range, or you get a punch to the mouth. 3) Treat every firearm as if it’s loaded, or you get a punch to the mouth. 4) No alcohol or other intoxicants on the range, or you get a punch to the mouth. 5) Obey the range master at all times, or the range master will personally punch you in the mouth.

“Why is there so much punching in this?” Lysithea asks after number five. “This seems like the opposite of safety.”

“It’s part of the time honoured traditions of the Goneril Family of Idiot Boys and Also Hilda,” Hilda says, still holding up her hand where she had been ticking off each rule on her fingers. “Lastly, number six: only load a firearm when ready to fire, or you -”

“- Okay. Yeah. I get it.” Lysithea says.

“Good!” Hilda claps her on the shoulder and steers her towards the platform. “You’re first.”

“W-Wait. Me?” Lysithea glances at one of the shotguns as though it will suddenly rear up and bite her.

“Relax. It will be fun. I promise.” Hilda puts on her own hearing protection, the muffs bright red. “Range open!”

Holst immediately follows suit. His own pair of ear muffs are the same colour and brand, but older and faded from years of use. He drops down into a chair behind them, folding an ankle over his opposite knee, watching with the claybird machine remote in his hand. When Lysithea shoots him a nervous look, he flashes her a thumbs up and a grin.

Under Hilda's instruction, Lysithea sets the shotgun firmly into her shoulder. Hilda uses her hands to guide Lysithea's legs apart so that her stance is more stable, and then places her hands on Lysithea's waist to steady her.

"Whenever you're ready. Just tell Holst to pull, and go for the claybird." Hilda gently squeezes Lysithea's hips. "And remember: try to keep your movements fluid. Track the target."

"Shouldn't we be starting off with something stationary?" Lysithea asks.

"Animals aren't stationary when you shoot them for the most part. Now, go ahead."

Hilda can feel Lysithea take a deep breath. Lysithea shrugs at the firearm, and then barks out firmly, "Pull."

There's a two second delay before the target zips across the air. Lysithea fires immediately, flinching from the shotgun before she has even pulled the trigger. She would've been blown back onto her butt if Hilda hadn't been standing directly behind her.

Lowering the shotgun, Lysithea rubs at her shoulder with one hand. "Ow."

"You get used to it," Hilda assures her. "This is a pretty light shell as well. Tuck the shotgun into the meat here -" she rubs at the right spot on Lysithea's shoulder. "- and lean into it a bit. But don't flinch! It’s a bad habit!"

Lysithea’s jaw takes on that familiar bullish slant, and she hikes up the shotgun once more. “Pull.”

She misses. And again. After the fifth try, she finally manages to clip the claybird, which sends a puff of bright purple smoke trailing through the air. Lysithea turns to Hilda and Holst, flushed with pride, and Hilda has to grab her arms and point the shotgun back down the range.

“Rule number two!” Hilda reminds her.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Lysithea grimaces apologetically. “Please don’t punch me in the mouth.”

“Rules are rules,” Hilda says resignedly. And then kisses her.

Behind them, Holst yells, “Boooo! That’s not how the rule works!!”

Hilda flips him off while she’s still kissing Lysithea. By the time she lifts her head, Lysithea’s cheeks have gone pink, and her grip has slackened around the stock of the gun. Hilda taps the shotgun with her finger, and murmurs, “Seriously, though. Don’t break the rules.”

“Y-Yeah. Got it.”

It takes Lysithea a few more rounds to be comfortable enough that Hilda doesn’t have to keep a steadying hand at the small of her back. But Hilda does so anyway. She strokes her thumb at the divot of Lysithea’s spine. Lysithea’s next shot misses wildly.

“You’re very distracting,” Lysithea mutters.

“I could be more distracting.”

From behind them, Holst cups his hands around his mouth and yells, “Rule number seven: No hands on butts, or you get a punch to the mouth!”

“That’s not a rule!” Hilda shouts back.

“It is now!” Holst stands and approaches one of the other stations beneath the platform. He picks up a shotgun from the rack, and tosses the claybird remote to Hilda. “Pull for me, so I can get a higher score than you.”

With ease Hilda catches the remote. “You talk a big game for someone who still hasn’t beat my high score.”

“Only one Goneril sibling has won an Olympic medal, and it’s not you.”

Hilda gives Lysithea a quick peck to the cheek, before turning away from her to confront Holst. She crosses her arms. “If I win, you have to take us to the the pub for dinner with your hair the way it is.”

“Fine.” He loads two shells, and then snaps the shotgun into place. “And if I win, then you dye my hair back to its normal colour, and acknowledge that I am The Supreme.”

Hilda rolls her shoulders, cricking her neck back and forth. "Alright. Let's do this."

From the sidelines, Lysithea raises one of her hands. “Do I shoot as well, or -?”

“You see that over there?” Hilda points at a mound of dirt with what looks like a rack of spoons dangling from a steel bar. “That’s a reactive target. Go for those, while I show this guy who’s boss, and then we’ll go back to pulling for you. Or, you can put the gun down, and watch if you prefer.”

“Alright.” Lysithea breaks the shotgun in two, and throws the shells in one of the bins just like Hilda showed her. Much to Hilda’s surprise, Lysithea reaches for another two shells and loads them into the over-under barrels.

Behind her, Holst clears his throat.

Hilda turns back to him. “Yeah, yeah. Keep your tighty-whities on.”

He shoulders the shotgun. "Pull."

She clicks the button on the remote. A three second delay, and two claybirds zoom out across the air. Holst's movements are fluid, controlled, and precise. He seamlessly tracks the projectiles one after the other, and utterly obliterates them.

"Pull."

In the end, it's a near perfect set. It would have been perfect had it not been for Lysithea sneezing to the side. Hilda could have kissed her, but Lysithea apologises so much that neither Hilda nor Holst believe for a second that it was done on purpose. Holst is a good sport when he's not facing off against family members, and he pats her on the arm good-naturedly.

Finally, Holst offers the shotgun to Hilda. They swap out the gun and the remote. Hilda takes his position. She rolls her shoulders and adjusts her pink-tinted sunglasses to calm herself. The firearm is a familiar weight in her hands. Even years after giving up the sport, holding a shotgun in her hands feels like breathing fresh air.

"Getting cold feet?" Holst asks.

Hilda tosses her head, and sniffs. "You wish."

Lysithea has stopped shooting, and her shotgun is leaning up against the stand. She observes from the sidelines next to Holst. Suddenly there’s a prickle of sweat running between Hilda’s shoulder blades, despite the fact that the air holds a chill, and the mountains are shrouded in dense fog. Hilda wishes that she had opted to wear a scarf along with her classic Burberry trenchcoat.

Turning back towards the range, Hilda says, "Pull."

It's a perfect set. Hilda celebrates like she’s fourteen again and just won a tournament. Holst drops down to his knees and clutches his pink hair with a groan. Beside him, Lysithea golf-claps politely, even as she assures Holst that she personally thinks he looks very nice.

Pushing to his feet, Holst concedes defeat. "Guess dinner's on me."

"Damn right it is," Hilda says far more confidently than she had felt just minutes before. She unloads the shotgun, and then hands it back to her brother. "Here you go."

They trade, remote for shotgun again. "You don't want to keep going?"

"After that set? No way. Better to end on a good note."

Hilda walks back over to stand beside Lysithea, who slips an arm around her waist and leans her head against Hilda's arm. She is warm, and her pale hair is soft. Feeling like she is floating on a cloud, Hilda kisses the top of her head. Hilda can feel a thrill of pleasure working its way into her lungs like she's taken a sip of warm tea.

Another hour or so passes before the sun starts its descent, and the winds pick up speed. Hilda declares the range closed. They pack up, and clamber back into Holst’s bro truck.

"Is your dad going to be okay on his own tonight?" Lysithea asks when Holst starts the truck.

"He'll be fine," Holst assures her. "I cooked him dinner already. It's in the fridge, so he can just heat it in the microwave."

The truck trundles its way down the one of many dirt paths that run along the farm to various paddocks. As they pass, a few curious cows lift their heads and watch them go by. The sheep shy away from the noisiness of the vehicle, but are otherwise unconcerned. Hilda strikes up a conversation with her brother about when he's planning on tupping this season and if that new ram panned out. Holst enthusiastically tells her everything about his plans.

It takes a good twenty minutes to drive down to the main drag of Locket. The farm roads are steep in some places, and Holst drives like an arthritic grandma. By the time they arrive at the pub, the sky has darkened to a dark lavender grey, and Hilda is starving.

Hilda holds open the door to the local watering hole. Holst goes in first, and is immediately flocked to by a group of local girls. From the doorway, Hilda watches, mouth agape, as her brother does the big bashful gentle giant act, and they all fall for it. Hook, line, and sinker.

As he’s being dragged away by both hands, Holst mouths over his shoulder at her, ‘I told you so.’

Hilda rolls her eyes. She stomps over to a free booth, and sits down, followed by Lysithea, who sits across from her. When a waiter comes over to take their orders, Hilda gets the strongest drink she can find on the menu to go with their meals.

"God,” she groans. “He's going to be so insufferable later."

"You two really are related," Lysithea teases.

Hilda shoots her a warning glance. "Don't."

Holding up one hand in surrender, Lysithea grins around her soda.

Their meals arrive. People periodically wander up to their booth to talk to Hilda. They use small talk and catching up with Hilda after so long as an excuse to snoop. Word of Lysithea has whipped through the small town like wildfire. Hilda does her best to shoo people away with her usual charm, or -- failing that -- painfully sweet passive-agressiveness.

For the most part it works. There are still those that aren’t the least bit dissuaded, despite Hilda’s best efforts. Luckily, Lysithea is as immune to small country, backwater charm as ever. She takes every new introduction in stride, coolly shaking hands, and nursing her sodas. Meanwhile, Holst is making the rounds. The belle of the ball. As usual.

Hilda sighs, and orders another drink along with an extra basket of wedge-cut fries.

Lysithea abstains from alcohol, but Hilda indulges just a little. She doesn’t realise she’s a little buzzed until she catches herself watching Lysithea over the top of her glass, and thinking about all the ways she could try to get Lysithea to sneak around the back of the pub and make out with her. The thought of pinning her against a wall and slipping a hand through a gap in that button down shirt sends a flush rushing to Hilda’s cheeks, and a heat directly between her legs.

Lysithea is, of course, oblivious. Even after all this time, it takes all of Hilda’s blunt straightforwardness to get Lysithea’s pants off. Or skirt. Whatever. She looks cute in either. She looks cute in anything. And in nothing.

Someone puts money in the old jukebox, and Hilda is genuinely surprised when music starts to play. She and her cousin, Hans, had broken that piece of junk back when she was seventeen. She could still see the dents from here. Holst must have paid to have it fixed. That, or he will have fixed it himself, like the cool and honourable guy she had always admired, loved, yet also resented.

Said cool and honourable guy is currently gesturing at them from across the pub.

“What on earth does he want now?” Hilda grumbles, and Lysithea turns in her seat, craning her neck to look at Holst.

Holst mimes dancing with his beer, and then points at the two of them.

Okay. His ‘cool and honourable brother’ status has officially been rescinded.

A few other people have indeed begun to clear a few chairs away to make space for dancing. They are pairing off. One of the girls who had been fawning over Holst earlier is now dragging him onto the dancefloor away from his beer and conversation with cousins. Meanwhile, Lysithea has hunched up her shoulders and is studiously staring into her half-empty soda as though the idea of dancing in front of a bunch of strangers causes her physical pain.

Hilda plays a bit of footsie with her under the table until Lysithea glances up at her. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Fuck Holst.”

The song has changed into something a little more classic yet lively. Old rock with a heavy strain of twelve bar blues.

Lysithea lifts her head somewhat. Her pale hair is done up in a loose bun at the base of her neck, so that she looks like an escapee librarian from the 1930s. She tucks a loose strand behind one ear. “We could, if you wanted,” she says, eyes darting to Hilda. “I know you like dancing, even if it’s not something in which I typically partake.”

She wants to. She wants to so badly there's an ache in her chest. But Lysithea is watching her with an almost wary expression, like she expects Hilda to leap up and drag her onto the dancefloor without a moment's hesitation. That alone gives Hilda pause.

A few months ago, she would have done just that -- grabbed Lysithea at the first say so, and danced until Lysithea was pink in the face and needed to sit down to catch her breath. Now however, Hilda sits, frozen, in her seat. The old plasticky booth is somewhat sticky against her legs despite the cold. In the summer time it would be warm enough that you would have to scrape her bare thighs off with a spatula. The idea of pushing Lysithea too fast is, as always, a constant fear in the back of her head, like the buzzing of a phone alarm reminding her not to do what she usually does and fuck this up.

"No," Hilda says. "I'm fine."

At that, Lysithea blinks in surprise and -- surprisingly -- disappointment. "Oh. Alright. Do you want another drink? I think I'll get another drink."

The words are on the tip of Hilda's tongue, burning at her throat, wanting to retract what she said. Instead, she holds up her empty glass and waggles it back and forth. "Just water, thanks. I think I've had one too many of these."

"Okay. Be right back."

It's not too deep into the night before Holst wanders over to their booth. He shares a few snacks with them. He downs another beer. When he orders a third pint, Hilda holds out her hand for the keys to his truck and he promptly passes them over without complaint.

“Do you really think you should be driving?” Lysithea points out. “You’ve had a few tonight as well.”

Hilda swings the keys around her finger. “Can you reach the pedals?”

Glaring, Lysithea snatches the keys from her. “Give me those.”

In the end, Lysithea is the one to drive them home. The headlights cast the farm road in eerie shadows, and she drives extra slow to try to avoid as many pot holes as possible.

The downside to Lysithea driving is that Hilda has to sit in the middle (which is The Worst). The upside is that Hilda can keep a surreptitious hand on Lysithea’s thigh the whole way.

Back at the house, Lysithea takes off her shoes in the long entryway. Holst's muddy gumboots are neatly lined up against the wall beneath the series of wooden coat pegs. Out of force of habit of being on the farm again, Hilda takes off her own stylish boots, and immediately sinks down three inches. It means that the top of her head now barely reaches Holst's shoulders.

She is seriously considering putting heels back on, when Lysithea says, "I think I'll take a shower."

"Want some company?" Hilda asks.

Lysithea hums a contemplative note. "I’ll just take an actual shower, thanks."

"Boring," Hilda says in a sing-song voice, but winks at her anyway. "I'll come to bed in a bit."

With a wave, Lysithea wanders off through the spacious living room and down the hall. The house is dark. Presumably dad has already gone to bed. Lysithea leaves on a trail of lights as she goes.

Holst waits until the door to the bedroom is shut before going after Lysithea and turning off most of the lights in her wake. Another force of habit. Hilda herself had to resist the urge to the same. Instead, she stands by the old chair that her father favours. The leather is cracked and shiny from years of use, but none of them had the heart to throw it out. It’s too comfortable. It holds too much emotional value.

A knitted woolen blanket is thrown over one of the glossy arms. As a kid, Hilda had always thought that mom had made it. It wasn’t until she was older that she realised mom was truly terrible at knitting and sewing, and that dad had made it all along.

Despite the long shadows cast over the house, Holst manoeuvres his way back through the living room with ease. The only light is that of the moon, the porch, and the sliver of pale yellowish light from beneath Hilda’s closed bedroom door, where Lysithea is having her shower. Neither of them need light to wander this house. Not when the layout hasn’t changed in over thirty years, and every creaky floorboard is firmly ingrained in their every childhood memory.

Hilda nods towards him. “You looked good tonight.”

“I look good every night,” Holst says.

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up, and accept my compliment.”

“Thank you. I will.” The grin slowly slips from Holst’s face. He clears his throat, and rubs a hand at the back of his neck. “Hey - uh - can we talk?”

“Oh, no. What’s wrong?” Hilda asks, already expecting the worst.

“Nothing,” Holst says. When Hilda just arches a cool eyebrow at him, he shrugs and lowers his arm. “I appreciate that you’re just here for the weekend, but we need to discuss dad’s will before you go.”

Hilda darts a look over her shoulder. Lysithea is already in the shower; she can hear the roar of the pipes. Still, the walls in this house are thin. She lowers her voice to a hiss. “Can we please talk about this some other time?”

His brow is furrowed, but he keeps his voice to a low rumble rather than the usual raucous level their family employs. “I don’t understand why you’re so dead against taking ownership of the farm.”

“Because I have things I want to do with my life that don’t involve the latest in Rotary Milk Sheds Magazine.”

Holst brandishes an admonishing finger under her nose. “Now, I won’t hear a bad word said about RMS Mag in this house.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“I can’t keep doing this forever, Hilda. Uncle Henrick and his boys are helping me out when they can, but there will come a time when you need to step up to the plate. Dad won’t live forever.”

“Yeah, thanks. I know that.”

“You wouldn’t even have to visit more often than you already do,” Holst says, and he’s using that annoying older brother voice like she’s six again. “We just need to sign some papers, and then arrange for a farm manager to act in your stead for the time being.”

Shaking her head, Hilda strides past him towards the kitchen. “I need a cup of coffee.”

“We’re out of freeze-dried.”

“Fine! Tea, then.”

He follows after her. He has to duck through the doorway so that his head doesn’t hit the arch. “Caffeine this late at night isn’t good for you.”

Hilda flicks on the kitchen light. She fills the electric kettle with water from the tap, and sets it to boil. “I’m thirty-one years old. I have a PhD. I’ll damn well have caffeine when I want to have caffeine.”

With a sigh, Holst lets it go. He steps by her and makes a start into the dishes that dad has left in the sink, because these days dad is too old and shaky to be cleaning his own chef’s knives let alone running a farm.

The kettle boils, and Hilda grabs the jar of teabags that’s been in the same place since she was born. “Do you want a cup?”

Holst shakes his head. He has a dish towel draped over one massive shoulder. “No, thank you.”

She pours only a cup for herself, grabbing the bottle of fresh milk from the fridge and adding a healthy dollop. The tea isn’t nearly bracing enough, but it gives her something to do with her hands that doesn’t involve nervously wringing them together.

Warm water sloshes in the sink as Holst scrubs at a plate. “You’re awfully antagonistic this trip. More so than usual, I mean.”

The tea is too hot to drink quickly, but Hilda takes a large slurp anyway. “It’s almost like I expected to be ambushed by inheritance talks the moment I walked through the front door.”

“You’re acting like this is the end of the world.”

“I like what I do.” The porcelain sears between Hilda’s hands. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I worked hard to get there.”

“I know that.”

Silence settles over the kitchen. Hilda taps her fingers against the mug. Her rings clack. They can hear the hiss of the shower from the other room shut off.

After a long moment, Holst says, “Lysithea’s nice. I like her way more than that last guy you brought home. The short one with the blue hair.”

She shoots him a scathing look. “Gee. Thanks.”

“I didn’t mean it like -” He breaks off with a sigh. Pulling the dishcloth from where it is draped over one shoulder, he begins drying everything that he has just cleaned. “I just want to see you settled down with someone nice. And I think she’s very nice. You’re calmer around her. And I think she would make a good addition to the family.”

Hilda lightly swats one of his brawny arms. "You didn't say any of this to her, did you? Don't go scaring her off, you asshole."

"I didn't say anything!" Holst insists. Then he adds, "Yet."

Hilda points to the night-dimmed window. "I swear to god, I will go outside, grab an axe, and cleave you in half."

He waves the white dishtowel in surrender. "Relax."

"I really like her, alright? Don't screw this up for me."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Holst returns to drying the dishes. After a moment, he says, "Dad likes her, too."

That sends Hilda's stomach into a whirlwind of somersaults. Dad had never liked any of her previous beaux before. Then again, most of her previous beaux had been thick country boys, who were lacking in every category except the sack. She has always liked her men to be the same way: big, dumb, and easy to manipulate.

Lysithea is, of course, none of those things.

And then Holst says, "So, when are you going to propose?"

Hilda chokes on her tea. Her face goes bright red. She doesn't need a mirror to know that her complexion is now clashing terribly with her clothes. She splutters. "That's -! Well, I mean -!"

"Haven't you thought of it?"

"I have," Hilda admits slowly. "And -- not that it’s any of your goddamn business -- but we've, y’know, talked."

"And you haven't put a ring on her finger yet? Oh, Hilda..."

Slamming her teacup on the bench, Hilda growls, "What? Why am I the one who needs to propose here?"

"Well, because you're -" he gestures at her with a wave of the drying towel. "You know..."

Her glower is sharper than the knives on the drying rack. "No, go on. Say it."

Holst has never had a very strong sense of self-preservation. It shows, because he does in fact continue. "You're a very forceful personality. Always have been."

“Forceful personality?! I am a delicate flower!" Hilda stamps one foot on the ground. "And maybe I'm the one who wants to be proposed to! Have you ever thought of that? Huh?"

"It's not me who needs to think of that," he replies dryly.

That stops Hilda dead in her tracks. Her mouth works, but no noise comes out. Finally, she swipes up her cup of tea, and drains it dry.

“I am just looking out for you,” Holst insists. “And don’t be an ass. Not about this.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” she says once she’s finished.

“No. You should be having it with her.”

She clamps her mouth shut so hard she can feel her jaw ache. “I’m going to bed.”

“Just -” he sighs, “- think about what I said. About everything.”

Hilda shoves the now empty cup in his hands for him to clean. “Good night.”

Hilda sleeps poorly. She tosses and turns all night, and still wakes early enough to see sunlight creep through the window to the sound of distant birdsong. She whittles away an hour by curling up behind Lysithea, and sticking her nose into the back of Lysithea's neck.

Lysithea remains asleep. She is warm, and soft, and smells like clean soap and freshly washed sheets. Her long pale hair tickles Hilda's face. Hilda wouldn't move for the world.

Eventually however, Hilda is very much awake. And when Hilda is awake, she cannot keep from fidgeting. When she feels her own feet start to twitch, she gets out of bed to ensure that she doesn't wake Lysithea.

Wrapped in a cosy last season sweater, Hilda creeps out of the room. She closes the door quietly behind her, and wanders towards the kitchen.

Holst is already awake. He is cradling a cup of freshly brewed tea. When he sees her enter the kitchen, he blinks in surprise. "You're up early. The pot is on. Do you want a cup?"

"No," Hilda yawns. She runs a hand through her hair, which is still slightly mussed with sleep. "Can I have your keys?"

Fishing them from his jeans pocket, he tosses them to her. "Going to the village?"

She catches them. "Just for a bit. I'll be back in a hot second."

"We need more bread. And can you pick up the mail?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it."

In the entryway, Hilda stomps her feet into a pair of ugly boots that are nonetheless very comfortable, and more importantly she isn't afraid to get them dirty.

The mailbox for the farmhouse is over a mile away. Hilda doesn't get out of the truck, just leans through the open window to grab whatever is in the mailbox. It's a quick jaunt to Locket through the low-hanging fog. She picks up a few loaves of fresh bread and a local newspaper.

By the time she makes it back home, Lysithea is awake and having a cup of tea in the kitchen with Holst. Stepping out of the truck, Hilda pauses outside. She can see Lysithea through the mist-clung window; she has dressed into casual clothes, but her pale hair is still cowlicked from pressing against a pillow for so long.

When Hilda enters the house, and makes her way into the kitchen. She makes a point of putting down the bread, the newspaper, and the letters so she can run her fingers through Lysithea’s hair. It does little to tame the persistent cowlick.

“Morning,” Hilda says.

“Hey.” Lysithea does not tell her to stop, though her eyes do alight upon the newspaper. “Is this the local rag?”

"Mhmm. It's not the paper you're used to," Hilda says. Pulling her hand away from Lysithea’s hair, she flips a few pages of the newspaper over. "But it has a halfway decent crossword! Want to do it with me?"

Lysithea surprises her utterly by saying, "How about later? We can do it on the plane ride back this afternoon. Holst was telling me about one of the gentler walks on the farm. Think you can show me around?"

Holst himself has busied himself by taking the loaves of bread -- but for one -- and putting them into the freezer. The one he has kept out, he breaks into, placing a few slices into the toaster to start on breakfast. The moment his name is mentioned, he flips the bag of sliced bread shut, and reapplies the twist tie. "I can have brunch ready for you when you get back."

"Sure." Hilda tugs at a lock of Lysithea's hair. "You ready to go now? You might want to grab a jumper. It's chilly out there today."

A few minutes later, Lysithea is dressed in one of Hilda's oversized woolen sweaters. On Hilda it would have been just slightly too big, masking her bulky shoulders somewhat. On Lysithea, it could have acted as a dress. As they head out, one of the dogs thinks it can join on walkies, but Hilda shoos it away.

"We could bring him," Lysithea offers.

"Nah. He'll just be a pest." Hilda points back to the farmhouse. "Go on, Brindle!"

Dutifully, the dog trots back, and flops beneath the shelter of the eaves.

The house recedes as they go on their way. When Hilda had driven into Locket earlier, the fog had been thick enough to obscure the mountains and make the trees loom through like shadows. Now, the sun has begun to burn it away, giving detail to the world once more. Hilda guides them towards the gentlest walk on the property, but still she makes sure to take frequent stops. Lysithea's breathing only grows slightly laboured, but she has sounded more winded in bed to be honest.

"Uuugh," Hilda's feet squelch through the mud and grass. She grimaces down at her old hiking boots. They keep all the muck at bay, but they also clash terribly with the rest of her outfit. "This is a disaster."

"I kind of like it."

“Impossible. These boots are horrible.”

“I wasn’t talking about the boots,” Lysithea says behind her in a small voice.

Glancing over her shoulder, Hilda sees that Lysithea is trailing along in her wake. She looks -- and this really is strange -- nervous. Hilda doesn’t stop, but she does slow down slightly.

"What is it?" Hilda asks. Her eyes narrow. "Did my dad say something to you. Did Holst?"

Lysithea shakes her head. "No. It's nothing like that."

"I'll kill him."

"Hilda, I swear. They didn't say anything. They've been nothing but lovely since we've arrived."

"Hmm," Hilda hums under her breath, disbelieving.

Lysithea trots a few steps forward so that they walk side by side. She slips her hand into Hilda's and holds her fast. "Though I must admit -"

"Oh, here we go."

"It's not bad. I just have to say that when we first arrived I was -" Lysithea takes a second to fish for the right word. "- puzzled. This place seemed so unlike you. I had a difficult time reconciling that you grew up here. But the longer we've stayed, the more apparent it becomes. You really are at home here."

"It's the boots." Hilda lifts one of the offending shoes as they walk like she’s goose-stepping. "They ruin my whole ensemble."

"It's not the boots," Lysithea says. Then, after a moment, she adds. "Well, the boots don't hurt."

"They do. Specifically, they hurt my eyes."

"Hey," Lysithea's voice has gentled. She squeezes Hilda's hand to get her to stop.

They are standing in a clearing. The trees rise up on all sides. The grass is green and lush beneath their feet. Late morning sunlight slants through the low-hanging mist, and through the boughs of the trees can be seen the distant snowy mountain peaks bearing their misty capes.

Lysithea's words are a soft murmur. "You've been so uptight during this trip. Is there something I can do to help?"

Hilda lets out a long breath she had not known she was holding. It escapes her in a rush of air. She glances back in the direction of the house, but they've put it far behind them. Nobody is following them. They are alone.

"It's -" Hilda grimaces. "To be honest, I'm nervous."

"I already know that. I am a genius, you know."

Hilda laughs, but it's shaky and short and sharp. She has to clear her throat. Lysithea is still holding her hand, and her skin is cool against Hilda's own sweaty palm. "Every time I've brought someone back home, it's always turned out badly."

"Your family scares them away?" Lysithea asks. “Because I’ve met way scarier people. You remember Hubert, right?”

"Yes. No. Not always." Hilda shrugs. "It's just - nothing ever goes right for me after this step. And I don't want that to happen again. Not this time. Not with you. I kind of like you, you know."

"Yes, I got that impression, thanks."

“Just a little, though. Can’t have people thinking I’m going soft.”

“Your secret is safe with me."

"So, yeah. I'm nervous. And you know what the only thing I can think of is?"

Lysithea cocks her head to one side.

"That I really really should've danced with you last night." Hilda lightly smacks her own forehead with her free hand. "I've been kicking myself over it all day."

With a smile, Lysithea shakes her head. She turns Hilda's hand over, and seems to be deep in thought for a moment. Then, she says, "We can now, if you want."

"Here?" Hilda gestures to the gently sloping woodland around them. "And without music? What do you take me for? A loose woman?"

"Oh, shut up, and dance with me already."

Lysithea has to reach up to grab Hilda's other hand and bring it to her waist. Hilda's mouth goes dry. Her heart flops around in her chest in a dumb romance novel kind of way.

She's supposed to be past this point in the relationship already. She’s supposed to be restless and distant. She's supposed to be bored. It terrifies her that she isn’t.

Lysithea hums under her breath. It's a warm sound, surprisingly light and airy. She tends to only ever sing if she thinks nobody else is around. Even Hilda only hears Lysithea singing softly when they're in separate rooms in the apartment. Usually when Lysithea is in the bathroom for her morning routine, or in the kitchen brewing coffee.

It’s not a dance so much as it’s a sway. Hilda guides them around in small circles to make it more of an actual dance. Lysithea never dances with her in public. Normally, Hilda has to coax her into dancing in the kitchen. She’s only done it in public once at Claude’s three months ago. A trendy new band was opening there, and the bar had been packed.

The fact that she had been willing to dance with Hilda last night at the village pub is unprecedented.

“Holst and I were talking last night.”

Lysithea hums an inquisitive note, prompting Hilda to continue.

“Not going to lie, it got a little awkward. He was basically trying to foist off the inheritance onto me. Dad’s not getting any younger, and Holst wants me to officially start to look after the estate. It’s such a pain.”

For a moment Lysithea did not reply. Then she asked, “And what did you say?”

Hilda exhales a long breath that she turns into blowing a raspberry. “Well, he’s very insistent. But I don’t think I can be responsible for something like that. I can barely look after a house pet, let alone a thousand cows.”

“That’s -” Lysithea blinks. “- a lot of cows.”

“You’re telling me.” Hilda leads them around in a slow circular pattern. The long grass catches on the edges of her hiking boots with every step. “Anyway, I haven’t decided yet. I wouldn’t have to move out here for, like, ten years to really take over, but still. It’s a big commitment. I don’t know if I’m ready to give up what I have to come back to this old place.”

“You could be the most stylish farmer on this coast, though,” Lysithea points out.

“Hmm. Tempting. But not very challenging.”

"It's not a bad early retirement plan." Lysithea adds. "I kind of like the idea of just disappearing off the map one day. Though we would have to put a proper airstrip into Locket for El's jet."

"She can use one of the paddocks."

"I don't think jets work like that."

"She'll be fine."

"You know your brother is just going to keep worry about this until you give him an answer, right?"

Hilda rolls her eyes. "He's always worrying about something. Might as well make it something that will turn out right in the end."

Lysithea furrows her brow. "You never intended to say no to him, did you?"

"I am incapable of saying no. Especially not to a good cause. It's just a part of my giving nature."

Slowing to a stop, Lysithea studies her face carefully. “I hope I’m one of your good causes.”

With a snort of laughter, Hilda asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I -” Lysithea chews at her lower lip, one of her signature nervous ticks. “I may have overheard a little of your talk with Holst last night, and -”

When Lysithea begins to fish around in one of her pockets for something, Hilda’s eyes go wide. She has to turn around and catch her breath. It feels just like that time she was playing rugby in an empty paddock, and was kneed in the gut by her cousin, Hughes.

It's one of Hilda's worst-kept secrets, that she is flustered by genuine romance. The best way to avoid getting all blubbery over even the most cheesy of romance movies is to either a) not watch them at all, or b) tell horrible jokes throughout all the bits that would normally get her misty-eyed.

It's embarrassing. It’s debilitating. It's something that would've gotten her severely mocked by a horde of male cousins since the age of zero.

“Hilda?”

Hilda peeks over her shoulder as if expecting a zombie to leap out of the bushes. Instead, it’s just Lysithea standing there with a little velvet box in her hand. Which is even more terrifying, arguably.

“Is this -?” Lysithea tilts the box back and forth like she’s debating whether she should just chuck it and run. “Is this not the right time or place or -? Have I messed this up?”

“No,” Hilda breathes. Then, realising what that sounds like, she hurriedly tries to correct herself. “No! I don’t mean: ‘no.’ I mean ‘No!’ I mean -! Yes! No, it’s not not the right time or place. And yes, yes.”

She is blabbering. She’s too far gone. She can feel a tell-tale burning in her eyes, and has to swallow down a swell of tears.

Lysithea stares at her, but if anything her expression is determined rather than completely baffled or put off by the way Hilda is rambling. She hesitates for only a second before saying, “I know you like a bit of showmanship, but I really don’t want to kneel down in the mud. Is it okay if I don’t -?”

“Yes!” Hilda is so excited she’s jumping up and down a little in place, and clapping her hands together. She sniffles. “Ohhhh! Open it! Open it!”

“Edelgard may have helped me pick it out a few weeks ago. Because I’m bad at jewelry, and tend to just go for something I think looks pretty,” Lysithea admits as she opens the box to reveal the ring.

It’s not gaudy, but it is eye-catching. Rose gold. Diamond. Pink sapphires. Without hesitation, Hilda sticks out her hand for Lysithea to put the ring on. For a moment Lysithea fumbles at the ring to pull it from the case -- it’s pretty firmly stuck in the velvet lining -- before slipping it onto Hilda’s finger. Her touch is warm and soft, and Hilda can’t keep the burning behind her eyes at bay any longer.

“Please don’t cry. You’re going to make me cry.”

“I can’t,” Hilda is already wiping at her eyes with her free hand. “Thank god I’m not wearing mascara.”

Lysithea laughs, but it sounds a little watery. She shakes her head with a grin. The silly cowlick still in her hair and the oversized jumper with a plaid collar poking through are so endearing that Hilda can’t help but kiss her. Lysithea’s hands grip the front of Hilda’s woollen sweater to pull her close.

When they part, Lysithea breathes, “I’m so glad you said yes.”

“Was there any doubt?”

“A little.”

“I’m shocked. Appalled, even. That you could even dream that I would say no to you.” Hilda kisses her again, briefly this time. “Honestly, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

With a huff of laughter, Lysithea pulls away, but drops her arm to lace their fingers together. She tugs at Hilda’s hand. “Come on. Show me the rest of the walk. And then let’s go home.”

#hilda valentine goneril #lysithea von ordelia #hilda/lysithea #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #roman writes #two across

36 notes · View notes

overlyemotionalnerd · 5 years ago

Text

An uncoordinated rant about everything, because this show and a certain part of the fandom is starting to get annoying…

Disclaimer: everyone is entitled to their own opinion. I’m not saying nobody is allowed to enjoy the show or certain pairings, I’m just stating my personal view!

I’ve stopped watching Super-Social-Justice, oh, sorry ”Supergirl” early on in the fourth season. I just could not stand the ”character development” of anyone. Sorry, if it’s your favourite season, personally, I hated that it stopped being about Kara. Anyways, all I know about the current events is from what I’ve seen on social media and posts about *ugh* SuperCorp, so feel free to correct me if I make some glaring mistakes. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, however, I am not a fan of Lena. I started watching the show because of Katie and Jeremy, so I had high hopes for their characters (and low expectations for the show overall, so I was positively surprised by how much I loved the first three seasons) From the very beginning, Lena was what you would call a ”morally grey” character. I was hoping they would do something like with Morgana, but I just kept getting more and more disappointed. I hate that she constantly gets those ”redemption” episodes when she’s clearly selfish and power-hungry. I don’t like how people say she’s a hero, because every time she helps Superfriends (and gets all of the credit for saving the day) she never does it out of the goodness of her heart. She always has a motive and it’s never good. And the constant play at being the victim is really getting on my nerves. Basically, she seems to believe she’s the only one with a tough life…

Lena: You don’t know how hard it is to be related to someone evil! Of course, I don’t trust anybody and will most likely use or kill you if you stand in my way! That’s because my childhood was so terrible! Kara:… Winn:… Mon-El:… Brainy:…

I like that every character has their flaws. You don’t have to make them ”perfect” to be likeable. It’s those imperfections that make a character more relatable. But there is nothing relatable or cute about a character who keeps endangering everybody else for their own gain and doesn’t ever do anything to make it up for them.

I can’t wait for Winn and Mon-El to come back and see what a mess the past is. ”Seriously, we’ve left you to fight evil AIs and you are this close to completely destroying our world?” And Winn would love to have a long discussion with every single person but he has what is probably the worst case of a time-jet-lag, so he will deal with them after he’s had his nap and a lot of ice cream and pizza with a Disney marathon. He doesn’t want to hear about any more drama until him and Mon-El has had at least three days to rest!

Dear creators of ”Supergirl”, erasing all of the LGBT representation and PoC, only to queerbait with two conventionally attractive white women is not progressive. Refusing to show men as capable yet sensitive and making them into replaceable, straight ”undesired love interest” and not giving them credit for anything, therefore making them bland or just erasing them from the plot is not progressive. Sqeezing women into tight dresses and giving them out of nowhere all of those ridiculous achievements is not progressive. Completely changing a well-recognised female character’s design just to put them into what is basically a copy of a man’s suit is not progressive (seriously, if Kara hated the skirt so much, why didn’t she say so sooner? I don’t hate the new suit, just don’t see how it’s a sign of feminism). You do know that feminism is about equality for all, and not the power of white, straight and wealthy women, right?

#supergirl #anti supercorp #anti lena luthor #kara danvers #winn schott jr #mon el

39 notes · View notes

etastra · 4 years ago

Note

💬💗 for all of them or whoever you want to answer it with~

@wcvensouls // sex & romance hcs !!

💬 when did my muse go on their first date? // 💗 has my muse ever been in love?

under a cut b/c i’m answering All

JIWON 💬: his first ever date was in middle school !! it was with his first love, and they went on a bike ride after school to the local convenience store, where they bought all the snacks they could both want and shared it together on the sidewalk a couple of blocks down. 💗: yes !! his first love, though maybe an innocent love, is one he stands by even now, years later.

YOUNGSOO 💬: sometime in high school !! specifically, towards the end when he was beginning to come into himself more and was less of a wallflower, silent type and more of the proud, boastful person he is today ! it wasn’t a very enjoyable date, in his opinion, as he’s pretty sure it was only a thing out of pity but oh well. 💗: he doesn’t think so !! youngsoo’s idea of love is intertwined heavily with the idea that love = sex and, because he’s asexual, he’s never felt that he’s been in love. and there hasn’t been very many Notable people in his past to maybe double think and wonder if he was in love.

JUNSEO 💬: junseo doesn’t really remember it but according to his parents, he went on a cute date with a neighbor girl in elementary school !! he vaguely remembers both his parents and her parents cooing over them together, and both families going on an outing to the park, and he thinks that was the date but ? to be determined. 💗: yes. he currently is !! very happily in love, even if it took a while to get there, and was a bumpy, uncertain road for too long. but he’s happy, and in love !

AOYUN 💬: aoyun didn’t start dating until college, and he distinctly remembers his first date !! it was actually with a girl a GE, and they went to the movies before spending all night talking in the park near campus together. he still occasionally talks to her, as they share similar fields of interest ! 💗: love is... a finicky concept for him !! mostly because he is more cosmic than he is human, and it’s simply difficult for him to sift through what is natural awe and adoration for humans, and what is genuine affection. but he thinks he’s as close to love as the universe can be in love with something human.

HOJIN 💬: bold of you to assume hojin knows what is considered a date and isn’t !! no but seriously, hojin has asked out plenty of people, and has been asked out by plenty of people, from as young as middle school, and he’s never been able to tell when it was romantic and when it was platonic ! even if he was the one asking the person out, it’s all a hot mess of emotions, really. 💗: once again, bold of you to assume hojin knows how to distinguish his emotions !! the concept of love is super amorphous and indistinct, and the various types of love are near interchangeable for him. maybe he has been, maybe he is, maybe he hasn’t, maybe he isn’t, whom knows ? certainly not him !

KYUNGMIN 💬: his first ever date is actually with his respective partner in their respective versions of his main verse !! kyungmin has never been very... romantic, and has never taken initiative to ask someone out, nor has someone really shown a lot of interest in him. it’s only very recently that he’s started dating. 💗: yes, he currently is !! again, with his respective partner in their respective version of his main verse, but he is very much in love !

HOSUNG 💬: similar to kyungmin, hosung has never dated before his partner !! he was a very asocial kid, alienated by his peers because of differences in wealth status and simply because he used to think he was above them all. it’s only until he met his partner that dates were a thing. 💗: yes !! he is very much in love with his partner, even if he grumbles and bemoans. they even have a cat together, which is big, and domestic, and proof

DAEHO 💬: sometime in high school !! he was a fairly likeable, and somewhat popular, kid in middle and high school, as he was very happy go lucky, very much a sunshiney kinda guy ( before reality hit and he became what he is now ). it was a cliche dinner date, split between them, and it ended pretty quickly because she liked his laughter and smile, and he just liked her face. 💗: that is..... highly debatable !! daeho doesn’t think he’s gotten past more than the honeymoon phase of a new relationship, or the first date butterflies. but proof that he is in love is gift giving, and becoming softer at the edges where he’s made himself sharp.

MINJUN 💬: sometime around when he started busking, so around 16/17 !! someone from the crowd asked him out immediately after his performance, and he was so flustered and shocked that he said yes without thinking twice. it wasn’t a bad date, but he felt it ended badly when he apologized a million times over and told his date he said yes out of surprise/shock 💗: he doesn’t know what love is, and he’s pretty sure he hasn’t been before ?? at least he hasn’t been with someone for very long to think of love as an option, or the next step !

CHUNYU 💬: his first ever date, unofficial though it may be, was to his parents’ first charity gala they hosted together after chunyu was old enough to run around by himself without getting into trouble !! his date, though, was a friend of his parents’ son, who was five years older and hid half the time. they only were stuck together because of their parents, and chunyu hated every last minute of it. 💗: he has been in love before, and has had his heart broken by that love !! he’s only ever been in love once, and will only ever be in love once as, though he broke up with his partner, life has a funny way of saying they belong together - or at least that’s his opinion.

KWANGSU 💬: he’s been on plenty of study dates, starting the first year of high school !! kwangsu wouldn’t count those as official, romantic dates, as all they ever did was study together. but that’s the earliest memory of a date he can remember ! 💗: he hasn’t !! too busy in school, too busy with anxiety, simply too busy to fall in love, unfortunately. but, lowest of keys, love has always been such a beautiful concept to him, and he wants to experience love ! especially young love, as he fears sometimes that he’s throwing his life away by studying, studying, studying !

HYUNJUN 💬: first ever date was to an arcade with the cutest girl in his high school math class !! in retrospect, it was a terrible location choice, as hyunjun may or may not have spent a lot of time focused on playing than on having fun with her. but he must’ve done something right along the way, since she kissed him goodbye and they dated for a year. 💗: he doesn’t think he has !! love is... perhaps not finicky, like to aoyun, nor amorphous like hojin, but it’s not something he actively thinks about and seeks out and expects in any new relationship ? but when he does fall in love, it’ll slowly creep up on him, and he’ll wake up one day, breathe in slow, and say ‘wow’ because, wow, he’s in love, isn’t he ?

INSU 💬: does.... does his first client count ?? because his first client did take him out to a fancy restaurant to try and butter him up, which didn’t really work but whatever, a free meal and money ? he’ll take any day. 💗: HAH !! insu doesn’t think he’s capable of love, plain and simple, and he knows he’s always kept people at a distance, thanks in part to parents and thanks in part to being... odd, in his words. he doesn’t think he’ll ever fall in love, too.

#wcvensouls #➤ ᶜᵉˡᵉˢᵗᶤᵃˢ ┊ ❛ the stars tell a story ❜#if u say any #i will say All

1 note · View note

takerfoxx · 6 years ago

Note

Looking back, was Madoka Magica really that dark? Only three characters actually die, two of whom are later resurrected through the power of love. Blood and gore wise, most blood is offscreen, and that which is shown is fairly tame compared to other dark magical girl shows. Yet somehow, this show the show managed to hit me in the gut more than far more horrific and bloodier dark magical girl shows ever have. Why?

That doesn’t sound surprising at all, and it all comes down toexecution.

See,people often have this false idea when it comes to “mature” stories, inthat things like character deaths, blood and gore, and suffering are thebuilding blocks of maturity. But they’re not. They’re tools, and like all tools,they can be wielded correctly and incorrectly. Quite often, less is more, andtoo much grimdark results in an edgy, tryhard mess of a thing that isn’t maturein the slightest. This is one of the reasons why Blood-C got such a negativereaction, or why Elfen Lied is so divisive. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I loveme some Elfen Lied, but even I admit that it’s a schlocky white-hot mess. Itjust so happens to be my kindof schlocky, white-hot mess.

So yeah, I know this is weird coming from the apparent king ofTouhou Grimdark (cut me some slack though, I learn as I go), but gratuitousviolence does not, in of itself, equal maturity or anything of substance. Atbest you get the adolescent view of maturity, which is just so cynical andtiresome.

Madoka Magica, on the other hand, is a different sort of beastentirely. That show’s been out for years, but I am continuously impressed byjust how well-crafted it is, and how the creators used the tools at theirdisposal to get so much out of so little.

First of all, there’s the genre itself. Now, darkdeconstructions of Magical Girl shows are nothing new. Utena had already poppedthat cherry years ago, and you already mentioned how others had…less of animpact than PMMM did. But even so, the Magica Girl genre is one that’s almostuniversally associated with little girls. So, lots of bright colors, optimism,and cute, and the good guys and bad guys are easily distinguishable, and goodalways triumphs over evil. So even if new viewers know that something is up,their guard is still automatically going to be dropped, at least a little.

Second, we have the art style. Now, this is very interesting, inthat they went with a very Hidemari Sketch sort of style, where the girls allhave designs that are cute, appealing, and very distinctive, but never goingoverboard with the cuteness to the point where it becomes obnoxious. Even withthe fairly cartoony designs, their actual movement is pretty realistic, and isnever exaggerated for comedic effect or goes super-deformed and all that.Furthermore, rare for something of this nature, they are never objectifiedand/or used for fanservice in the slightest. A more realistic or a more adultstyle wouldn’t have been nearly as effective, nor would something sexier. It’sjust enough to make you like the girls and want the best for them, but notenough to get annoying or ruin the mood with unnecessary fanservice.

So basically, to get a little neckbeardy with it, the art styleis meant to make the viewers want to protect and comfort the girls, but notstrangle them for being way too moe, or fuck them for that matter.

…

Well, I mean, lots of people still do, but it’s the internet,so…

…

Moving on.

Anyway, continuing with theanimation, let’s talk about the witches. In sharp contrast to the somewhatcartoony designed but mostly realistically animated real world, the witchbarriers go for a surreal, dream-like feel, with the weird, jerky, low framerate movements of the witches and their familiars to the bizarre designs thatstick more-or-less to aesthetic themes but still have no explanation and anoverall look that, rather than being overly and obviously dark and evil, isinstead…wrong. Off. Alien. Discomforting rather than outright scary. Thewitches are meant to clash with the characters’ animation in a way that isdeliberately uncomfortable without spilling into cheesy. I mean, puffballs withbutterfly bodies and big handlebar mustaches? Spotted mice in nurse hats? Howis that scary? But just look at how they move, how they sound, and it becomesincredibly unnerving. Even before the big episode three twist, until which PMMMcould still pass for a more standard Magical Girl show, it still stood out withjust how bizarrely disturbing its monsters are. There is something genuinelyunsettling about them, a sense of dread that just permeates their every scene,even when our heroes are victorious.

And with that, I’ve exhaustedmost of the synonyms for “disturbing.” Let’s move on.

So, we’ve gone over how theart and animation is carefully crafted to evoke a specific reaction from theviewers, but what about the story itself? Well, like what was discussedearlier, part of what makes PMMM work so well is that despite its grandambitions and epic feels, the bulk of the show is…actually pretty small. Imean, save for the universe-changing repercussions of Madoka’s wish at the veryend, most of the focus is kept away from the world at large and remains on asmall group of characters and how being sucked into the contract system affectsthem. The story revolves around these five girls and is all about theirpersonal lives, and the whole Incubator thing is portrayed as alarger-than-they-can-imagine thing that’s been going on since the beginning oftime that they can’t do anything about, so why even bother trying? For Kyubey,it’s pretty much just business as usual, with the gang just being another setof marks in a long, long line of them, to be chewed up and spat out by the cogsof his machine.

And that takes us to what youmentioned earlier, about how PMMM has fewer character deaths, less violence,and nearly no gore in comparison to other shows, but somehow manages to leave abigger impact. And that comes down to one of the most important rules aboutstorytelling: it’s not what you’re about, it’s how you’re about it. Killing offcharacters doesn’t make a story mature, hurting your characters doesn’t makeyour story mature, or even using something as risky as rape doesn’t make yourstory mature; those are just the catalysts. Rather, maturity comes fromexploring how those things affect your characters, how it changes their livesand how they change and grow in response to them. Mami’s sudden and shockingdeath had profound effects on Madoka and Sayaka, and it’s by exploring thoseeffects that it feels like it has such a big impact, in that it shatteredMadoka’s perfect world and sent her into a bout of depression while motivatingSayaka into recklessness to compensate for her guilt in not being there to helpMami and overcompensate in trying to take her place. The reveal of the MagicalGirls as liches with their souls literally contained within their soul gems wasa big twist in of itself, but by taking the time to show how it set Sayaka intoher downward spiral into self-destruction coupled with having the oppositeeffect on Kyoko by jarring her out of her self-centered nihilism and motivatingher to start reaching out to Sayaka it really does feel like it has actualmeaning beyond shock value. And their deaths become even more tragic, asKyubey’s later monologue shows that they were doomed from the beginning, andnothing other than a damned miracle was going to save anyone. And being that hehad the monopoly on miracles in that universe, the audience is left bitingtheir nails and hanging on the edges of their seats through the climax, prayingthat an out would be found while fearing that there would be none to be found.Which just makes Madoka’s loophole of a wish all the more gratifying, whilestill being bittersweet. Because a happy ending just wasn’t possible, but shefound a way to prevent an all-out tragedy, a way to alleviate the bulk of thepain. And all it cost was her earthly existence.

Anyway, we’ve talked aboutthe visuals and story direction, so now let’s talk characterization. This is yetanother place where this show shines. Becauseeven though it only had a few episodes, the relatively small cast and focus ontheir personal problems allowed for a lot of character development. It helped that,save for Madoka’s, each of their wishes was something small and easilyunderstandable. Mami just wanted to live, Kyoko just wanted people to listen toher father, Sayaka just wanted her close friend and crush to get better whiletaking up Mami’s responsibilities, and Homura just wanted to save her dearfriend, who had been one of the few people to ever give her positive attention.Hell, even Madoka’s original wish was to save a cat. And like their designs,their personalities are all distinct, balanced between likeable strengths andtragic flaws: Mami is stalwart and nurturing, but also tripped up by hercrippling loneliness. Sayaka is determine and has a strong sense of justice,but also brash and prone to self-loathing. Madoka is kind-hearted andencouraging, but held back by her lack of self-esteem. As for Homura and Kyoko,they’re introduced us when they are at their worst, but do to cleverstorytelling and exposition, we then see the goodness in them and what theyused to be, and it becomes all the more easier to understand how they becamethe way they are. And again, despite its small number of episodes, the showreally takes the time to show how these personalities bounce off each other andconflict, while also showing how the consequences of their actions change them.I really like how they did it two: the show is essentially divided into fourmini-arcs of three episodes apiece, with the main focus on a different girl perarc, with Madoka being something of a passive POV protagonist throughout the wholeshow: first it’s Mami, then Sayaka, then Kyoko, and finally Homura. And as isexpected, each mini-arc ends in a tragedy, from Mami’s death to Sayaka’srealization about the truth of soul gems to Kyoko’s final stand to Homurafeeling as if she’s lost Madoka forever. But even with all that dark, it stillends on a note that is, while bittersweet, is still optimistic. Madoka is stillgone and Sayaka is still dead, but they seem to have come to terms with that. Also,Kyoko and Mami are alive and on good terms again, Homura has something new tofight for, and the universe is a little less cruel, showing that despiteeverything, it was all worth it in the end, and all of their struggles, pains,mistakes, and tears mattered.

I could go on and on and on,but let’s sum it up with a tl;dr: Puella Magi Madoka Magica may not have had nearly the amount of death and despair as other shows and very littlegore, but it had a far greater impact because it was carefully and brilliantlyconstructed from top to bottom to hit you right where it hurts, twist theknife, and still make you thankful for the ride. And I wouldn’t have it anyother way.

#pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #Madoka Kaname #sayaka miki #mami tomoe #kyoko sakura #homura akemi #gen urobuchi

460 notes · View notes

recentanimenews · 5 years ago

Text

Bookshelf Briefs 5/28/20

Dr. STONE, Vol. 11 | By Riichiro Inagaki and Boichi | Viz Media – Balloons! Yes, Dr. STONE is taking it upon itself to do something it does best, which is show off the gorgeous vistas of this not-really-that-explored future Japan it takes place in. And that means hot air balloons. It also means speedboats! But alas, just because Senku is a scientist does not mean he can cook. So they use some of the last remaining fluid to un-stone a butler-cum-chef-cum-everything, Francois, who is flamboyant and also a lot of fun. There’s actually some really good humor in this volume as well, be it the reporter getting her camera and its undercutting right afterwards, or Senku’s Einstein impersonation. This remains one of the essential Jump titles. – Sean Gaffney

Dungeon Builder: The Demon King’s Labyrinth Is a Modern City!, Vol. 2 | By Rui Tsukiyo and Hideaki Yoshikawa | Seven Seas – After wrapping up the cliffhanger from the first volume (he names his first monster girl, which gives her the power-up (and bust expansion) she needs to win), the cast gets down to the nitty-gritty of what he wants to do: build a city, not a dungeon, which feeds on positive emotions. Of course, there are a few problems. Location, labor costs, the neighboring demon lords, and of course Marcho’s impending death, which she seems to have accepted more than Procel has. This remains sort of mid-tier manga—not interesting enough to stand out, but the pages turn easily, and you could do worse. Also, brilliant pun for the back-cover blurb. – Sean Gaffney

Éclair Blanche: A Girls’ Love Anthology That Resonates in Your Heart | By Various Artists | Yen Press – The second of the Éclair anthologies to come out over here, this one seems to focus more attention on love that is already in bloom when the story begins than love that we see the start of. There’s a nice mix of funny, heartwarming, sad, and generally melancholic. Some highlights are “Azalea Corner,” about a minion’s crush on the arrogant ojou she follows; “The Unemployed Woman and the High School Girl,” which should be awful but is by Canno so is cute instead; and “That Summer Won’t Come Again,” about a girl trapped in her sister’s past who bonds with a senpai and learns to swim again. There’s good and not-so-good here, but overall well worth buying. – Sean Gaffney

Éclair Blanche: A Girls’ Love Anthology That Resonates in Your Heart | By Various Artists | Yen Press – This is the second Éclair anthology, but aside from two continuations, all the stories here are new. The quality varies, and it seems the better stories are in the front. The first story, Fly’s “Flowers in a Storm,” sets the tone for bittersweet, ambiguous endings with the tale of a first kiss that comes too late. There are also several stories about unrequited love for a friend who loves someone else, be it another girl, an idol, or a guy. Kabocha’s “Though Summer Won’t Come Again” is a standout, about a girl who assumes the senpai she’s developed feelings for prefers her older sister, as everyone else seems to. Unfortunately, I found the stories toward the end of the volume to be less enjoyable, particularly the final one, which includes the most awkward teacher-student embrace I have ever seen. Still, I will read the next installment when it comes out! – Michelle Smith

I Didn’t Mean to Fall in Love | By Minta Suzumaru | Futekiya (digital only) – Yoshino Kiritani is a beautiful 30-year-old salaryman who happens to be both gay and a virgin. With no relationship prospects on the horizon and wanting to finally have sex, he goes to a gay bar, meets a charismatic college student named Rou, and sleeps with him. The back-and-forth that follows between these two guys is so well done. Rou is a notorious playboy with a hot-and-cold routine he has employed many times to manipulate his conquests into falling for him and confessing their feelings. He tries this on Yoshino, even though he’s actually serious about him, but it doesn’t work. Self-effacing Yoshino genuinely thinks Rou wants nothing more to do with him, forcing Rou to face the seriously scary prospect of rejection by declaring his feelings first. There are a few explicit scenes, but they serve the characters and story well. Highly recommended! – Michelle Smith

Love Me, Love Me Not, Vol. 2 | By Io Sakisaka | Viz Media – First of all, a word of advice to the author: don’t sink people’s ships in your author’s notes, OK? Secondly, this continues to have the strengths of Io Sakisaka titles—it gets teenage love in a good way, has characters who are likeable but clearly flawed, shows gradual character growth, and has clean, easy-to-follow art. She’s still trying to balance out the idealistic girl with the realistic girl, though it may be leaning towards the former. Sadly, it also contains what’s always been one of this author’s big weaknesses to me—I like her series but never love them. Each volume is fun to read and I’d call it good, but it’s never going to be tops in my favorite shoujo manga lists. It’s not life-changing the way a Yona of the Dawn is. – Sean Gaffney

Ping Pong, Vol. 1 | By Taiyo Matsumoto | Viz Media – Ever since Matsumoto was a guest at TCAF in 2013 and spoke in depth about the series, its development, and how it fit into his overall career, I’ve been desperately wanting to read Ping Pong in English. When the excellent anime adaptation came and went soon after and the original manga still hadn’t been licensed, I didn’t expect that we’d ever see it translated. But it is actually here! The first of two beautifully designed omnibus volumes. And I am absolutely in love with Matsumoto’s Ping Pong. Ostensibly a high school sports manga, Ping Pong spends very little time explaining the ins and outs of the game even though table tennis is essentially omnipresent; instead, the series devotes its attention almost entirely to the characters themselves. With strong psychological elements, in part the work’s themes explore talent, motivation, and self-determination, all supported by Matsumoto’s distinctive and spectacularly dynamic and expressive artwork. – Ash Brown

Prince Freya, Vol. 1 | By Keiko Ishihara | VIZ Media – The land of Tyr is threatened by Sigurd, the empire to the north. Our “wimpy and weak” heroine, Freya, happens to be the spitting image of Prince Edvard, who’s just been poisoned by Sigurd, and so takes on the role of impersonating him to protect her country. Alas, Freya’s performance as Edvard (and characterization in general) is inconsistent and in a way that doesn’t seem intentional on the mangaka’s part. Sometimes she boldly and capably takes action, sometimes she just cries. In my notes I wrote, “This ain’t no Basara,” prompted by a panel in which Freya is making an extremely insipid face because of something sappy her love interest has just said, but then something super dramatic and unexpected occurs and… well, now I’m cautiously on board. It may turn out to be fluffier than I would like, but I will at least give it a couple more volumes. – Michelle Smith

The Quintessential Quintuplets, Vol. 9 | By Negi Haruba | Kodansha Comics – There’s less swapping in this one, but the one time there is a swap it blows the reader out of the water. I suspect Ichika’s popularity took a nosedive after this volume, as her ideal of “all’s fair in love and war” is taken to a somewhat cruel conclusion. She’s not even the thirstiest of the quints, as both Nino and Miku are trying to make their feelings for Futaro as clear to him as possible. Meanwhile, Yotsuba is trying the opposite tactic, saying that she’ll support whichever sister that isn’t her he picks, showing off a core of self-deprecation that we’ve seen before, but never to this level. And then there’s Itsuki, who seems to have forgotten she was supposed to be first girl. Great harem antics. – Sean Gaffney

Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts, Vol. 9 | By Yu Tomofuji | Yen Press – I missed reviewing the eighth volume of this, for some reason; I’m not sure why. It continues to be quietly sweet, with a heroine who perhaps leans a little too much towards “can save everyone by the sheer power of being really nice.” That said, nice can only go so far, and when she discovers a country that’s being blackmailed into slavery, nice becomes determined and fierce. There’s also some tortured romance at the start—the king’s chief bodyguard and the princess’s attendant clearly are headed towards each other, but there are a few steps back here before we can move forward once more. I admit that I’d likely enjoy this more without its central conceit of animal people, but oh well. – Sean Gaffney

Snow White with the Red Hair, Vol. 7 | By Sorata Akiduki | Viz Media – I admit I was a bit more surprised than Shirayuki was at the identity of the leader of the Lions of the Mountain. That said, it does remind us that Shirayuki is another one of those great “shoujo heroines who underreacts to everything,” which can be quite amusing when done right. That said, this volume is when the series transitioned from the quarterly DX to the main LaLa magazine, and as such much of the middle part is taken up with introducing new readers to the main cast and the situation. This includes an amusing “personality reversal” chapter where Mitsuhide starts acting like a chivalrous knight. the book ends with the implication that their love is going public. How will that go? Great shoujo. – Sean Gaffney

Wandering Witch: The Journey of Elaina, Vol. 1 | By Jougi Shiraishi, Itsuki Nanao, and Azure | Square Enix – This is a manga adaptation of the first fourth or so of the light novel, and it’s a very good adaptation. I will admit that Elaina is a lot more expressive than I was expecting… her delivery in the novels is somewhat cool… but it makes sense given the manga’s visual medium, and she’s cute. This volume shows off what we’re going to get from now on: some cute fluffy stories, some melancholic stories with deaths, some stories of Elaina having to extricate herself from a situation, and some backstory showing how she came to be wandering. The final story was one of my favorites in the book, and it’s the best one here too. A nice adaptation. – Sean Gaffney

By: Ash Brown

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

1 note · View note

swainlake · 6 years ago

Note

Hello! So now that got has ended I'm looking for some tv shows that I could watch after I'm done with my exams. Do you have any suggestions? I'm not looking for anything specific, although if you have watched some good period dramas, I'd love some recommendations. Also wanted to add how much I love your blog, it's really beautiful

tysm that’s so sweet!! i love giving recs so i’ve got a bunch that you might like under the cut; i’ve put a ♡ next to my favs

period dramas:

NEW WORLDS (2014)this one is a mini series, only 4 episodes long, but please don’t let that stop you! it’s about anti-monarchism and rebellion and forbidden love in the 1600′s & is set in both england and america. i cried more than once but the ending is so bittersweet and hopeful!!

POLDARK (2015—)i have a love/hate relationship with this one tbh. i started watching because of the main relationship but i ended up really into it for the side relationships instead?? the actual political plot doesn’t interest me but i love the drama between the family members. also i adore the women in this show, every single female character is well-written and realistic and you’ll love them all (even if at times you hate them). the men tho? the men are pretty much collectively the worst. “what’s wrong with the women in this family?” “the men.”

SPARTACUS (2010—2013) ♡i started watching this before i ever got into game of thrones but if you like the fight scenes in got, you’ll enjoy this! great characters, great fight scenes, great friendships. this one is based on gladiators who are fighting for their freedom.

THE WHITE PRINCESS (2017) ♡okay firstly and most importantly: jodie comer stars in this so you know it’s good. it’s also got michelle fairly (catelyn stark) in it though tbh she wasn’t my favourite character in this and i didn’t find her likeable at all. it’s not very historically accurate ofc but the relationship between henry/elizabeth is honestly the perfect enemies to lovers rep & always lowkey reminds me of book!sansa/jon possibilities

PAN AM (2011—2012)this one isn’t like game of thrones at all but it’s only one season and it’s super cute and has a lot of famous actresses in it like christina ricci & margot robbie. based on the adventures of a crew of pan am stewardesses, this is a good combination of lighthearted fun and chilling cold-war drama. an old favourite.

THE MUSKETEERS (2014—2016) ♡i’ll be gushing over this for years to come tbh it’s really just that perfect. the relationship between the musketeers is so lovely, the personification of ‘brotherhood’ really, but also the romantic relationships are really good too?? which for some reason i personally hadn’t expected. my fav couple is aramis/anne (anne is played by the actress who played roslin frey!) because the forbidden love & the respect and adoration between those two is just perfect but really every relationship (even the ones that don’t become endgame) are written very well

OUTLANDER (2014—)i haven’t watched every single episode of this one but from what i have seen it’s very good, and has some similar themes to game of thrones!! the sex scenes are epic, the main relationship is lovely, and overall its a very realistic show that features supernatural elements!

THE LAST KINGDOM (2015—) ♡i’m not going to lie: i started this series by skipping straight to 2x7 because i’d seen gifs of the relationship between aethelflaed and erik but it was so good i ended up going back and starting from the beginning! this show reminds me of ‘vikings’ more tham game of thrones but it’s not as gory and the characters aren’t all assholes. side note: if you love sansa stark as much as i do you’re gonna love aethelflaed, lady of mercia! she’s actually a real person but this show is based on a book series that looks super interesting! honestly the main character also kind of reminds me of jon snow

HARLOTS (2017—) ♡oh my gosh how do i describe this show?? the family dynamics are so! intricate! and! beautiful! honestly just stunning. everything about this show is s t u n n i n g. the costumes are colourful and vivid and honestly i’d recommend watching just for that but the storyline really does keep you hooked!! also: liv tyler and jessica brown findlay are love interests in this which is honestly a dream come true

BLACK SAILS (2015—2017)okay full disclosure; i haven’t actually seen this but i’ve heard very good things and it’s on my list!! it’s about pirates, i think there’s some queer rep (can anybody confirm??), and there’s lots of amazing women. again, allegedly.

dramas:

THE SOCIETY (2018—)i literally watched the entire first season in a single night so it must be alright, right? basically all you need to know about this is that a town full of teenagers go on a field trip & then return to find all their parents mysteriously missing and their town closed off from the outside world. it’s basically lord of the flies but modern! with some kick-ass friendships! and amazing young women (one literally teaches herself to be a doctor can you believe?)!

SHARP OBJECTS (2018)if you haven’t heard about this one yet idk what rock you’ve been living under but welcome back! this one is a m a z i n g but also hella chilling and the ending is such a shocker if it hasn’t been spoiled for you yet!

THE BOLD TYPE (2017—) ♡i always describe this one as ‘sex and the city for millennials’ but i’ve never watched a single sex and the city episode in my life so i honestly don’t know how accurate that is?? but it’s about a group of 20-something year old women who are best friends and work mates and they love each other so much?? the relationship between the girls is my favourite thing about the show but the show honestly tackles a lot of relevant issues; trump, age gaps, queer rep, immigration, racism, etc. i can’t recommend this enough!

CODE BLACK (2015—2018) ♡you know those episodes in greys anatomy where everything is life-or-death and you’re on edge for the whole episode? that’s basically every single episode of code black. this is hands-down one of my most rewatched shows ever. i love medical dramas and this one balances well written characters with action-packed medical miracles so honestly what’s not to like??

A DISCOVERY OF WITCHES (2018—)okay admittedly the only reason i watch this show is because of the main couple but i can’t help it when they’re just so gosh-darn cute!! they love each other so god damned much! i wasn’t completely sold on this straight away but by ep 3 i was HOOKED. if you like supernatural romances/dramas that are more mature than your usual cw show, this one is a good choice!

THE OA (2016—) ♡i can’t even put into words how much i adore this?? but also: it will confuse THE SHIT out of you. no matter how smart you are, this one will leave you scratching your head. basically: a group of people who’ve had near-death experiences get kidnapped and experimented on. it’s not as brutal as it sounds, in fact the show is exceptionally beautiful, but it does deal with some hard themes and the good guys don’t always win.

12 MONKEYS (2015—2018)do you like time travel? do you like forbidden and yet totally-still-devoted-to-one-another-anyway love? then this is the show for you! this one is dark and gritty and deals pretty realistically with the concept of time travel & self-sacrifice and what people will give up to create a better world. it’s got a happy ending & you wont regret watching!

THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE (2018)oh this one will make you cry. in a good way though! long story short a family grows up in a haunted house and it affects them in ways they cannot imagine. it’s hauntingly beautiful and poetic and everybody should watch it at least once imo

comedies:

THE MARVELOUS MRS MAISEL (2017—)okay so this one counts as a period drama as well but it’s about a COMEDIAN so i put it in the comedy section lol. okay so long story short, a woman is left by her husband, she’s worth 1000 of him & everybody else knows it because you seriously can’t help falling in love with this woman but ofc there’s period-typical sexism she has to face as she struggles with being a single woman, a single mother, and an up-and-coming comedian. def recommend.

SANTA CLARITA DIET (2017—2019)drew barrymore is a zombie!! who lives a normal life but also eats people!! it’s only weird for the first couple of eps. the family dynamics are snarky and witty and they manage to make gore funny?? honestly this entire show is legit laugh-out-loud darkly hilarious.

#if you like any of these & want some recs that are similar please feel free to send another message!#i've got some movies you might like as well #cool ask tag

9 notes · View notes

wardencommanderrodimiss · 6 years ago

Text

Chapter 20: I can’t come up with a clever summary for this one that doesn’t ruin the surprise of the nonsense I’ve set loose, I’m sorry, I’m tired

[Beginning] [Chapter Masterlist] [ao3]

Trucy has Christmas off from school – or maybe just takes it off, Apollo doesn’t ask these questions – but it is a weekday and the office is open, so Apollo spends it with her and Vera and Phoenix nowhere to be seen. “We would make a great investigation trio,” Trucy says, adjusting the Santa hat that she has moved from her head to Charley now to her wisp so that it, invisible beneath the hat, bobs about the office as some kind of strange holiday decor. “But I also hope no one comes in today, because – spending Christmas in jail because you’re accused of murder. Can you imagine?”

“Or being murdered on Christmas,” Apollo agrees.

Having said that, he still does like to get paid.

It’s cold, fae cold, like every Christmas Apollo has experienced in Los Angeles. (Like every Christmas Apollo has experienced; they didn’t celebrate it in Khura’in. They had their own holidays, things all dimmed down in his memories.) The dusting of snow across the sidewalk melts by afternoon between the bright sun and the foot traffic through the city, but the chill remains, making Apollo infinitely grateful for his Christmas presents from Trucy, a knitted beanie and scarf, even if the colors she chose for him are pink and limey green.

“I know you won’t really get cold,” Trucy had said to Vera, “but everyone should have cute scarves and hats, so you get one, too!” The knitwear she presented to Vera was pink and bright blue, colors that much better match her typical fashion – and her fae form, when she lets her glamour drop to hold the yarn against her skin. Trucy insists on a selfie with the three of them; right before she clicks the button, Vera washes away her watercolor skin, and grinning back from the photo are three apparent humans.

“Maybe shouldn’t have photo evidence that I’m not human,” Vera says quietly, but she is already reaching for her sketchpad and scribbling a tiny self-portrait, fae ears and all, in the corner of a page. She still takes a sketchbook everywhere with her but doesn’t keep it in hand at every moment, seeming a little more able and willing to express herself with words and either of her own faces.

Trucy tells them that she has also made Ema a scarf so that she can contribute to the scientific assessment that Trucy expects of Iris’ yarn. “Daddy says that humans who spend a long time in the fae world end up with kinds of glamours, too,” she explains to Vera, after catching her up on Iris. Apollo wonders who Phoenix learned this from; if he knew that, shouldn’t he have figured out what Klavier was sooner? Or is this another fact he’s only put together after that one realization? “So we’re all wondering what properties these might have. I expect you to take notes on anything strange while you’re wearing these. Like if people start telling you you’re more attractive.”

Apollo snorts. Trucy smacks him on the arm. “This is for science, Apollo!”

“How much do you talk to Ema, again?” He can’t say that he isn’t curious – could something like this be the origin of the infamous Magic Panties? – and he can’t say that he isn’t more curious than afraid nowadays, but he also can’t say that he’s not afraid of where this curiosity will take them. Everything Clay impressed upon him for thirteen years has collapsed in eight months.

(And Dhurke – well, maybe there was a nugget or two of advice Dhurke left him, half-forgotten, but he let Apollo and Nahyuta make their mistakes, and as far as that goes, Apollo is definitely making mistakes.)

Trucy is powerful, he’ll give her that. And if anyone can turn stage magic into entertainment in a city so full and wary of real magic, it would be her. (That seems to be her latest career aspiration, the latest turn of her Youtube channel after her stint as a cover artist, but she laments that it’s hard to really perform when she knows her audience could easily believe she’s just cleverly editing her videos.)

(If he really thinks about it, he wonders if she, like Klavier, has some innate glamour, if at least some part of her force of personality and charisma and likeability is magic.)

“I have two more very important things to tell you,” she says over a late lunch of Chinese, because Eldoon’s isn’t an option with Vera and he apparently takes some holidays off anyway.

“Uh-oh,” Apollo says.

The lights blink between two stages of brightness; Apollo still can’t really say he’s used to Mia’s rare laughter. “Excuse you!” Trucy says. “I object! I am having a New Years Eve party here and was going to tell you to come and invite your friends but now you are uninvited! Polly is, anyway. Vera you’re still good.”

“You can’t blame me!” Apollo says. “The amount of strange things that happen with Mr Wright, I never know if you’re just gonna tell me that he’s – I don’t know, got summoned back to the Twilight Realm for a stint and you need to crash on my couch – or whatever.”

“Oh, Daddy’s just over at Uncle Miles’ office today,” Trucy says. “Probably not actually doing work.”

“Uncle Miles?” Vera asks the question that Apollo was about to.

“Oh – Mr Prosecutor Edgeworth. Polly, you met him, right?”

“Prosecutor Edgeworth? I – yeah.” So he and Phoenix are close, close enough that Trucy calls him family. That’s probably important to know, another piece to Phoenix’s wide and varied social circle. “Well uh, I guess it’s good that he hasn’t been disappeared by the fae or something.”

“Oh, we’d be warned if something happened,” Trucy says. The cryptic vagueness of that statement seems fitting somehow. “There’s no need to worry!”

Apollo wouldn’t say he was worried; rather more of a neutral expectation he has that Phoenix is someday going to flake in some grander way than he did setting up the Jurist System.

“Anyway, New Years,” she continues. “I’m inviting a friend from school, and Ema, and a couple other people she and I know, and you can invite Clay if you want, and I need your phone for Prosecutor Gavin’s number to invite him.” She extends her hand, palm facing upward, to him.

“Erm,” Apollo says.

“Or you can invite him yourself,” Trucy says. She draws her hand back. “Do you think he’ll be more likely to say yeah to you or me? I mean, I’m cute but you already talk to him on the regular, so it could go either way.” She claps her hands together. “Okay, we’re decided: you invite him on my behalf!”

Apollo wouldn’t say that they actually decided it so much as Trucy decreed it, but sure, he’ll go with it. “I thought you and Ema didn’t know each other at all when we first met her,” he says. The tragicomedy of the white powder ordeal is still, and always will be, fresh in his mind when he thinks about Ema. “How do you have mutual friends?”

“Oh, y’know.” Trucy shrugs. Apollo does not know. “She knew Daddy and Uncle Miles back when, Uncle Miles knows other people who I know, then she meets them, then we meet – the usual. Everyone ends up working in the legal system.” She pauses. “Except me.”

“I think you count,” Vera says.

“You’re co-counsel,” Apollo says. “You definitely count.”

“I guess you’re right,” Trucy says. “Magic just keeps ending up hand-in-hand with the law.” She sits forward conspiratorial, steepling her fingers in front of her face. “Now,” she adds, unable to stop herself from grinning, “the second thing. This is top secret, invite-from-me-only stuff. It’s a secret family tradition that I’m only inviting the two of you and Ema and Kay’s tagging along because she’s like a superspy and found out about my conversation with Ema – anyway.” Leaving Apollo with little time to parse that sentence – does he know who Kay is? Has he heard that name before? He doesn’t think so – Trucy holds up a pointer finger. “You are both cordially invited to The Gourdyversary.”

“The what?” Apollo asks.

“The Gourdyversary,” Trucy repeats, sounding very serious but still grinning all the while. “The Gourdy Anniversary. It’s a very very secret Wright-Butz friendship tradition that is also very very important for the upkeep of Gourd Lake Park.”

“You’re losing me,” Apollo says. “Also, if it’s this secret, and you’re busting it open to everyone--”

“Not everyone! I thought Ema would be super interested, and Kay was being stalky, like I said, and then the two of you are super important parts other parts of the Wright-Butz social circle, so I was allowed to invite you!” Her eyes narrow in concentration. “Also,” she says, with an air of recollecting something, “Daddy mentioned you specifically, Polly, said that he’d like to see the look on your face because you always react a lot to finding out new magic stuff.”

“Great,” Apollo mutters. “I cordially decline your invitation.” He looks at Vera, who is just as confused as him, blinking her huge eyes owlishly at Trucy. “Wait,” he says. “‘Butz’? Who’s that?”

“You know – oh!” Trucy laughs and falls further back into the couch. “You don’t! That’s Uncle Larry’s other last name, the one he had first.”

On one hand, Apollo can’t really blame someone for wanting to be rid of that surname, especially in a profession where names are as important as they are to authors. On the other hand, there’s a certain expectation that Apollo has come to have. “Is this a fae thing in some way?”

Vera is the first to nod. “Deauxnim was one of the names his mentor used.” It appears thoughtless now, both the way she starts to raise her hand to her lips and the way she puts it back down. Is another incentive for her to break her habit of chewing her nails how strange the thought must be that she also has claws in a different form? Could it be possible for her to chew her claws off? “The last name she used before… before she died. She gave it to him.” She picks at the eraser on her pencil, clearly for something to do with her hands. “He – Mr Laurice offered it to me, too. If I want – if I want to sell my art someday and use it for my career, I could be…” She frowns at her sketchbook. “Vera Deauxnim.”

“I’d do it!” Trucy says. “It’s a good name, Uncle Larry says, and Uncle Valant always told me that it’s good to have spare names in case you really need to give one away.” She frowns, too. “But he only had one name. He was only ever ‘Gramarye’.”

“I know it’s a good name,” Vera says. “Mr Laurice says it’s lucky. But I have my name already, and it’s my dad’s. I shouldn’t – I shouldn’t give that up. Should I?”

“You’re not giving up anything!” Trucy says. “You’re Vera Misham and you can be Vera Deauxnim, like I’m Trucy Wright and then Trucy Gramarye on Youtube because that’s both my family and I can be both. Like Prosecutor Gavin said about different faces.” She spreads her hands wide in the air in front of her like she’s spreading something out for them to look at. “We contain multitudes!”

That pulls a grin onto Vera’s face.

“I must’ve missed when you started going by Gramarye again,” Apollo says. She’s called herself Trucy the Enigma, which he knows is a reference to her father’s name, and that was as far as he knew.

“Yeah,” she says, stretching herself out further on the half of the couch she has claimed. “It was sometime after we talked about just – me, and magic, in general, all that. And I thought, it’s my mom’s name too, I want to keep it for her. So I’ll make it mean something good, like I think it should be. Like I used to think it was.”

He wonders if when she holds the mitamah she hears something like he heard music; he wonders if he’d hear it again if he picked it back up. Sometimes he feels drawn to that drawer of Phoenix’s desk, a compulsion to understand who she was – is? A dead body with a bullet in it but a soul that is still here glowing? – that he stifles again and again. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, knowing how hard it all hit Trucy, knowing that she still can’t always find the light behind her eyes, but she forestalls him with a red-tinted grin. (A lie. Her smile is a lie, and it’s magic, a fae blessing, that tells him this.)

“Man, names are so complicated,” she says. And Apollo sees red and oh, this is the limit of it, isn’t it? Her smile is a lie but while he’s seeing that, any words she says might be true, might be a lie, and he’s already going to be stuck on her expression.

(Who was it that gave him Truth? Which one of them thought that was the most important gift? Dhurke? Datz? Nahyuta?)

“And they’d be this complicated even without all the magic,” Trucy continues. She cranes her neck to look at Vera’s sketchbook. “Ooh, nice!”

(Complicated, nonmagic, Apollo knows that too. On his birth certificate, a forgery, his father’s name is Jay Justice because his stage name was Jangly and they didn’t know his real name and even Datz who had the papers drawn up seemed to realize that they couldn’t put that down and just the initial J was a little sparse. His mother’s name they made up entirely. Dhurke named her Hera, because he always thought he was funny. Apollo had looked it up sometime in middle school. Hera wasn’t even the mythological Apollo’s mother.)

Vera has Trucy’s phone balanced up on the piano, showing off the selfie, and she is sketching from it but for herself, pointed ears and big eyes. “So what is the, um, Gourd… Gourdversary?”

“Gourdyversary,” Trucy repeats, as though she is teaching them an actual word that they might need to know. “You know Gourd Lake Park, maybe?” Vera shakes her head. Apollo nods. It was in the vague area of Apollo and Clay’s high school and a corner of the park was the popular hangout for stoners, which meant Apollo wasn’t surprised when a lake monster was sighted there. (He was surprised that tourists and not stoned kids who first made the claim.) In their senior year, he and Clay camped out in the abandoned, allegedly-haunted, boat shack, or tried to, made it to about midnight when Clay swore he heard a voice, and then later lied about it to their friends and Clay’s siblings to claim that they totally spent the whole night there and nothing happened. Every few years there were attempts to revitalize the park and make it a real community location. Those never worked.

“Well,” Trucy continues, “always sometime after Christmas, this year, it’ll be the 27th that, we go, before dawn, to the lake, to make the annual sacrifice.”

“I don’t like the sound of this in the slightest,” Apollo says.

“We don’t sacrifice people,” Trucy says. “C’mon, Polly. Really.”

“I hate that you know exactly what I was about to ask because it is actually a reasonable question in these circumstances.” Apollo smacks his head into the couch and stares at the ceiling. “Sacrifice what, then? To what? The lake?”

“You have to come along to know,” Trucy says smugly. “Exact time and meeting location will be disseminated only to true believers.”

“Believers of what?” Apollo demands.

Vera has folded her knees up onto the couch and has her sketchbook propped against them, her dark human eyes peering out from behind the top of it, darting between Trucy and Apollo.

“You’ll see,” Trucy says.

The next morning, Phoenix enters the office and asks for Apollo’s help getting the doors so that he can carry inside a heavy grocery bag filled with twelve-packs of hot dogs. “What is this for?” Apollo asks, when he’s followed Phoenix into the kitchen (not even asking why Mia wouldn’t get the doors because he knows the answer is going to be that she rightfully thinks whatever is going on is stupid) to watch him maneuver the contents into the refrigerator.

“The Gourdyversary,” Phoenix replies. He pushes the fridge door closed only for it to pop back open and six packs spill back to the floor.

“Is this a hazing ritual?” Apollo asks. “Like, am I getting hazed?”

“Apollo, I’m pretty sure the entire Kitaki case was the universe conducting a hazing ritual on you,” Phoenix says. “Why would I bother with anything else?” He winks. “See you bright and early tomorrow, huh?”

“I haven’t agreed to this ridiculous venture,” Apollo says.

Phoenix slams the refrigerator shut with more force this time. “But are you really going to disappoint Trucy?” He manages to take one step before, in defiance, the fridge spits some of its contents back out. “Come on, seriously?” he asks, turning about in a circle and gesturing helplessly to the room at large. “Just let us do our dumb shit, Mia, c’mon.”

Apollo leaves him to fight with the ghost of his mentor, only to find that Vera has definitively declined to join in on the Gourdyversary, and consequently, Trucy is pouting at him with the most pathetic puppy eyes he has ever seen from a person.

It isn’t that – he tells her, several times, it isn’t that – which gets him, and she, seeing Truth, should know that is the truth, but she keeps proclaiming victory for her powers of persuasion – “Powers of getting people to pity you, if anything” – when he acquiesces. It’s curiosity, purely and painfully, and if it’s only painful in the moment for everything required to make it to the main gates of Gourd Lake Park at 6 am, the chances are high that it’s going to be worse next time. And there’s going to be a next time, he’s sure of it: he’s come to feel at home in an office filled with the lingering wraith of a fae queen, followed Trucy and Klavier in pursuit of grimoires and faery rings, and he’s becoming desensitized, he’s sure of it. He’s on the road to becoming a missing persons report or a cautionary folktale for future generations.

But damn if he isn’t curious as to why Phoenix “cheapskate” Wright bought more than a dozen dozens of hot dogs.

Trucy’s gifts, the scarf and hat, seem to block out the wind better than any other he can recall owning, which Apollo tells her to note down for her experimental records when he reaches the park entrance. Twilight Realm yarn, helping him resist the fae’s cold snaps. The dead brown grass is dusted with snow and a few more errant flakes drift down from the dark sky. Whenever the sun finally rises, they probably won’t see it. Trucy is waiting when he arrives, bundled up in a heavy coat and matching blue knitted hat, scarf, and gloves, and talking with two women. One is Ema, recognizable by the crinkling snack bag in her hands – “Are you aware of the time?” “Yeah, it’s snack time.” – and the dead-eyed glare from over the pink scarf Trucy apparently saddled her with.

The other, Apollo has never seen, but when she spots him, she abandons her conversation and bounds over to him, grabbing his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “Hi!” she chirps. “I’m Kay! Kay Faraday! Super glad to finally meet you, Apollo!”

Finally?

“Uh,” he says, allowing her to wrench his arm about, “I’m sorry, but I have no idea who you are.”

“That’s okay!” She lets go of his hand and strikes a pose, one hand in the air and the other on her hip. None of her clothing seems quite to match, a puffy pink coat with a huge dark scarf, gold hair accessories, and leather gloves that look more expensive than his life. “Kay Faraday, homicide detective, Great Thief and Mr Edgeworth’s first and best assistant, at your service.”

“You lost me at ‘thief’ right after ‘detective’,” Apollo says. He can already see why Trucy likes her, though.

“Get used to confusion,” Ema says dryly. “That’s all she does for you.”

“Rude,” Kay says. She skips back past Trucy and Ema and down the park path. “Let’s go get gourded out of our gourds already!”

“I don’t know what that means but I refuse to do that,” Ema says. She doesn’t move, watches Trucy race after Kay, and then holds out the Snackoos bag to Apollo. “Kay wasn’t even invited. She was just creeping around and was unrelenting in demanding to accompany me in finding out whatever Trucy’s on about.” Apollo declines the Snackoos and she shrugs and shoves a few more into her mouth. “That’s also how she makes friends so watch it or you’re next.”

“I see,” Apollo says, even though he isn’t sure that he does. “It sounds, uh, interesting down at the precinct.”

Ema snorts. “We’re like two steps away from being a coven at this point.”

“Prosecutor Edgeworth said something like that.”

She nods sagely. “He thinks he can stop it but I know it’s futile.” She stuffs the Snackoos into her jacket pocket and pulls her scarf up against the sudden onslaught of wind. “How’s Trucy doing?” she asks quietly, eyeing the distant backs of her and Kay. “Haven’t heard from her much since October and” – a pause, a search for a tactful phrasing that she doesn’t find – “all that shit.”

And it was, nothing but a bunch of shit, no more honest way Apollo can think to say it, Ema cutting back to the heart of the matter. “Better, I think,” he says. “We had a couple conversations about her family and er grandfather that seemed like – like she’s figuring it out.” Or just coping, but even that is harder than it sounds. “And Mr Wright is spending a lot of time looking into the mitamah thing trying to deal with that.”

“That’s good.” She sounds like she means it. “If anyone can find a way to fix it, it’ll be Mr Wright. I’m sure of it.” And on that she sounds so confident that Apollo almost believes her. Isn’t that how Trucy said magic works? And what must Phoenix have done for Ema that she still has such faith in him?

Trucy stands planted in the path ahead, fists on her hips, facing them. “Hurry up!” she calls.

“Bunch of snails!” Kay yells. Ema flips her off but above her scarf, her eyes squint up like she’s grinning.

“So clarify for me how you all know each other,” Apollo says when the four of them have reconvened. Along the edges of the path the trees thin out and he can see the dark glassy surface of the water. “Through Prosecutor Edgeworth?”

“Basically!” Kay says. “I first helped him investigate cases years ago – I saved him when he got kidnapped – then there were some international incidents – I got accused of arson once and murder twice – it was a ridiculous month. And we ran into Emmy” – Emmy? Apollo raises an eyebrow and Ema stares back with unchanging expression – “and she already knew Mr Edgeworth from stuff and she helped us out. And then later working with Mr Edgeworth, I met Mr Wright, and my little apprentice thief.” She throws her arm around Trucy’s shoulders and grins.

“I thought you were my assistant,” Trucy says.

“Anyway!” Kay barrels past that statement. Trucy sticks her tongue out at her. “Then Emmy came back to work at the precinct and hang with me again, and then she met you, and here we are!”

Apollo almost keeps pace with that. He has about half a dozen follow-up questions about the arson and murder, but they’ve come up to the biggest gathering area of the part, a few vendor’s stands unattended for the weather and time of day, and Phoenix and Larry waiting by the one bare tree in the area, the bag of hot dogs at their feet. “Hi, Mr Wright!” Kay shouts. “Hi, Mr Steel Samurai!”

“You’re never gonna let me live it down, are you?” Larry asks.

Kay swings a friendly punch at his shoulder. “Nah, but I don’t let Mr Edgeworth forget about it, either, if that helps.”

“It absolutely does,” Larry says.

“So are you gonna tell us what’s going on or drag out the mystery for a little longer?” Ema asks.

Phoenix and Larry look at each other. “I’m thinking we drag it out,” Larry says.

“I already have my reputation for being cryptic,” Phoenix says, turning his head to stare directly at Apollo, “so yeah, let’s torment the kids a little longer. And besides,” he adds, stooping and wincing as he hauls the bag back up into his arms, “we’ve still got a little further to walk. We’re heading back through the woods there – there’s a little outlet to the shore that’s a little more hidden.”

“The hot dogs are the sacrifice, right?” Apollo asks. Larry gives a thumbs-up. “So then you could just answer what we’re sacrificing to—”

“Wait.” Ema stops walking. “Trucy, you didn’t tell me there was ritual sacrifice involved. You just said ‘hey, there’s something you will want to see, scientifically speaking’ and I asked to make sure it wasn’t a hoax like the last time people said there was something cool at Gourd Lake—”

Phoenix and Larry glance at each other. Trucy looks up at them both. “No,” Ema says. “No, do not tell me that the lake monster is real.”

“You proved in court that it was a hoax,” Apollo says. “You proved that it wasn’t a real—”

“I thought I proved that,” Phoenix says, thankfully not taking any time to dwell on the fact that Apollo knows his cases well enough to know exactly when this happened. “I did prove that loud banging noises aren’t the hallmark of the monster, and that Larry was out on the lake looking for a bigass balloon he’d launched into orbit—”

“The balloon was also very real,” Larry supplies helpfully. “It was the Steel Samurai. It was pretty cool until I slipped up inflating it with the air canister. Launched that, too.”

“—but we were accidentally enlightened as to a little more, when was it – a couple days after the trial?”

“The day after,” Larry says. “And already you were moping about being lonely with Maya going back to Fairyland—”

“—so I went all the way to the bottom of my contacts list and came to hang out with you at your hot dog stand—”

“You had like, three people in your phone then. Don’t pretend like I was your last-ditch social reject friend! You’re my last-ditch reject friend!”

Ema coughs. Phoenix and Larry both clearly take the cue to continue the narrative. “We were about the only people in the park, hanging out back there.” Phoenix points back over his shoulder with his thumb. They are passing by the old boat shack now, its shattered windows and unstable rotting dock, and Apollo shudders. One step on that and it’s straight into the water. “And then, just, out of lake—” He waves vaguely and purses his lips together. “There she was.”

“And that’s why hot dogs?” Apollo asks. “Because he had a hot dog stand then?”

“Yeah.” Larry shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like hey, we didn’t know if it was gonna eat us, figured we’d throw some food that wasn’t us and hope that was enough.”

“And now we come back yearly with offerings to hopefully appease her and never find out why she was sealed away in the first place. Because as it turns out,” Phoenix continues, grinning broadly, far too amused for the fact that they are discussing the potential of some lake monster to eat people, “someone’s flyaway balloon got caught on a warding sigil and tore it off. Make a hoax monster while releasing the real monster.” His grin shrinks just a little. “We found the place where the seal originally was and went looking all over the park hoping to find it and put it back, but no such luck. Not like you can dig magic rocks out with a metal detector.”

“I cannot believe that Mr Edgeworth and I solved an entire murder conspiracy here at this lake and he never told me there’s a real monster in it!” Kay pouts. She does a good impression of a moody teenager, kicking a stray rock out of the way on the path, but she can only hold it for a few seconds.

Phoenix and Larry again exchange a look.

“He uh,” Kay says, her eyes narrowing, “does know about the lake monster, right?”

Phoenix sucks in a breath through gritted teeth. Larry elbows him in the ribs. “This one's all on you, buddy,” he says with a wicked grin. “You justify yourself.”

“Edgeworth does not know,” Phoenix says, sounding pained. Kay gasps exaggeratedly loudly. “Listen, we weren’t on as good of terms back then! He knew the part that came out in court about the hoax, and then I was not exactly sure that he would appreciate me reaching out to tell him no, there’s an entire fae monster actually there now.”

“And the ten years since then where you’ve been on very good terms?” Larry asks, still grinning.

“Fuck you,” Phoenix says to him. “I’d call it eight, also.”

“I think you should tell him,” Kay says. “He could stand to have his preconceptions shaken up every so often, that there’s more magic just chilling around than he thinks there is.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix says dryly, “until he asks me how long I’ve known and I have to figure out whether he’d believe it if I lied to him. Like logically I know the best thing to do, but at this point half of the fear of telling is the ‘why did you not mention that you knew this sooner?’ so I just drag it out even longer in the hopes that we’ll all live and die before Gourdy ever makes a situation where I’d have to mention it to him.”

“That is a very bad way of handling secrets, Daddy,” Trucy says.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I know.” Phoenix frowns and sighs and shakes his head. “Though this isn’t just me covering my ass right now, but I think our new Chief Prosecutor has a lot more important things to deal with.”

The path they follow through the woods is almost overgrown with the tangled underbrush and buried beneath icy dead leaves. Phoenix and Larry, when they aren’t bickering, seem to confidently know the way, leading their small troupe out onto the saddest beach Apollo has ever seen. Sand and mud mix with snow for a slick surface that slopes straight down into the water, and an old weathered sign prohibiting camping is the only apparent clue that people come out here – though why anyone would want to camp here, Apollo has no idea.

Phoenix drops the bag into the wet ground. “Oi, Gourdy!” Larry calls. His voice doesn’t echo on the open lake but seems to be swallowed up by the white fog that has begun to swirl across the surface of the water. “We’ve got your yearly sacrifices!”

“Please don’t say it like that,” Apollo says. “That makes me think you’re going to throw us into the lake.”

“If I’m throwing anyone, it’d be Larry,” Phoenix says.

Larry, standing right at the edge of the water, flips him off over his shoulder. Through the fog, Apollo can see the water rippling, before it moves, pointedly, a long white wake pushing toward the shore. Larry scrambles backwards up the slope to Phoenix and the bag of hot dogs, grabbing an entire pack but not attempting to tear it open.

At first Apollo thinks that it’s a catfish, coming up strangely above the water. Then it keeps rising out of the water, far higher than a fish could, and he sees – he doesn’t know what he sees. It has a face like a catfish with the wide, gaping mouth, the barbels, and the beady eyes at the sides of its head; but past its eyes, it has small pointed ears and an otherwise horse-like body, its skin a slimy-looking brownish-green and its mane a long tangled curtain of seaweed. “Oh,” Kay says, very softly. “Oh, geez.”

Larry tosses the pack of hot dogs, plastic wrapping and all, in an underhand arc toward the creature. It stretches its neck out and catches the hot dogs in its wide mouth, throwing its head back and appearing to swallow the package whole. “You feed it plastic?” Ema asks. “It – her?”

“I call her ‘her’,” Phoenix says, “but that’s mostly because all the most powerful and terrifying fae I’ve known have been women, and not for any actual reason. But yeah, most of the fae and fae creatures I’ve known also have not been concerned with what humans do or don’t consider edible.”

“That sounds like some people I know,” Ema says. Kay pouts, but Ema isn’t looking in her direction. Her eyes are fixed, understandably, on the horse-catfish creature.

“S’good as far as keeping litter out of the lake,” Larry says. He grabs another package to throw. Phoenix hasn’t reached for the bag but is instead grinning at the stunned expressions on their three faces. “But yeah, we just show up, feed it a couple dozen hot dogs, and then do it again next year. Simple stuff.”

“So you really did just invite us to see the looks on our faces,” Apollo says. Phoenix’s grin does not waver. Trucy grabs two packs out of the bag and tosses them each at different sides of the creature – Gourdy, they call it Gourdy, a cute name for something that is frankly terrifying – and it swings its head about, inhaling one after the other.

“Worth,” Kay says, still wide-eyed.

“You weren’t even invited,” Ema says. She frowns, staring up at Gourdy from narrowed eyes. Is this how tall horses usually are? Did it get the size right when it took this nebulously horse-like shape? “I wonder,” she mutters, more to herself than anyone. “Do you think it always looked like this, or it tried to look like things that do exist in our world as a – disguise, I guess. An attempt at one?” She glances over to Phoenix. “Because you’ve said the fae in their true forms look sort-of but not quite like humans, but that they can’t really – alter their glamoured appearances very much?”

Phoenix nods. “It’s more innate,” he says. “What, say, Mia looked like is what Mia looked like. She didn’t just decide, oh, when I pretend to be human I want brown hair. But that’s just the fae, and fae animals are an entirely other barrel of catfish.” He reaches up to adjust his beanie. “Horses. Catfish-horses.”

“Someone who can’t really draw’s idea of a horse,” Apollo offers.

“Don’t be rude!” Trucy scolds. “She’s beautiful!”

Gourdy turns one tiny beady eye on Apollo. Maybe it’s just coincidence, but he decides that he’s not going to say anything that can be perceived as insult again – he doesn’t know how smart this thing is and if it’s fae it probably has very dangerous responses to insults.

“But it’s like…” Ema pulls her phone out of her pocket and starts frantically typing something. “Was it trying to look like natural wildlife? Is it coincidence? Convergent development? How long has it been sealed here and was that before horses were introduced to North America? I have questions!”

Phoenix chuckles and Ema lowers her phone, turning her furious glare on him. “Don’t laugh!” she snaps. “This is interesting! These are real questions!”

“I knew you’d think so,” Trucy says brightly, instantly diffusing the first bits of tension. “And since I dragged you and Polly out on... “ She sighs. “You know. So I thought I’d at least drag you out to some fun magic stuff!”

She thinks she owes them, to make up for the debacle of finding her mother’s soul. Or she was hoping for something like an adventure and wanted to bring them on that. Apollo isn’t sure whether he’d count this as fun, either, learning that there’s a catfish-horse that could probably kill all of them somehow in the lake, but Trucy seems happy.

“I promise I’m not laughing at you, Ema,” Phoenix says, holding his hands up in an attempt to placate her. Apollo doesn’t see that he’s lying. “It’s just nice to see you get a bit of your spark back.”

The angry huff of her cheeks deflates instantly. “I was probably real annoying as a kid, babbling like that the whole time while you were just trying to investigate, huh?”

“Not at all,” Phoenix says, and again, he isn’t lying. “I mean, I’ll admit to having been a little terrified that if I let you out of my sight you were gonna summon something or make a bad deal trying to get more tools for investigating, but I wasn’t annoyed.”

Ema pulls her scarf back up over her nose, but Apollo catches a glimpse of the sad smile on her face as she does. Then she steps forward and grabs a pack of hot dogs, extending it in her hand to Gourdy on approach. With about a foot between its mouth and her hand, she apparently decides not to risk having her arm be swallowed, and she gives the pack a little toss to get it to its destination. “Oh,” she says, “sort of related, Lana asked about you the other day, Mr Wright. Wanted to know how you’re doing.”

“Ah.” Phoenix rubs the back of his neck. “At least with the Jurist System you’ve got something to tell her more than ‘still sucks at playing the piano’.” His sheepish expression looks a little less when he reaches the part about the piano, and Trucy laughs. Apollo again wonders why he ever bothered to get a piano for the office. “Where is she now, anyway? She got out a year or two ago, right?”

“About two years now, yeah,” Ema says. There is a rhythm to them feeding Gourdy, now, Larry, Trucy, and Ema. Phoenix seems content to hang back, and while Kay bounds forward, Apollo has no inclination to join in on this part of it. “She’s out near Reno, just wanted to get away, and she’s talking moving out to London where we’ve got some family. She’s hesitating now that I’m back, or something, but I told her just get outta here, flee the continent, go somewhere that no one knows your name, y’know?”

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix says. “I’d – had that option, honestly, but—”

“But you didn’t do anything,” Ema interrupts. “And she kinda did… most of it.”

“Do you think Gourdy would let me pet her?” Kay asks.

“I would not try it,” Phoenix says. Kay’s shoulders slump.

“She was gushing about the Jurist System when we talked about it, though,” Ema continues, with only a brief roll of her eyes at Kay’s question.

“I can’t imagine her gushing,” Phoenix says.

Ema shrugs. “It’s – a big thing, y’know, to her. To all of us, but, she’d said – she’d said that maybe it could’ve helped stop Darke, put him away before even more people died and…” She looks from her phone down to the hot dog bag. Its contents are mostly depleted but she grabs one and hurls it with a surprising amount of force. “Good for cases like that. Common sense, no evidence, maybe now justice gets served.”

Apollo can’t say why the name Lana, Lana Skye, seems familiar, but he knows with the expression on Ema and Phoenix’s faces, he’s not about to ask.

Kay whispers something to Trucy and, both giggling, Kay hefts the bag and whatever remains in it onto her shoulder and flings the entire thing at Gourdy. Its mouth doesn’t look wide enough to take in the entire bag, but it does – the bag is there and then gone with a wet sucking sound in the time it takes Apollo to blink. He suddenly wonders if when Klavier complains about Vongole eating everything he has, he means everything, takeout containers and all.

“That’s, um…” Ema taps a finger against her chin. “That’s something. Kind of impressive. Kind of horrible!”

“And scientifically fascinating?” Kay prompts.

“Absolutely!”

“That’s all we’ve got,” Larry says to the beast, showing it his empty hands, like he’s sending off a dog that has gotten its share of treats but continues begging. “Good talk as always, Gourdy. See ya next year.”

Gourdy tilts its head, seeming to carefully survey Larry. It trots forward and for a horrible moment Apollo thinks someone is going to be eaten but Gourdy bumps its square fishy head into Larry’s face and makes an arc back into the water. Its tail is the same as its mane, stringy green and brown weeds with sand and grit tangled up in them. The water around it barely ripples as it enters, doesn’t splash when the creature goes from being half-visible to gone, and the wake moving away from them is weaker than the one that arrived. The arc of its hoofprints left in the snowy sand are backwards, like it left the water where it really just entered.

“Very slimy,” Larry says, wiping his face with his jacket sleeve. “Sticky, slimy, would not headbutt again.”

“But you’re friends now!” Trucy says. “Officially!”

“You never knew what its skin was like before?” Ema asks. She has her phone out again for notes. Kay peers over her shoulder. “Or beyond what you could see that yeah it’s probably fishy. How long have you been doing this again?”

“It’s… Shit.” Phoenix shakes his head, laughing again. “Ten years, now.”

“Plenty of time to have observed and thought about some of the questions on my list.” Ema lowers her phone and stares at Phoenix. “I have questions.”

“My answer is gonna be ‘I don’t know’ to most, but go for it,” Phoenix says.

“There’s gotta be somewhere open for breakfast, right?” Larry says. “Right? Who’s up for that?”

“Eldoon’s!” Trucy says brightly.

“Oh no, no no.” Larry holds up his hands and takes a step back from her. “Eldoon’s for breakfast reminds me of being broke as hell and I’m not about that.”

“That mean you’re paying wherever we go?” Phoenix asks dryly. “Since I got the hot dogs and you’re worth your weight in faery gold now.”

Apollo looks at Ema. Ema glances out of the corner of her eyes first at Larry, then Apollo, then Kay. Kay looks back and forth between Phoenix and Larry.

“Metaphorical gold,” Larry says, jabbing a finger at Phoenix. “You can not phrase it like that, so they” – he points a thumb toward Ema and Kay – “can not be terrified.”

“I’m super down for breakfast, if nobody else is gonna say anything,” Kay chirps.

“You not gonna eat garbage for once?” Trucy asks. She says it with a grin so big that Apollo would find it impossible to take offense if she directed those words or similar at him.

“Hey!” Kay protests. “It’s cheap! It’s cost-efficient!”

“Like you have to worry about that,” Ema says, elbowing her. “Like hell won’t be frozen before Mr Edgeworth lets anyone threaten your salary.” Kay elbows her back, apparently harder, because she staggers. “Anyway,” she adds, looking more at Larry and Phoenix again, “Interrogating you both over breakfast sounds great.”

“Do you ever worry that bringing more and more people in on these secrets makes them untenable?” Apollo asks Trucy. It’s probably a better question for Phoenix, but Ema has already begun the process of cornering him. “Just – showing off magic to us all?”

Trucy shrugs. “Maybe?” she offers. She hooks one arm through Apollo’s elbow and the other through Kay’s. “You and Ema already know so much other stuff.” For a moment her eyes are sad, downcast, and then she turns a sharp look on Kay. “You, though—”

“Guilty of whatever you say,” she laughs.

Trucy shrugs again, jostling Apollo’s shoulder too. “But also we’re like family, and family should get to know some of the weird fun secrets that we have.”

Again Apollo wonders at her definition of fun. But family. Or like family. Like-family is nice to have.

Phoenix, over Ema’s head, raises an eyebrow at her. “Hey Truce,” he says. “Does that mean you’re gonna run off and tell Edgeworth without warning me?”

“I might,” Kay says, snickering and nudging Trucy, who bumps Apollo with the force of it.

Phoenix snorts. “Yeah,” he says. “I know you would, but I’m not sure he’d believe you.”

#fic: the seelie of kurain #roddy fanfics

10 notes · View notes