#bro the more you say howdy the less it sounds right

[xx-sketchy-xx]

He turned into a panda almost immediately afterwards

[martuzzio]

The idea of Ren joining the Amputees-Only club sounds so bittersweet... cuz before he knew they were having fun, but also knew that they were allowed to have a bond like that. He never expected to join them.

I can honestly imagine in his first few meetings there's a few times where Ren just cries, poor guy...

Rendog's first Amputee's Only Club Meeting (written under the cut because this one is longer than normal)

Despite what the universe seems to think, Doc is a pretty easygoing guy. Yes, he does look scary as hell and yes, he was a mob boss at one point, but that doesn’t mean he’s a violent person. Well, he’s violent when he needs to be, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. In reality, his favorite moments are all from quiet parts of his normal, boring, daily life as a hermit.

In these everyday moments, Doc likes to process things. He likes to sit in the greenhouse and watch the bio bees work alongside the robot bees. He likes to brush his fingers on the plants and let his half-robotic brain process the data into something that resembles touch. He likes to listen to Grian and Etho chat as they work.

He observes small moments like these because that’s all he really does. He takes in data and processes it. He uses the processed information to judge his surroundings and react accordingly. Sometimes this means that he uses his data to laugh at his friends who make dumb jokes. But sometimes he uses the data to run, hide, or fight back. When all you do is process data to keep yourself alive, it becomes very hard to ignore incoming information.

This is how Doc eventually locates Ren. He wasn’t planning on finding where his longtime friend wheeled off to, much less go searching for him, but Doc unfortunately decided to take a more leisurely route to the bridge and his camera eye caught the slight movement anyway. Doc has to give it to him; the man knows how to hide. The werewolf is in a lesser-used community room, curled into a dusty couch that’s been shoved into the corner. The chrome wheels of his temporary mobility aid reflect off of the window overlooking deep space. Ren has his left leg drawn up to this chest. His stump of a right leg rests on the couch cushion, shunned. Ren’s obviously hid because he doesn’t want to be found, but unluckily for him, Doc was specifically altered to notice things.

Ren’s flinch when Doc claps his hand on his shoulder is almost unnoticeable. Ren looks like he’s either been crying or had a bad allergic reaction to the dust. Doc assumes the former.

“Cub was working on your new parts earlier today. They look pretty sick,” he ventures.

Ren looks like he has the entire universe on his shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” he mumbles. He opens his mouth as if to say more, but instead sighs and slides his eyes shut.

Doc plops down on the couch and slings his arm over the back of the rest. The action makes Ren recoil again, this time more visibly, and Doc pointedly ignores it. Instead, he says, “As much as I want you to come see what Cub is making, you will go to him when you feel like it. There is nothing you need to do right now besides heal.”

Ren barks out a wet laugh. “Bro, I appreciate you so much, but how can stumps heal?”

Doc’s cybernetic hand twitches in sympathy. “You know what I mean, man, and we both know it.” Doc replies. He looks down at the sliver of space between his leg and Ren’s and chews his words. Ren shifts his gaze to Doc’s arm, then to gaze directly at the creeper’s face.

Doc feels uncomfortable in a way he’s never felt before. All of the other amputee hermits were already amputees when they joined the crew. They had time to heal, be angry, and let go in their own ways. He did, too. But now, with Ren sitting next to him, suffering through the same kind of anguish Doc felt when he first woke up from being operated on, Doc suddenly doesn’t know how to act. How do you comfort someone who literally lost a third of their body? As much as Doc knows what that feels like and as much as he wants to help his friend, he might not be able to. He might not ever be able to.

It’s the single most heartbreaking thing that Doc’s realized in a long, long time.

This revelation causes the duo to sit in silence for a long while. Then, Doc gets an idea. His eye shifts to look at his friend. Ren narrows his eyes tiredly but waits anyway.

“The Amputees-Only Club meeting is in a few minutes.” Doc murmurs. Ren is silent, but he plows on. “I think you should come,” he pleads. “I think everyone would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s throat clicks as he swallows. “I’m sure they would.”

“I would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s eyelids squeeze together. “I know you would.”

“Then let’s go,” Doc insists as he pushes himself to his feet. He turns around and smiles as much as he can at his friend, still curled up on the couch. Ren gazes exhaustedly back. “I think it would be a good idea.” He wishes his smile weren’t so frightening.

Ren moves to rub his eyes with his hands but remembers he’s missing one of his arms a little too late. The resulting crumpled expression immediately burns into Doc’s deep storage memory. “I don’t know, Doc.” The werewolf manages after a long moment. “I appreciate you trying to help, but…”

Doc understands. Of course he does. When he first joined the hermits, the idea of a weekly club meeting exclusively for amputees sounded farfetched at best and belittling at worst. Hell, he didn’t even think there were enough amputees on the team to warrant a club. Imagine his surprise when three other people showed up to his first session, all excited he was there to hang out with them.

With this in mind, all he can do is repeat, “I think it would be a good idea.”

Ren stares up at him, and in that moment, he looks as old as Xisuma. But then he gently closes his eyes, inhales slowly and shallowly, and motions for Doc to drag his mobility aid closer. Doc complies immediately.

The journey to the meeting room, like every other journey on the Hermit Craft, is long. It’s made even longer because of Ren’s inexperience with his aid, but Doc doesn’t dare to offer his help. They eventually end up in front of the elevator that Doc remotely called beforehand with his brain chip. When the doors open, Doc lets Ren wheel in first.

Ren is silent in the elevator. Doc tries to catch his expression, but his friend’s unruly hair blocks his vision. “We’re playing cards tonight.” He mentions.

“That’s what you do at every Amputee-Only Club meeting.”

Doc shifts his eye back to the elevator door. “…Correct.”

Ren doesn’t reply.

When the duo finally reaches the Club meeting room, Doc pauses outside for a moment instead of directing his brain to open the door like normal. He glances down at Ren again and murmurs, “if you don’t want to go back, or to your room or something, that’s—”

“It’s fine,” Ren interrupts. He sounds defeated. “We walked all the way here, so we may as well go.”

Doc activates the door without another thought.

The door slides open and reveals the club room. It’s small, smaller than the average community space on the Hermit Craft, but it feels warm. The soft yellow color painted on the walls matches pleasantly with the yellow of the couch cushions. Joe definitely was the one to orchestrate that. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner that’s set up to have nice views of outer space. Various game tables fill the rest of the room, a few surrounded by five chairs. Doc wonders if Ren will notice the new chair addition. Maybe he already had.

The most interesting part of the space, though, is the people within it. TFC is bundled up on the couch, snoring pleasantly and covered in at least ten blankets. His usual plate of cookies is already half eaten. Iskall is standing at the kitchen counter, fiddling with a teacup filled with a mysterious bright pink liquid. His outfit has a few suspicious-looking singe marks at the hem. Finally, Scar is sat at the poker table in the middle of the room, crossed legs resting on an adjacent chair. He’s sorting through a pile of yellow and orange chips. To Doc’s continued wonder, the stack of bright blue cards resting near Scar’s elbow have miraculously not been knocked onto the floor yet.

When the doors open, Scar and Iskall look over. Ren immediately shifts at Doc’s elbow. Doc waits a moment to let Ren speak if he wants to, but when his shorter friend remains silent, he clears his throat in a grinding noise and announces, unnecessarily, “We’re here.”

Scar is so excited that his eyes have turned into little slivers of green. “Ren, I’m so happy you decided to tag along!” He kicks one of the chairs out from the table and clonks his foot on it for emphasis. The blue cards wobble on the edge of the table but still refuse to fall. “Sit down! Iskall can get you something to drink. Have you ever played poker?” He leans forward with the question. “It’s difficult, but I think it’s fun!”

“Uh, I haven’t.” Ren replies awkwardly, still at the door alongside Doc. “I’ve never even heard of it before.”

“Yeah, I would be surprised if you knew about it. It’s one of those old-timey games from TFC’s era.” Iskall says from across the room. He is now by the couch and is gently patting TFC’s fluffy hair to wake him. “Don’t worry that you don’t know. We’ll teach you.”

Ren tries and fails to make a pointed noise of interest, but he still seems intrigued. Doc feels the knot in his chest loosen a little. He rolls his shoulders to relieve some tension and moves to sit down. By the time he turns his head to look back, Ren is already wheeling forward to join him but looks lost as to where he should sit.

“Howdy, Ren. Sit next to me so I can teach you, but I’ll only teach if you’re willing to listen.” TFC, now awake, grumbles good-naturedly as he heaves himself off the couch. With his large frame still wrapped in a dozen blankets, he looks like a huge bear compared to Iskall. Which is impressive, Doc thinks, since Iskall is nowhere near frail. TFC’s metal prosthetic clonks on the floor as he walks over to the poker table. As he sits down across from Scar, he says, “There’s no point in just sitting there and gawking at us. Grab a seat.” He uses his leg to nudge the chair to his left.

Ren blinks and maneuvers his aid to let him sit down next to the astronaut. TFC procures a blanket from his pile and offers one to him. Ren, after slowly settling in his chair, accepts the pink fuzzy blanket. Doc accepts a purple one.

TFC lances over to Ren as he saves the blue cards from the edge of the table. “Poker’s good fun. You’ll get it in no time.” He snorts and flicks his gaze to Scar, who is busy stacking the chips into a pyramid. “This one always makes sure we have a great, long game.”

Scar looks up and winces minutely in a false apology. “Sorry about that.”

TFC chuckles. “Boy, I’ve never had better games than when I play with you.”

Scar’s grin almost sparkles. TFC and Doc grin back and Iskall hides his laugh in his shoulder.

“Anyway, ready for your first game with us amputees?” TFC brings the conversation back to Ren, who suddenly looks a lot more uncomfortable.

“I,” he begins, his eyes flicking to TFC, then Doc, before looking down. “I, well, uh…”

The table is silent. Iskall is staring at the table with his hands in his lap. TFC sighs and begins shuffling the cards. Doc, as much as he wants to clear the air somehow, can’t seem to find a way to do so. Scar just looks sad. He looks right at Ren, almost through him.

Ren stares back, eyes wide.

“You don’t want to be here.” Scar says quietly, finally. It’s not a question. Ren’s choked response makes the ex-convex smile slightly. “You can say so, Ren. You’re not going to hurt our feelings. None of us want to be here. But, as much as we may want to, we can’t change what happened to us.” He falls silent again as he looks at a particularly twisted scar on the back of his left hand. He rubs at it harshly with the pad of his thumb before Iskall stops him. “This might be selfish,” Scar continues, softly, “but I’m happy that I at least don’t have to sit in here alone.”

For a long moment, the table is silent. Then, with a rush of noise, Ren makes a sound like he’s dying. In a certain way, Doc thinks, he is.

“I don’t want to be here,” Ren confesses as his open mouth contorts and tears roll down his face. “I don’t want to be here.”

All Doc can do is wrap his arms around everyone else, encasing Ren and his other amputee friends in his embrace, and wish he could do more.

[windlion]

Malevolent podcast scream-along part 2, let's go!

Roll out of hospital bed, defeat a demon, stagger out into the morning streets with a complete lack of medical discharge-- yep this fits the genre

Ep title: "The Hill." Could it, perhaps, be a Silent Hill?

Let's just assume John-the-Passenger is providing some convenient CON boosts

And either John gave him control of the hand back or this impromptu jam session is a lot more impressive than it first seems

This hits me every time but you guys did not look into the currency value for the supposed time period and I'm just all ". . . well it's already an AU anyways"

(Otherwise SOMEONE lost a hat with like several years' wages in it and I hope those were smaller bills or Arthur is going to be one even-more-conspicuous MFer)

Speaking of: did you really just waltz into a store and ask for a big ass gun, ammo, flashlights, and a crowbar. Did you. Really.

WITH NO ID AND NO STORY

Could you *at least* have presented that in a less suspicious way!

Jon from TMA and Arthur solidarity in being absolute shit at telling lies

Actually they probably had f' all ID requirements in the time period

And then *everyone* is shady/eldritch as fuck! Woo!

You might mention the murder as a reason to be buying a gun?!

Writer nitpick: this is just personal opinion but I like my bullshit to feel grounded, so there's a solid baseline of reality vs Everything Else. . . but it could also be an entirely valid approach to have the narrator being increasingly unreliable and detached from reality because: Cthulhu.

OH delightful it's Creepy Old Lady, round two

*sounds of distant death* Arthur, "Time to be a good Samaritan and die horribly!"

This clearly is going to end well!

"Everyone is *wrong*" YOU DON'T SAY, JOHN

I am waiting for the partner to Come Back Wrong and for that to be why he's not being charged with murder yet because there was not actually a corpse - aside from the possibly-possessed janitor

Arthur: "This is not fast-forwarding fast enough for me!"

John: "You can only trust me, Arthur."

Time to go find your boat with a head in it!

Okay, fine, any boat can have a severed head in it, just give it time. I believe in you, boys

Just two bros. In a boat. Singing love tunes. Chilling 0 ft apart, because one's possessing the other.

John. Eldritch Buddy. You want to sound a little less like a sociopath there, dude

"This is fucked up, clearly we're in the right place."

*squints* ancient graveyard . . . in the US. . . there for centuries . . . why is it European. . .

did you just get suckered into being the new lighthouse keeper

Rude to go tearing up someone's floorboards!

*facepalm* you are not final girl material, Arthur

just got the job and quit again that quickly, for shame

I hope you're prepared for a long swim

Eldritch entity you swing wildly between anger management issues and "Deep breaths, try not to panic"

"Ohhhh Arthur" that's alarmingly sensual

"No part of you is lost to me" *side-eyes*

One thing that's noteworthy to me is that they're not comfortable with silence, that everything has to happen back-to-back, no pauses. Be more confident, linger uncomfortably in your

"I wonder if the voice he heard is this" OR JOHN YOU DIPSHIT

Time for the next cult hideout!

So the mansion was the Black Goat's, who's in residence here?

Oh that's who, howdy, ma'am

and then they find the homemade porn!

Is no one else concerned with the quantity of A names

. . . are you about to become a triple occupancy?

Tentacles! For everyone!

Good times when your eldritch beastie bestie has a mental time out

"Or we could kill her"

You actually took a surprisingly long time to get to the murder plan, you okay?

Uh, eldritch bestie, you should have raised your alarm earlier if you had concerns

Trading off murder sociopath duties, good times

My dude you are definitely not coming across as the most hinged of individuals

. . . this would be an interesting time to just panic and let Satan take the wheel now that Satan doesn't want to drive

exactly 0 people surprised who was responsible for the first death

"Oh this is going to end well" Glad we're on the same page again, bestie

"You must be this much bitch to get admittance" "WELL I GUESS WE'RE BOTH GOING AREN'T WE"

I will be more surprised if any of these people live than the obvious alternative

*looks up from filing nails* Oh, they're dead? Smeared across every surface in the room? You don't say

"Maybe someone's still alive" Do we need to go through this again? Not genre savvy, are we?

Eldritch bestie you are extremely inconsistent, which I suppose ties in well to insanity and gaslighting

"This is our life now" look at that, commitment!

Meat puppet does not enjoy the meaty aspect v much

. . . Why was it so heavy if it was only half?

Ewwwwwww. That will be all.

"did you see it" "DID YOU FORGET I AM BLIND"

Oh, we're doing this again are we

Eldritch bestie you better be paying your rent

Hand in unlovable hand~~~

No really, Lovecraft, what was with all the tentacles

Oh, someone else paid their rent!

I am somewhat amused that everything swears by Christianity aside from the favored F bombs

Right, so this is definitely someone else's playground, eldritch #. . .4?

"We lose guns more than anything else" XD

"It sounded like you" *waving lighter*

And that's Eldritch #5 on the horizon

Time for a screaming head or leviathan maggots?

Eeeeeeey old friend!

Why you lying, why you always be lying

. . . Okay I was worried that was going to be even worse than it was

Aw bestie with domestic daydreams

What's some B&E after a spot of murder?

John did you just make Arthur piss himself over an opossum

A mole-faced possum, you act like you haven't seen one before!

Why you gotta be running from snuffles, what did snuffles ever do to you but SCREEEEEEE

Oh it's you again! Great unhinged minds think alike

And then we're done with ep 10 and time to stop again~

[missholoska]

Can we have a sequel to Undertale - Swap MH meetups where Classic Sans and Noodle, Classic Undyne and Axe, etc. (Basically the character taking their place) meet up (With the exception of Frisk and Chara ofc since you tackled those already)? I'd love to see what Papyrus would think of a version of his brother that's, you know, not lazy

absolutely you can that’s even more my jam

UT Sans & Noodle:

chill skells eating garbage food together :’>

despite the weirdness of seeing their own personality in each other and still expecting this version of their brother to start shouting and running off somewhere like they’re used to, they still end up treating each other as brothers (UT Sans being the older bro, of course).

it’s just a nice goofy hangout until UT Sans starts punning and then Noodle’s like “alright i’m out you can have him back now”

UT Papyrus & Neptune:

THE GREATEST, MOST SANSATIONAL HANGOUT OF ALL TIME

UT Papyrus is the more surprised of the two by his brother’s counterpart - a version of Sans who actually does things? incredible. meanwhile Neptune is less surprised by UT Papyrus’ usual energy since Noodle has his energetic moments too, but he’s very excited to meet a Papyrus who’s like that all the time!

UT Paps is still annoyed by the gratuitous bad puns, but clearly something would be wrong if a Sans hated puns so he can put up with it. they’d spend the time rushing around being cool dudes, sparring together and generally being good bros (again, Neptune being older) until Neptune inevitably runs out of energy and has a nap while UT Papyrus carries him. some things are universal constants.

…honestly though Neptune might be a little bewildered by the hotpants. his brother does not tend to show that much femur

“COULD I, UH. OFFER THE GREAT PAPYRUS SOME LONGER SHORTS?”“WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? MY BATTLE BODY IS A LOOK!!”

UT Alphys & Sci-Fi:

one minute the cutest geeking out together, the next a lot of intense nerd rambling about bad anime sequels and Top 10 Shows That Made You Believe In The Power Of Friendship Again

there will be no cross-universe cheating in my house but neither can deny that seeing a version of their girlfriend in glasses is adorable

Sci-Fi and UT Alphys working together would be a Scientific Dream Team and they’d create the coolest gadgets :D

“S-so, um… b-buff girls, right?”“Oh my god buff girls are great.”

UT Undyne & Axe:

meeting a strong version of her favourite little nerd is just the cutest and coolest thing to UT Undyne very relieved that this even more intense version of Undyne doesn’t have access to dangerous chemicals.

Axe isn’t surprised to see UT Undyne still uses spears (again, she’s just glad they don’t explode with poison gas on impact), but UT Undyne’s reaction to Axe’s, uh, axe? damn that’s a cool weapon

they gatecrash their friends’ other meetups just to see who can lift all of them the easiest

UT Undyne plays piano and Axe loves her anime theme songs, so they’d also have a duet where UT Undyne plays piano covers of anime openings while Axe sings the lyrics~

UT Mettaton & Swap MH Napstabot:

like I mentioned in the previous meetups ask, MTT would be so excited to meet a version of his cousin with a robot body. admiring the gadgets on their gauntlets, love this hairstyle darling, floaty legs?? and they’re monsterkind’s beloved music star? he could not be prouder.

Napstabot is much more surprised to meet Mettaton, still instinctively calling him ‘Happs’ at first but they adjust to his new name immediately. they’re still a little shyer about sharing their music compared to MTT showing off his brand, but his compliments double their self-esteem that day.

the show these two put on together would go down in the history books :’D

UT Napstablook & Swap MH Happstablook:

a very… familiar meeting for the both of them :’> it wouldn’t take long for both to start treating each other like cousins, just like when their own respective cousins were still ghosts.

a quiet hangout consisting of eating ghost sandwiches, UT Napstablook working on a new spooktune remix while Swap MH Happsta writes in his diaries, and chilling with the snails.

occasionally one of them has a moment that surprises the other by how similar they act to their robotic version they’re used to, and neither draws attention to it but it warms their ghostly souls.

I did not expect to have this many Emotions about ghost cousins help

UT Asgore & Orchid:

in a word? tense.

UT Asgore would be quietly shocked to know a version of Toriel could do the same things as him, given how against all that UT Toriel is. Orchid would be very quick to mention it was never her choice, but that anger would just as quickly turn into self-hatred knowing she’s no better than him. she’d at least acknowledge that this version of Asgore had the guts to stick to his decision.

and this meetup sounds so miserable even the characters themselves would notice, so UT Asgore would try to say something meaningful about second chances on the surface. but he’d probably word it some goofy way at the end and that’s what gets at least a hint of a smile from Orchid.

UT Toriel & Dandelion:

UT Toriel would still take issue with knowing Dandelion made the call to kill humans, but her opinion of him would definitely be more positive than how she feels about UT Asgore ahah

Dandelion would be quite glad to meet a version of Toriel whose life isn’t as consumed with grief as Orchid’s, and like the previous meeting of Toriels I think they’d end up talking about both their past and present children. also probably a mention of their respective door pals?

…I swear I was just gonna leave that last sentence without going off about Soriel but I had a thought I can’t not mention: in Swap MH’s post-pacifist Orchid and Neptune get together a few months earlier than my headcanon for when UT Toriel and Sans start dating, so if UT Toriel isn’t already with her Sans at that point then Dandelion just quietly sips his tea with his eyebrows raised knowingly at the way she talks about her skeleton friend.

“…What are you smirking at me like that for?”“Ah, nothing, don’t worry about it. }: )”

UT Flowey & Swap MH Temmie:

Swap MH Temmie probably just assumes UT Flowey is another identical Flowey from the village at first and just keeps up her act. UT Flowey is much more suspicious about this living plushie Temmie but tries to figure them out with his usual friendly facade.

if they meet post-pacifist and therefore aren’t still trying to be antagonists, maybe they’d actually talk openly? they’d both be pretty surprised to know who the other used to be, and very curious to know about how the living version of their respective human sibling is doing.

oh also, UT Temmies meeting Swap MH Floweys: a bunch of weird creatures repeatedly yelling “Howdy!” and “hOI!” over and over and calling each other their best friends. anyone witnessing this just walks away in silence. their mind will never know peace, forever confused and haunted by whatever the Heck was going on there.

UT Monster Kid & Swap MH Asriel:

I’m not sure if UT MK really knows about Asriel and the significance of seeing him alive? they might just be like “hey, you’re a kid too! you kinda look like the king and also my teacher :D”

Swap MH Asriel on the other hand - he knew Swap MH Monster Kid before their death, and wasn’t inseparably close but they were still part of his family. so he’d be a lot more sentimental about meeting them :’>

Swap MH Asriel wouldn’t tell UT MK that they died in his world though (that’s just weird), he’d simply appreciate getting to spend time with them again. they both talk about the cool adults they idolise and practice magic together.

“Hey, MK, do you wanna guess how old I am?”“Um… 10? Maybe 11?”“Close! I’m 113. :3”“???!?? YO????”

[tippitv]

Supernatural recap: 15.04 “Atomic Monsters”

Howdy, recap readers! It's going to be a short one this week as I'm currently battling a cold that's evolved into an ear infection that is currently making me about as well-balanced as a baby giraffe on ice skates. I considered skipping this episode entirely but there were things I really wanted to cover about it.

Namely, there's this opening scene in the bunker. Everything is lit red like a security system has been breached. Indeed, the place is swarming with monsters of some kind. Demons? Yes. Demons. Dean is coolly going about killing them in ballet-like slow motion that speeds back up for the fatal blows.

You can tell at once from the directorial choices that things aren't quite right. The aforementioned lighting is one sign. The influx of demons is another. Then there's Dean's very full beard and imperfect hair. I mean, his hair IS perfect because there's nothing he could do to make it ugly. But it's not its usual texture-puttied self. It's messy and dry, down on his forehead. Dean has obviously not had time to devote to it. All he's got is genetics. The infinity scarf he's sporting is also some kind of indicator of some kind of thing. Maybe it's a sign that he's now some kind of sexy post-apocalyptic lumberjack assassin.

Anyway, what I'm saying is that Ackles, who directed this episode, injected more creativity than regular directors tend to. Which, you know, I get it. Not every episode is going to be innovative. They have a limited schedule and budget. But it does get to a point where many scenes in many episodes feel as if they don't need directors at all. Just have everyone sit down and talk or walk from point A to point B and talk. It gets to be a bit paint-by-numbers so it's nice to have an injection of someone's energy and point of view who's not one of the four or five main directors.

Ah, here's the part where I momentarily lost my shit.

Dean offs a bunch of demons and then pauses when he finds BENNY THE MUTHAFUCKIN FRIENDLY VAMPIRE critically wounded. I've made no secret of the fact that Benny's one of my favorite short-term characters. He had a fantastic intro and a tragic send-off that came too soon.

He dies again (NOOOO) after telling Dean once more, "See you on the other side, brother."

Dean resumes stalking around the bunker in search of the mysterious enemy who turns out to be Sam. Sam's hair is especially bouffant now, which I think is one of the usual indicators of his state of evilness.

And indeed he has returned to imbibing demon blood for reasons we're not yet privy to. We know from their chat that he killed Bobby and Jody (NOOOO) because they got in the way of his doing something. Dean tries to talk some sense into him but Sam's eyes go black and he telekinetically breaks his bro's neck.

In the present day, a non-demonic Sam wakes up with a start. He doesn't tell Dean which means at some point we're going to get an angry confrontation about why Sam didn't mention sooner that something was wrong.

Also, I don't know if Sam is supposed to be a full vegetarian these days but at the least he doesn't eat meat-based bacon anymore, so Dean lying about the kind of bacon he's been buying is a dick move. Also, we're super late in the timeline for Dean's masculinity to still be so fragile. Stop acting like a bite of soybean is going to make your testicles detach from your body and Plinko their way down your pants legs.

Okay so the A-plot is this: Sam and Dean investigate a high school cheerleader's death. It's immediately apparent that the parents of some lacrosse boy are involved because they have that standard "we're vaguely familiar Canadian actors whose characters get more attention than non-villains would warrant" introduction. Now, in a logical world, Sam and Dean would immediately peg them for murderers or at least accomplices, because they've seen this pattern play out many times, but then the A-plot would be over. Long story short: Their son got turned into a vampire but they want him to have a normal life where they live vicariously through his lacrosse successes at Yale. The kid's less of a monster than his parents, and volunteers himself for a beheading. It's a little bit sad but we spent more time on misdirection than getting to know him. It was too late to cure him but Dean could've mentioned his pal Benny who gave up killing. Then Sam could've made an uncomfortable face that communicated "THIS IS RELEVANT TO MY VISION BUT I CAN'T SAY ANYTHING."

Noteworthy is the use of Jensen Ackles's own song "Sounds of Someday" over the ending of this plot. He has a lovely singing voice and it's different enough from his Dean speaking voice (no gargling with gravel here) that I'm not sure I'd notice if I were just a casual viewer.

Now for the B-plot which is actually the more important plot to the season: the return of Supernatural fangirl Becky.

As with probably many of you, my first reaction was to shudder because eight years wasn't enough for me to forgive and forget the utter grossness of "Time for a Wedding!" That one's right up there with the manwitch dog episode for grossness with me. But Becky's gotten herself sorted out and is disgusted by her own actions towards Sam back then, so I'm kind of glad she showed up.

Who else shows up? Chuck Almighty. In need of an ego boost, he intrudes upon Becky's life. She's got herself a handsome husband and cute kids now, and her own Etsy store selling handcrafted Supernatural merch, but she feels a grain of pity for her old boyfriend. Thinking he's an abandoned prophet, she encourages him to get back to writing, but has a little bit of concrit for his new Sam and Dean fluff fic.

Y'all ever had a fic writer who said they wanted a beta reader but then got super mad at even the most helpful advice? Yeah, that's Chuck.

So he starts writing another story. This one is tortured and dark and painful. I think it's basically supposed to be Sam's dream from the opening. But I think the show fundamentally misunderstands something about fans and writing here. Becky says she hates the story because it's dark and hopeless. That's not necessarily why fans hate certain endings. A dark seemingly hopeless ending can feed a fandom for decades and spawn a million fics. But one that isn't earned? One that doesn't feel like a natural outcome of what came before? That's the stuff of shit heaps. That's the stuff people hate.

In writing, a gut punch is good. A sucker punch is bad.

Chuck finally reveals to Becky that he's God by disappearing her husband, her kids, and eventually her, too. Now he's just gonna squat in her house and use her computer. Ex-boyfriends are the worst, amirite?

So that's it for this week. Please reblog if you enjoyed this recap and visit my virtual tip jar if you can: https://ko-fi.com/A4017DA

I'm consistently broke and could use a supply of Nyquil and/or ice skates.

[falseroar]

Anniversaries Prequel: A Little Magic

((In the middle of everything else going on this week, it’s the one year anniversary of the beginning of my WKM fanfic, Can You Wake Up? which has kind of kept going throughout the past year in other series. So to celebrate, here’s this short Anniversaries series. There’s only four parts (not counting this one), but they’re a little (or a lot) longer than normal, because I wanted them to come out on specific days.

Also you should know I nearly called this series the Beach Episodes.))

“So, that’s the general idea,” Marvin said. His bright blue eyes, highlighted by the cat mask he wore, flickered back and forth between the two of you. “We just need to test it out.”

Jameson twisted his mouth as he considered the magician’s offer and spoke, his voice silent but a speech slide with his words flashing before Marvin and yours eyes after a slight delay. “Sounds fascinating, but are you sure it’s safe?”

“I’ve done the research and the spell itself is good, we just need to make sure the timing delay works.” He looked at you as he added, “The last thing we want is any surprises on the big day.”

You nodded, even though you could understand why Jameson looked so nervous. Something about this spell Marvin had dug up just in time sounded too good to be true, but then you weren’t sure how long he had been searching for it, either.

“And,” Marvin added as he held up another book, “I have a reversal spell right here if it doesn’t go back the way it should.”

Jameson tapped his finger on the long table that took up most of the space in the room. As far as you knew, the conference room in the Septic ego house was barely used outside of the occasional Bro Average video shoot, and Marvin had claimed that it would give you all more privacy than the other rooms. Plus, it gave him extra space to spread out all of the books and materials that he apparently needed for this spell.

“I still don’t see how this can work as a surprise if we need all of this,” you said, and the magician shrugged.

“We already know who we want it to affect, and for how long. Knowing that much, I can easily set it up beforehand so it can be triggered at the right time, even by someone else.”

“But why an hour?” Jameson asked Marvin. He glanced at you, his brow furrowed. “That seems like a long time!”

“It’s a nice, round number, and easy to scale,” Marvin answered. He grinned and added, “Plus, it’s just long enough for us to have some fun if it does work…Or, you know, fix it before we get in trouble or risk spoiling the surprise.”

His smile faded as he locked eyes with you and added, “Of course, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Y/N.”

“No, I want to at least try,” you said and, seeing that Jameson was still concerned, added, “I’ll be okay, really.”

He returned your smile out of reflex, but he still seemed less than sure as he said, “Then take it away, magic man!”

Marvin nodded and began to read aloud from the thick leather volume that took up most of the space in front of him. The words blurred together into a variety of whispers and it was hard to keep the masked magician sitting across the table from you in focus. Beside you, Jameson also blinked and shook his head as if trying to stay awake.

But it was when Marvin turned the page without pausing for breath that you felt something lurch in your stomach and had to lean forward, your forehead almost touching the table, to keep from being sick as the room spun around you. It wasn’t until the speech slide flashed across your vision that you realized the spinning and the spell had stopped.

“Golly! …That don’t look right, Marv.”

For a moment, you wondered how you had ended up on the floor as you stared down at the polished wood beneath your hands and knees, but it slowly occurred to you that there was carpeting in the conference room, not hardwood floors. You looked up and the room seemed to twist again before settling into the image of Marvin across the wide expanse of the table between you, his mouth open but no sound coming out, and the shape of Jameson looming large to your left and behind you.

Both stared down at your small form as you slowly got up to your feet and patted yourself down. Aside from the size, you otherwise seemed fine.

“…Marvin?” you asked, and a choked sound came from the magician before he clamped a hand to his mouth.

“Mark is going to kill me. Dark is going to kill me…They’re going to fight over who gets to kill me first.”

“Or maybe they’ll team up and do it together,” Jameson added, receiving a glare from Marvin in response. The ego leaned down so that he was on eye level with you and you quickly backed up until you were around the center of the table. That close, Jameson was just too big. “How do you feel?”

“Better now that the spell’s stopped, but…” You gestured down to yourself and turned around to face Marvin. “What went wrong?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know! It should have worked, I went over it again and again, I—” Marvin paused in the act of flipping the page back to the start of the spell. With a dawning sense of horror, he turned the page again before using his thumb to peel apart what turned out to be two pages, stuck together by…yeah, you don’t want to think about what was sticking them together. He groaned and his forehead hit the table with a thump so hard it nearly shook you off your feet. “I mixed two spells together.”

“Can you fix it?” you asked and felt a sudden surge of relief when you heard the muttered yes come from the magician’s slumped form.

He tilted his head up so that his chin now rested on the tabletop and studied you for a moment. “A simple growth spell should do it?”

You exhaled through your teeth and said, “Not really sounding sure there, Marvin.”

“Don’t worry, I can fix this,” he said, making an effort to sound more sure of himself as he sat up and began flipping through the second book. The frantic flipping of the pages sent breezes of air your way that smelled of dust and old paper, and you had to turn away to keep from coughing or sneezing.

“Well, now we know if the first spell doesn’t work, we always have a backup plan,” Jameson said. He reached out carefully with a single finger and gently, gently touched the top of your head. “A tiny Y/N would make for an adorable birthday present!”

“Knock it off!” you said, pushing his finger away but trying not to laugh. “I don’t think I’d ever live it down if the others saw me like this.”

“Ah, we can fix this before any of the others find out, and definitely before I get into trouble,” Marvin said, just a split second before someone knocked on the door.

The world around you went dark as Jameson dropped his bowler hat on top of you, and through the fabric you could hear the clatter of chairs knocking back before Marvin asked in the guiltiest voice ever, “Who is it?”

“Howdy bitches!” You heard the giggle that immediately followed that greeting and didn’t need the speech slide from Jameson to realize who it was.

“Jack! What brings you around here?”

“I thought I’d drop in for lunch with you guys today,” Jack said, by the sound of it walking fully into the room. “Huh, I thought Schneeps said Y/N was in here with you two.”

“They, uh, had to go home early—” Marvin said, just as Jameson’s speech slide crashed into view with the words, “They went to their room—”

Both stopped short, and the three of them failed to see you facepalm in the darkness beneath the hat before you reached underneath the brim and lifted it up and over until the hat rolled back.

“Hey, Jack,” you said, and he immediately clamped a hand to his mouth. Well, now you knew where Marvin got that gesture from.

“I can fix it?” Marvin said, one hand tugging nervously on the corner of his blue cape.

“Marvin was trying to help me with a spell,” you said quickly, before Jack could say anything to the ego. “We were just testing it out, and something went wrong.”

“Just a LITTLE wrong,” Jameson said and grinned when Jack couldn’t fight back a smile at that.

“You…” Jack swallowed back whatever he was going to say, looking a little disappointed in himself for laughing at that. “What have I told you about trying out your magic on the others?”

“Have a camera running in case it’s funny?”

You shot Jack a look and he shrugged. “Funny’s funny. Can you really fix it?”

“Just a simple growth spell,” Marvin said again as he turned back to his book. “Just give me a second.”

“Then I’m going to do this,” Jack said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Don’t you dare,” you warned, but he’d already snagged one picture, and then he and Jameson were kneeling beside the table, camera angled to catch you standing behind them.

“You guys suck,” you said after he was done, as if you didn’t stick your tongue out or make faces in more than one of those pictures.

“Okay, got it!” Marvin said, and pointed his finger at you as he began to read from the second book. You saw green sparks fly around his finger, but when he finished the returning back to normal thing failed to happen. He tried again, and again, before dropping the book and sinking back into his chair with a groan.

“…Mark might actually kill us,” Jack said and the magician’s head hit the table.

“I should have stuck to card tricks.”

“But you’re much better at real magic than that flim-flam sleight of hand!”

Marvin muttered something dark into the surface of the table.

“Marvin?” You called his name but the ego just groaned again. You looked up at Jack and Jameson, both of whom looked completely lost as to what to do now, and walked over to Marvin. It took several seconds to cross the distance of the table before you could reach out and pat the top of the magician’s head. Your arm sank halfway up to your elbow in his long green hair but he shifted slightly, showing that he at least felt it. “I know you can figure this out. You’re Marvin the Magnificent, right?”

“…That’s what it says on my underwear.”

“Could’ve gone without knowing that,” you said, and the ego chuckled.

“Perhaps we could take a second look at the original spell?” Jameson suggested. “Or spells. You said you had a way to undo one of them.”

“Well, I had a way to undo what the spell was supposed to do, in case the timing effect failed—”

Marvin looked up so quickly that his forehead knocked you off your feet and you had to cling to the top of his cat mask for support, only to have the table disappear from beneath your feet.

Marvin hissed and quickly caught you in his hand before you could fall. “Sorry about that, but I just realized, the hour effect, see?”

He put you down on the book and pointed at the first part of the spell, as if any of the words scrawled beneath your feet had meaning for you.

“Uh, what?” Jack asked.

“The spell, I was testing how it would respond to a kind of timer,” Marvin explained. “All we have to do is wait an hour from when I cast it, and it should wear off!”

“You’re sure?” you asked, wary of getting your hopes up this time.

“Yes, yes, it makes sense, the timing and who it’s supposed to affect are in the first parts of the spell; it’s just when I turned the page that I missed what it was supposed to actually do.” Marvin ran his finger down the page as he spoke and then flashed a smile at you. “I’m sure of it. All we have to do is wait an hour.”

You frowned, thinking about what Marvin said. “But why did it just affect me then?”

The magician shrugged. “It could be a side effect of mixing the two spells. It was supposed to affect one of you and then the other, but it’s not like there was anything to transfer in this case.”

Jameson pulled out his pocket watch and tapped it before saying, “I told you an hour seemed like a long time!”

Jack exhaled and it was only then you realized just how worried he had been. “But we can handle that, and no one needs to tell—”

He broke off as a tune started to play somewhere in the room. At the same time, you felt the vibrations running through the table and book beneath your feet and glanced back at your phone, normal-sized and lying where you left it by your seat.

Jack leaned over to look at it and said, “It’s Wilford.”

“Yeah, I better answer it,” you said. Last time you missed a call from him, he barged into the room you were in with his gun drawn, reciting lines from Taken. Not the best way to wake up at 3 in the morning.

Jack propped up the phone and you had to use both your hands to get the green answer button to respond and to turn on the speaker so he could hear you.

“Hey Wilford,” you said, and immediately had to clamp your hands over your ears when he responded in his usual loud, booming voice.

“Y/N! Where are you, you scamp?”

“I’m at the Septic egos’ house today, remember?” you said, taking a step back from the phone as you did so.

The distance didn’t help as Wilford’s voice boomed out again. “Well, get back over here! We’ve got things going on here, you know!”

“Uh, I’m kind of busy here, Wilford,” you answered. “If this is about the meeting—”

“Meeting?! We have a meeting today? You should have told me, I’ll be there in a second to pick you up!”

“No! I mean, no, that’s okay, Wilford,” you said, trying really hard to ignore the other three right now. “Mark said he could handle the meeting by himself this time, remember? And you’ll be there to help him, right?”

“You know, it almost sounds like you don’t want me coming over there,” Wilford said, laughing even as his tone changed.

You looked up at Jack and the two egos, who silently tried to gesture and mouth answers all at once. Even Jameson was avoiding using his speech slides, as if afraid Wilford might “hear” him.

“That’s because…I’m working on a surprise for someone else, with the Septic egos,” you said. “And I really need to keep it a secret from the others. You understand, right?”

“Oh, a secret,” Wilford said. “Say no more, Y/N, I can keep a secret better than anybody! Why, I can even keep a secret from myself if I want to, and don’t even get me started on keeping secrets from the audience.”

“…Okay? I mean, thank you for understanding, Wilford, I—”

“I’ll just be by to pick you up after the meeting’s over!”

Before you could respond, he hung up and the phone went back to its lock screen.

“…I really hope you’re right about that time thing, Marvin,” you said, trying hard not to imagine what Wilford might do if he found you this size.

“I suppose we have nothing to do but wait,” Jameson said, but then a mischievous grin crossed his face and he scooped you up in hands. “And use our remaining time to show the others!”

Your protests were soon drowned out by Dr. Schneeplestein, Jackieboy Man, and Chase cooing over you as Jameson proudly showed you off.

“You all. Suck. So much,” you said when he finally put you down on the coffee table in the living room.

Your only consolation came roughly forty-five minutes later, when it turned out that Marvin was right about the spell only lasting an hour and you were back to normal size, if a little embarrassed to be sprawled out on the couch on top of Chase.

Well, maybe not your only consolation.

After all, it turned out that Marvin’s spell had worked even better than he thought, if not quite in the right way. Jameson crossed his arms as he dangled by his vest from Jackieboy Man’s thumb and forefinger, his speech slide a little faded as he said, “An hour is way too long!”

“He might be right,” Marvin said to you quietly as the two of you stood and watched the others at a distance. “Are you sure about an entire 24 hours?”

You bit your lip but nodded. “If you think we can get everything figured out in time.”

“We’ll work out every little problem,” Marvin said, and shrugged at the look you gave him. More serious this time, he added, “And we’ll all be there for you, the day after. Promise.”

((End of the prologue. Thank you for reading! There’s a hint or two on what’s coming up over the next few days, but I’m hoping there will be couple of surprises along the way.

Link to Part 1: The Best Laid Plans

Tagging: @silver-owl413  @skyewardlight @cherrybomb-jaguar @blackaquokat  @catgirlwarrior  @neverisadork @luna1350  @oh-so-creepy @purpstraw  @weirdfoxalley  @95fangirl  @lilalovesinternet-l @thepoolofthedead  @a-bit-dapper @randomartdudette  @geekymushroom @cactipresident  @hotcocoachia @purple-anxiety-blog @shyinspiredartist ))

[manifestoonmoralmanlove]

Help I’m being harassed by the #1 sexeist man! Review

Sorry I had this mostly finished on the backburner for awhile but Soulless grabbed my attention pretty hard.  BUT NOW THIS IS FINISHED! I hope you enjoy!

Summarize

So the story is as follows…Takato is an actor who was voted Japan’s sexiest man for a few years in a row. However his title is usurped by this dude named Junta that he’s working on a new movie with.  Takato is salty about this but is professional about it and just kinda harbors secret bitter feelings.  He is polite to and gives advice to Junta when asked.  Junta invites him out to drinks, Takato doesn’t want to but everyone within a 5 mile radius swoops in to pressure him into it so he caves.

GOD WHY IS THAT A THING? That for sure happened in Love Stage and I’m sure I’ve seen that trope elsewhere.  Where not just a 3rd party will pressure a reluctant uke but like a fucking horde of strangers with nothing to gain from it just crawl out from under the fucking floor boards like little hack-handy roaches to advance this shitty plot.

ANYWAY!

Junta gets Takato drunk, films embarrassing stuff that he threatens to blackmail him with, and a fucking horror scene of a rape ensues.  Like, not dissimilar from Junjou in the fact that the atmosphere is drawn as oppressive, the uke is riddled with very palatable fear, the seme wears crazed expressions, and behaves violently.  Hell, Takato manages to shove him off and tries to lock himself in the bathroom for his own safety but Junta rips the door off its fucking hinges. Takato PLEADS like BEGS for him not to but he is violently raped against the wall while Takato cries saying OUT LOUD that THIS IS RAPE!  Afterwards he’s crying and shaking, talking out loud about how he’s frightened if others find out and feeling humiliated.

Junta picks him up and is like, “Man I guess I got carried away, but like REAL TALK I have a crush on you. The rape was kinda bad I guess, but it’s not my fault cause I literally cannot control any of my actions. I can prove I like you by having gentle sex with you in the bed.”

Takato agrees to this.

I BEG YOUR FUCKING PARDON?!

The implication here is that Junta just looked SO SWEET! But like also it wasn’t gentle sex at all and Junta is going to continue to blackmail him. HAR HAR!

Like here is a hot fucking take authors and fans of this particular type of garbage… that kind of writing does not make this more consensual and okay.

Like if you threw a dude in a pit full of scorpions, and he is being stung by a thousand stingers and the poison is slowly and painfully shutting down all of his bodily functions and it’s all really gruesome…but then someone asks if he wants to be saved and the dude in the pit goes from screaming in agony to saying, “Actually I like it down here.”

Does that mean being pushed into that pit, and what he went through in that pit is okay? NO

What does him suddenly wanting to marry all of those 1000 scorpions mean?

IT MEANS YOU’RE A FUCKING HACK WRITER WILLFULLY CONTRIBUTING TO RAPE CULTURE FOR A QUICK BUCK YOU HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Like you can have your stories where a rapist is redeemed from his awful actions, but more often than not I see these fucking outrageous hairpin fucking turns in writing.  

I mean, Junta does apologize?  Which is better than some semes but honestly I’d rather him not even bother because he’s not sincere.  He apologizes all the time for the sex acts he puts Takato through but goes on to blackmail him, hurts him, abducts him, and threatens him to his face with more rape. LIKE NOT EXACTLY FEELING AS IF YOU TOTES CARE ABOUT HOW HE FEELS ABOUT ALL THIS, BOYO!

The next chapter while they’re being filmed for the show Takato throws him against the wall and hijacks the dialog to make it sound sexually threatening.  Takato IN HIS MIND ADMITS “DAMN HE’S ACTUALLY USING ENOUGH FORCE TO HURT ME!!!!”  So after this shot, Takato gives Junta some advice and makes no shit, this fucking face…                        

And that…face, (improperly attached to what I presume is a series of straws coated in plaster masquerading as a neck)  gives Junta that GOTTA RAPE NOW BONER!

So that’s what happens, he just violently drags off a kicking and screaming Takato in the middle of shooting and no one bats a fucking eye. SEEMS LEGIT!  What’s baffling to me is they don’t even draw a sex scene for this.

MY BRO, WHAT IS EVEN THE FUCKING POINT THAN OF ALL THESE RAPE SCENERIOS IF THERE AREN’T HIDEOUS MELTING FACES AND WACKY INFLATABLE TUBE MAN BODIES TO GO WITH IT!?

But afterwards Junta says the classic creepy shit, “Give up already and become mine. I have no intention of giving you to someone else.” WE KNOW THE DRILL!

Takato looks up at Junta and goes, “Yeah guess I love this dude.”

AND LIKE FOR WHAT? FOR HUH? WHAT’S GOING ON HERE!?!!??!?!?!?!?

But also, are you fucking joking here? Like I’m not into the 10 volumes of “Am I gay or not?” bullshit we get in yaoi. But, depending on the pace and characterization, there’s nothing wrong with dragging out the love being 100% mutual. Here’s it’s in chapter fucking 2.  Even Junjou went at a slower pace than that.  When I read that I couldn’t help feeling like, “WELL WHAT’S THE CONFLICT IN THE NEXT 3 AND A HALF VOLUMES GOING TO BE?”

Which, admittedly is unfair, there can be lots of relationship conflict outside of mutually expressed love…However for a rapist/tsundere dynamic? That’s usually at least 75% of the conflict.  But oh, maybe this means we’re going to get different kinds of drama!  So even while it’s not good, we’re going to get something different!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

It’s utter NOT-CONFLICT is what we end up with.  3 different chapters are, “I haven’t seen much of him, that must mean he’s bored of me. Wah! Oh it turns out he was just busy. Oh that’s good.”  PAGING FUCKING JUNJOU WITH THAT SUPER FUN, ENGAGING, AND INTERESTING CONFLICT HARDY FUCKING HAR!

Then we take a hard right into sorta worst rapist territory.  What do you mean by SORTA worst rapist Faps?

Well……

There’s a new actor Takato is working with and this new actor, and the new actor’s coding as a bad guy is about as subtle as a punch to the mouth. So new actor gets Takato drunk enough for him to pass out, gives him a hickey and ????????????

2 things happen in these situations in yaoi typically

1.)    SOMEHOW the seme MAGICS his way there beats up the worst rapist

2.)    This happens after the uke and seme have a fight. So uke realizes how mean he was for not being 100% down with all the seme’s shitty behavior cause there is a worst rapist out there. He runs crying to the seme apologizing and conflict solved.

We sorta get the 2nd here…but not in a straight-forward way.  For one there is no fight beforehand to set up any kind of relationship development.  What happens is that Takato wakes up mortified at the possibility he was raped while he was asleep.  He staggers around both in denial and utter shame.  Seme shows up and like only adds to this panic by yanking him around, forcefully washing his body, and screaming that his SLUTTY, SLUTTY FACE MANIPULATES MEN into raping him.  The seme tells him that they don’t have to have sex.  Which good, but I mean the scene is not framed as if Takato is doing this out of kindness but almost as a dare. The implication being if Takato doesn’t consent that he is the OTHER MAN’S BOY NOW and they should just break up. So there is implicit pressure there, but he does seem to initial consent.  Yet during the sex Takato internally cries about how much he hates it because his boyfriend is hate fucking him but he can’t say NO because than his boyfriend will hate him more.

LIKE FUCKING BIG YIKES MY FRIEND! IT’S SUPER UNCOMFORTABLE!

Which like, I could see a post-assault sex scene full of the emotional intensity of the anger, guilt, shame, fear all intermingling within both of them working well. (Not that post assault consensual sex is much of a thing.)  That they’re trying not to think of what Takato went through but it’s eating at both of them.  THAT COULD BE A REALLY INTENSE, WELL DONE SCENE!  However this is framed like seme ~taking back what’s his~ in a really cold, pissed-off way that’s AT BEST really insensitive to what the uke just went through and his current emotional state.  While Takato ~letting him~ cause he’s afraid his bf hates him for getting raped by someone not him.  Junta also disappears without a word, making Takato fear that YEP HIS BF DON’T WANT HIM CAUSE HE’S DAMAGED GOODS NOW!

But who has to apologize? THE UKE!

Also it turns out Takato was not raped cause worst rapist couldn’t get it up after Takato said his bf’s name in his sleep.  This is framed as better not cause of what the uke went through, but he didn’t really CHEAT so Junta can forgive him.

LIKE REALLY MY DUDE? YOU STARTED THIS OFF WRITTEN TAKATO MORE REALISTICALLY DEALING WITH THE DENIAL, DISGUST, AND SHAME OF ASSUALT AND INSTEAD JUST DEGRADED INTO THE SAME VICTIM-BLAMING HORSESHIT! GET FUCKED!

So the resolution is that the relationship is fixed and Junta threatens and blackmails the rapist. Which, I’m glad he didn’t get off scot-free but those interactions felt less like protecting the safety of Takato and more like, HE’S MY PROPERTY NO TOUCHY!

So from here we take a big turn.

Most of the 3rd volume is a big back-track to the beginning of their relationship before it was romantic or sexual.  And boy howdy it feels like a retcon for the fuck awful pace of the 1st volume.

Basically it’s about how Junta became obsessed with Takato while working on a movie cause idk he’s pretty and he accidently heard Takato say something shitty about him once. While I wouldn’t call this good the fact that they actually let this blooming of affection take place makes it the best chapters so far.

Like at the end Junta resolves himself to let his feelings be known and to start a romantic relationship with Takato.  Without the context, that felt like almost sweet? That he’s accepted his gay feelings and wants to share his life with Takato.  However if you REMEMBER THE CONEXT it means that Junta planned to drug, blackmail, and rape Takato WHICH YANNO REALLY TAKES A SHIT ON YOUR CUTE LITTLE FEATHERS BLOWING IN A BREEZE TO GO WITH HIS CUTSY MONOLOG YOU SHIT-SUCKER!

But lordy the next chapter comes along which is a retelling of this prequel from Takato perspective. The only saving grace here is that it’s not nearly as long as Junta’s.  Basically Takato realizes that Junta is OUT for him, and has a fucking frightened panic attack in his car afterwards. He’s literally shaking and monologing about how scary the situation and Junta are.  And this isn’t me even inferring words in Takato���s head, he repeats scary over and over.  Takato even decides to over book himself so he’ll have fewer chances to interact with Junta. So he does the classic ~pass-out from overwork~ thing so Junta can save him and from here we immediately transition to,

Oh now it’s modern day and they’re banging…..okay????? VOLUME ENDS

The next plot point comes down to this:

Paparazzi are OUT TO GET THEM! There is a photo leaked that isn’t really suggestive at all and Takato pretty much loses his job for it. However Takato finds out there is a much more damning picture of him and Junta, so he decides to break up with Junta, and like…just literally do whatever the paparazzi wants in order to protect Junta. But like, what’s the point of hiding it from Junta? And if this dude is going to blackmail you, what are you going to do to make sure their demands end or don’t get to the point that they’re unfeasible to continue giving in to them?

HAHA OH WELL!

Takato doesn’t even get to see the paparazzi again, his producer finds out and sexually assaults him to PROVE A POINT!

AND BOY HOWDY I’M WAY INTO THAT TROPE! LOOKING AT YOU OURAN HOST CLUB!

Cause HAHA nobody could literally want anything out of a wealthy, well-connected actor other than gay rape amirite?

Meanwhile Junta is cultivating a rumor that he’s having an affair with an actress.  Cause of fucking course Junta figured that the only reason his boyfriend (whom is often upset at how shitty he gets treated by him) is an elaborate ploy to protect him from the paparazzi.  But you know OF COURSE we see the actress and Junta flirting a bunch to stir the pot in a private setting but like…they only need to be seen on an outside date once.  This means that he’s fucking lying if he says that he only did it to SAVE BOTH OF THEM FROM THE PAPARAZZI.  He was getting a kick out of it, which I think you could argue that he was being unfaithful or in the very least being a fucking dick about it.

But, Junta goes on TV and says that he’s not having an affair with the actress or with Takato but he is moving in with Takato.

Yeah nothing dispels rumors of an intimate relationship like the announcement that they’re MOVING IN TOGETHER!  Now, as I understand it, the housing market is very different in Japan from the west and therefore it’s less of a huge TELL of an intimate relationship if two people move in together.  But even if that’s the case, saying you’re moving in with someone you’re accused of having an affair with…is not helping my friend.

However it is phrased this way, and immediately the entirety of the media believes this whole-heartedly, and the paparazzi guy (despite having a much more damning picture he hasn’t released) is like, “Wowzers he’s so smart, he has BEAT ME! I’m giving up being paparazzi.  That man CHANGED MY LIFE FOR THE BETTER! HOW COULD I EVER THANK HIM!?”  Even the fucking company that hired this paparazzi guy is like, “WELL I’M TAKING MY BUSINESS IN A NEW BETTER DIRECTION! THAT JUNTA GUY SURE, SHOWED ME!!!!”

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING!? You might as well have every criminal in Japan throw their hands up going, “WELL GOLLY!  DID YOU SEE HOW GREAT THE ACTUAL RAPIST AND ABUSER JUNTA IS? BEST NEVER DO A BAD THING EVER AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

GO EAT EVERY DICK!!!!

That’s pretty much the end up to this point.  I mean, there are some odds and ends chapters here and there but they’re pretty much excuses for sex chapters. And like, even though those are pretty rapey, I kinda respect them more than when you attempts to interject some semblance of relationship drama, cause holy hell that paparazzi shit ugh.

Though if you’ll allow a side rant from me about how the story treats sexual assault. According to the author it comes in a lot of flavors and most of them are awful.

For one: if it’s a hunky guy who loves you: Rape is great.

For two: if it’s a hunky guy but you already have a rapist errr boyfriend: You’re cheating.

For three: if you’re being obnoxiously sexually harassed by your superior….BUT YOUR PRODUCER IS AN OLDER EFFEMINATE GAY MAN: It’s hilarious and harmless and helps cement your Marty-stuness.

For four: if a woman is being groomed by a superior: It’s a bad thing that should be stopped.

3 and 4 happen within the same chapter but the author is so oblivious at the hypocrisy of the framing it’s absurd.

Story

Okay so the story is a mess. The relationship progression goes way too fast for it to make sense, and negates a lot of the drama you could have had.  It’s possible that the editors wanted sex ASAP for some kinda quota, and that’s not necessarily bad. But it really burns my biscuits when people think, “Oh that means lead with rape and that they’ll be in mutual love by chapter 2.”  

Sure most tsundere stories have a bit more lead up until the uke can confess he likes the seme back but this is not the right way to break that mold. The hairpin turn makes no sense and neuters a lot of potential conflict.

It puts the comic in a pacing hole to start and the rest of the story does little to mitigate this. I think there was an attempt to rectify this by going back to the story BEFORE they were a couple.  However that was horrible botched as well.  It brings the pacing to a screeching halt with a volume of Junta being like “OH NO HE’S HOTTTTTTTTTTT” despite the time devoted they do very little to give them an actual relationship or investment in his personality. It’s all a one-sided pining boner for hideous wiggle mouth.

The content of the writing is just embarrassing too.  I can be a more forgiving in the sex-excuse side chapters.  But like there’s a side chapter when Junta is magiked into a child and for like what? So we can coo, that the author drawing a small snowman with a poorly defined face and pretending it’s a child is super adorable?

So we can excuse the shitty way Junta behaves?  Is anybody weirded out that 3 year old Junta is more thoughtful and respectful than his adult-self?  YOU CAN’T EVEN WRITE HOW CHILDREN BEHAVE YOU STUPID SIMP! UGH!!!!

But also the arc on the paparazzi just ended in a total train-wreck of awful writing no question.

Sexual politics:

They’re fucking atrocious here.

1.)    The first scene is framed as a brutal rape but 30 seconds later its fine and they’re in love.

2.)    The handling of the ~worst rapist~ trope with big buckets of victim blaming and as if Takato was ~cheating~ is horrendous.

3.)    The worst rapist is also a sex worker.  So we’re framing sex workers as bad people and sex work as a bad thing. BUT GOLLY KEEP DRAWING GRAPHIC SEX SCENCES!

4.)    The sexually predator producer of Junta being framed as harmless cause he’s effeminate is god fucking awful.  It’s also this bizarre homophobic double standard that this man (and by extension his gay brother) are a joke because they behave stereotypically gay and aren’t ashamed of being effeminate.  MEN ARE ONLY HOT IF THEY ACT LIKE PREDATORS IN A MANLY WAY, OR ARE ASHAMED OF ANY SEXUAL SUBMISSIVE OR EFFEMINATE TRAITS THEY HAVE! I LOVE WATCHING MAN ON MAN SEX BUT SO HELP ME GOD IF THEY’RE ~GAY ABOUT IT!~

5.)    They ~sorta~ take sexual harassment seriously when a female actor is being groomed. Like they joke about it but also DO SOMETHING TO STOP IT really fucking muddles what we’re supposed to think about sexual abuse at all here.

6.)    Takato’s producer sexually assaults him to ~prove a point~ that Takato is putting himself in situations where rape COULD happen.  The fuck is this horseshit! “These men could do the very bad thing of raping you. Let me demonstrate what that bad thing looks like cause I’m sure you’re UNAWARE!” THE FUCK!?  Also this sexual assault is framed more seriously than Junta’s producer because this producer is coded as MORE ATTRACTIVE and less openly QUEER! ONCE AGAIN I EXCLAIM! THE FUCK!?

7.)    Takato OPENLY describes Junta as scary and calls his acts stalking, kidnapping, bullying, blackmail, threats, and rape.  He also tries to actively avoid his boyfriend at times, yet are we not to take ANY of this seriously?  Are we not to take this seriously cause this behavior is acceptable when the one dolling it out is attractive and charming?  Are we not to take it seriously because we can’t except Takato to be honest about how he feels about any of this?  I don’t believe in given a blanket free-pass when Takato doesn’t consistently express desire in Junta’s abusive tendencies.  Like maybe you can argue some of the sex is consensual but can you argue that Takato is into the blackmail, when he never mentions he likes it? Can you argue he’s into the non-stop attention when he SOMETIMES BEGRUDINGLY admits he enjoys it?  If so does just that get a blanket pass?

JUST UGH! YOU’VE GUYS HAVE PROBABLY HEARD THIS RANT FROM ME BEFORE I FUCKING HATE TSUNDERE SEXUAL POLITICS!

 Characters

Takato

Okay so Takato. What’s this dude’s deal?  

Okay let’s start with some boring basics:  He’s a hard-working actor who strives to be professional.  He’s a perfectionist, who seems to easily and joyfully take on the role of mentor/protector. He does seem to take himself too seriously at times. He appears to subtly prod at people who have wronged him or others rather than confront them directly. He’s also shown to be a tsundere with a submissive streak.

There’s nothing bad on its face about this characterization.  However Takato is described as an intelligent professional actor, with years of experience.  Yet his handling of the paparazzi thing is pretty much he goes to shit and opens him up to more rape cause lol hot.  I could maybe understand this characterization if the paparazzi thing really hit Takato on a personal level and he made some irrational choices due to feeling as if he was being attacked or that he was going to permanently lose his job.

However he is shown as calm, as he’s making these choices and openly states that he will gladly give up a career he worked so hard for if it would save Junta’s career. Did he not, even for a second consider he could save both of them?  This is not consistent with his characterization and it exists to put Junta on a pedestal he does not deserve.

SPEAKING OF…

Junta

So…this fucking guy. Junta is a young up and coming actor with early success.  He’s shown to be an impulsive, passionate person who relies heavily on an ~angelic charm.~  He has no shame in using calculated, underhanded methods in order to achieve his goals.  He is shown as impatient, has a temper, and is openly disrespectful to his partner.

Yet the world fawns over him with praise for how attractive, charming, and ~resourceful~ he is.  He is described as having a few low wage jobs out of high school and therefore he’s an expert in EVERYTHING FOREVER!

I believe they were trying to humorously contrast Junta having a sweet, innocent angelic charm, with the reality of him being an aggressive a-hole.  However they do not frame the aggressive a-hole side of him as bad but rather as HOT.  Like I GET THAT on some level but since he’s a manipulative, abusive, rapist, it just reminds me of all the REAL LIFE INDIVIDUALS who put on a good face for the public but to their partner they’re monsters.

Art

I legit hate this fucking art. Like straight up and down, I have a hard time even reading it on a visual level.  Like the anatomy is OKAY and the backgrounds are OKAY but a lot of it is less than okay. The worst culprits are the character designs, the necks, and the expressions.  

I am so done with mediocre artists churning out, not only same-faced characters compared to their own art, but characters that are basically same-faced compared to the main-stream.  The only thing unique here is that Junta has dark hair underneath his lighter brown hair. OH GOLLY!  It’s so fucking bland and Junta’s got best seme in the Chil Chil awards and I’m so salty about that I could give the dead sea a run for its money. UGH!

The necks are super long, thin, twisty, sharp angels, and with her sad attempts at tendons it looks as if they’re constantly tense.  And in worst case scenarios they don’t look as if they’re attached to even half of the chin. Yeesh!

The expressions…fucking lord.  In the best of times, the facial spacing is just bad, with eyes and mouths off center, and ears too low.  The author has no concept of how lips/faces work so all the kisses are REAL BAD. It’s either just like…triangles smashed at each other, no lips involved, or they’re like 1 foot apart layering their tongues on each other like they’re building a fucking sandwich.

The worst of times is Takato’s sex faces.  THEY MAKE ME WANT TO VOMIT-SCREAM!

Basically he squints and his eyes get so watery it looks as if they replaced his eyeballs with just well…water.  You can’t make out pupils, irises, NOTHING!  But the mouths are the pinnacle of puke-inducing.  They’re these enormous squigglies with no rhyme or reason, just oozing saliva like a breach in a dam. At best they’re cartoonish in an unerotic way. THESE SQUIGGLES! I CAN’T STAND THEM!  YUCK!

TL;DR

Poorly drawn and written Rapist/Tsundere garbage.  While it doesn’t hit EVERY little overplayed trope, it’s still pretty cliché.  Just, it’s similar and up there with Junjou in the shitty department if you ask me.

[rarestereocats]

rundown of last week’s game!

   Upon leaving the dueregar city,  we're approached by two drow.  Something about them isn't sitting right with us and when they insist we follow them to a city we had no intentions on going to yet,  Xaren drops his mute act to question them.  In turn,  they drop their forms and standing before us are two brains on legs that are now chattering to each other about how obviously great and sexy our hot bods are and how they would absolutely love to have them.  Of course,  we're not thrilled with the prospect of sensual body snatching and proceed to beat their squishy asses.  It was a no brainer,  really. (loud booing)

   After kicking their brains with no issue,  Elathera understandably wants to dispose of these corpes cuz uh,  brains on legs that like to snatch bodies are bad and who the fuck wants to run into the issue of them possibly coming back?  She makes an acid pit via magic and destroys one,  but before she can get the other,  Virhea's stuffing it in her bag.  This party has a thing for stuffing corpses in bags of holding apparently,  but we don't question this too long because this is just who we are as people.

   We press forward,  parkouring and flying over magma pits and shit until we reach our destination.  The drow city of Agony.  Lovely name,  right?  It's a quaint,  quiet city deep within the middle Underdark,  surrounded by a mote of lava.  The only way in is a draw bridge and boy howdy,  the people here are delightful.  Just kidding,  guys.  It's a terrible place.  We go back and forth with the tower guard for awhile,  but as Xaren says his name,  they're more than happy to bring his ass in so that their matron mother may deliver his ass to Velevana herself.

   We talk with the matron mother,  Antoinette,  and Industria lies about how she feels the call of her goddess as well.  Antoinette asks her to display her powers on an unfortunate drow,  so Industria smiles and agrees before proceeding to cast hellfire on Antoinette.  She's pissed,  understandably,  but surprisingly doesn't kill us.  Yet.  As Industria goes to leave,  the matron mother takes her magic away and orders her goons to kill all of us except Xaren.  He's a prisoner and she needs him alive.

   As she takes her magic though,  I'm less than happy about that and decide to shadow stealth onto her throne to drop down and assassinate her,  but unfortunately,  that didn't go as planned.  I hit her,  but as I roll away,  some of her goons surround me and knock me to the ground.  Tenin shows up to help out,  so I crawl away,  but these rowdy boys are determined to stop me and follow after,  tripping my ass again.  I guess you could say I've really fallen for these guys. (even louder booing)

   Xaren is not thrilled watching his best friend get pushed around,  so he breaks free from one guard and turns around to punch the other guy straight in the face.  Unfortunately,  these guards either really fucking love their job or don't want the matron mother to beat their asses,  so he's stuck fighting them off.  Elathera displays a moment of snark (I'm proud of her) and takes away Antoinette's magic while loudly proclaiming;  "No, you can't cast magic!".  She's feeling pretty good in this moment until Antoinette counterspells and does the same to her,  proclamation and all wrapped up with a nice,  villainous cackle.

   So Tenin moves up to the matron mother and she goes to take away his life force.  He's wounded,  but zaps some energy from Elathera and stands tall again.  Antoinette is terrified,  panics,  and tries again;  but it's no use.  Now frustrated with the current situation,  I bust out some good ol' summoning salts,  throwing down the orange one.  Out pops a giant,  beautiful angel by the name of Rafael.  He smiles at me and asks if I wish to be as glamorous as him and sensing no ill will,  I'm like...hell yeah,  bro.  Hook me up.  I'm transformed into an angel version of myself and Antoinette has had enough.  How many angels does one party need!?  She wants our asses dead.

   Rafael asks if I'm trust him and in this moment,  yes,  I do.  We need his help.  Before anyone can do anything,  he reverses gravity.  Some of us manage to keep our grip on the world,  while the rest go crashing 50 ft into the ceiling,  including the matron mother.  With her ass pinned there,  I shadow stealth back up and go full murder kitten on her.  With her now dead,  the rest of the drow lay down their arms.  Rafael then reveals his true form and it turns out he was a horrible,  nasty demon the entire time.  She needed our help killing Antoinette as she fucking hated her.

   For thanks for my aid,  she says she'll grant me one wish.  Immediately,  the entire party breaks out into a chorus of "Kina,  no!" and I'm faced with a tough decision.  I want my cousin back.  I want Asri back.  There's a lot I could wish for,  but I turn the demon down,  so she turns to the rest of the party.  Elathera and Xaren,  despite being a part of the "Kina,  no!" party,  both are contemplating using the wish.  How rude.  But thankfully,  mom says no.  Industria casts banish on the demon and that bitch is gone before anyone has the chance to be a hypocrite.

   After escaping the delightful city of Agony,  we go make a sleep cubby far away.  I have a touching moment with Ilyana after Industria suggests I go draw some pictures with her since I am an Emotional Mess.  We draw some cats and Ilyana gives me her drawing so I always have something to remember her by.  I cry,  she cries because she's not sure what just happened,  Industria comes over and calms the situation down.  We all go to bed and Xaren is pulled into another vision.  He's walking through an empty cavern and as he presses on,  the steady sound of water dripping gets faster.  A voice calls out to him.  "Come find me.".  He's pulled back to reality.

   The morning after,  we have yet another family intervention at my sake and I'm prodded and goaded into telling the entire party about how I can feel Lucky's soul in me and how I've been communicating with it.  We decide to test a theory of mine and scry on corporeal Lucky as I reach out to their soul.  Corporeal Lucky is in the cargo bay of a ship.  Doesn't look like my communication affects the body at all.  We have Elathera establish a line of communication with them and talk for a bit.  Turns out they're aware that their phylactery was broken and they were heading out to go fix it.  While the soul in my body registers as evil to Industria,  she tries to detect evil on the body,  but gets no reading.  Since we need all the help we can get taking down a literal goddess of death,  we eventually tell Lucky to come find us and help us.

   As Industria's scry fades,  our communication with them is lost.  But Lucky is now scrying on their phylactery that they were trying to find,  so hopefully that will lead them to us.

[xseedgames]

Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns Localization Blog #6

Howdy, everybody! This is John with our final localization blog for Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns. The game comes out next Tuesday (2/28). Don’t miss out on your chance to preorder the game from select retailers to get the adorable capybara pocket plushie bonus, which I have had a lot of fun posing for our little “Capy and Bunny Adventures” comics over the past month. (Okay, sometimes it was a little embarrassing getting those photos.)

We just released a new trailer showing off the four Super Mario Bros. costumes that you can unlock in the game. We’ll also be streaming the game on our Twitch channel from 2:30 PM PST today. Stop by and ask us some questions.

Before I bury the lede any further, I’d like to update you all on the DLC for Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns. For more information on the patches released for free over the course of six months after launch in Japan, as well as our dilemma about whether or not to localize this content, see my previous blog.

We were really overwhelmed by the feedback we received from it. The patience and support of those who responded was encouraging to say the least, and we were grateful to hear all of your opinions, however you felt about the situation. One issue that came up on our forums that I’d like to address quickly is about the bug fixes that were included in the post-launch patches in Japan. Those fixes are all already included in the core game that we are releasing on February 28.

Now then, on to the big news: I’m happy to report that we have decided to localize and release the DLC in North America. I don’t have information on a release timeline or costs for you yet, but we’re eager to dive into translating and editing the text for this massive update. Stay tuned for updates in the months after the initial release.

Thanks again for all your feedback. It made our decision much easier. While the DLC is a ways off, until then we hope you enjoy Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns. Even without the post-launch DLC, it is still the biggest game in the storied history of the farm/life-sim series.

As this is our final planned pre-release localization blog, I wanted to give some of the other members of the XSEED staff who worked on Story of Seasons: Trio of Towns a chance to give their comments on the game. As I mentioned in our very first blog, this game had a massive amount of text that we spent months and months focusing on.

Here are our questionnaire respondents:

Danielle: QA tester and editor

Nathan: QA tester

John: Project lead

1. Who were your favorite character(s) to work on and why? Have any lines in particular made an impression on you?

John: It’s hard to choose, but I will say that I love the dynamics between all the Lulukoko characters. Some of my favorite text in the game are the conversations that will take place between 3-4 characters during certain festivals. The normal groups (Zahau-Caolila, Lotus-Mithra, Iluka-Siluka-Ludus) are great, but funny conversations happen when you mix those characters together. There’s a really great exchange between Lotus and Tototara.

 2. What were your favorite changes and/or additions made to the game?

Danielle: Streamlined farming. Unlike in the previous game, harvested animal by-products and crops go straight into your inventory.Another feature I really like is the addition of actual dog/cat breeds. The previous game had about 4 different "breeds," and were mostly reskins. SoS: ToT has about 16 unique different breeds of dogs, and I have no idea how cat breeds work, but trust me when I say there's a lot more variety there. And last but not least, there's the new--and adorable--capybara!

 3. Which of the three towns do you like the most, and why?

Danielle: Lulukoko hands down for me. I absolutely love locations with tropical and/or oceanside settings. The music for Lulukoko is one of my favorites in the game as well.

Nathan: Lulukoko. Generally speaking it had my favorite bunch of characters, shop hours that matched my playstyle, and the most expensive stuff on the ground for scavenging.

John: Tsuyukusa has my favorite music and some really beautiful scenery. The homes and shops are jam-packed with interesting decorations and knick-knacks from Japanese culture. All of those cultural references were difficult to localize, but I think they make the town so interesting for players.

Many of the decorations in Tsuyukusa are explained by the characters in dialogue.

4. Favorite bachelor/bachelorette? (Minor spoiler about a secret marriage candidate)

Danielle: Ludus. (Ford is pretty great too, though.)

Nathan: For the bachelors, I like Ludus, as he's a good dude that works hard and helps directly. As for the bachelorettes, it's a toss up between Siluka and Inari, though I may be biased as I spent a good deal of time with Siluka. Meanwhile, Inari is a god, so...

John: It’s a little weird seeing Inari referred to as a “bachelorette,” as we tried to keep the Tsuyukusa guardian’s text as gender-neutral as possible. (Though, ultimately, Inari will call him or herself your “husband” or “wife” in some scenes depending on your character’s gender. This is accurate to the Japanese text.)

Anyway, here in the office, Ludus is sort of everyone’s favorite because he’s so attractive and kind-hearted, but for me Ford is the funniest and sweetest bachelor. His response if you dump him just about broke my heart.

Iluka is a treasure. Komari was my choice when I originally played through the game in Japanese, and she’s definitely more my “type.” But Iluka’s sass just turned out so well in English.

To be fair to Iluka, most characters ask you to come back later if you talk to them while they’re eating.

5. Do you have a favorite non-farming SoS activity?

Danielle: Decorating my farmland (or house) is always fun. I also really enjoy creating all the different outfits.

Nathan: Mining for sure, GIVE ME ALL OF THE MONEY.

John: I love fishing in these games. There are so many different fish in Trio of Towns too; it seems like it could almost be its own game. Also, you no longer have to mash the A Button to reel your line in, which is gentler on my hands and my 3DS.

Fish alongside Lulukoko’s master angler, Zahau.

6. Which aspect of the game do you tend to focus on? The social or the farming?

Danielle: I'd say I probably focus about 60% on the social and 40% on the farming.

Nathan: I tend to do an equal amount of both, as I try to set up my farm to require as little attention as possible (and by that I mean planting trees). I do enjoy taking care of the animals though, especially my prize-winning cow: Horse.

John: I’m usually more interested in the social side. I’m always impressed by players who really micromanage their farms. (Like Nathan, who quickly became a fruit tree tycoon during his QA playthrough.)

 7. Which festival would you most like to participate in IRL?

Danielle: The Beverage Bash. I like cooking (making drinks counts as cooking, right?), and I love tea even more, so getting together with a bunch of people to try and create a new drink concoction sounds like a ton of fun. I just hope people in real life have more common sense than to bring mayonnaise as an ingredient.

Nathan: Westown's Goddess Festival, because, let's be real here for a second, there's a giant pizza. Giant. Pizza.

John: The “stargazing” events in Westown and Lulukoko are nice. In Westown, you go up in a hot air balloon to look at the stars. In Lulukoko, you go out in a boat to admire bioluminescent “sea sparkles” in the ocean. (Tsuyukusa has a similar event based on the Japanese festival Tanabata.) The prospect of going up in a hot air balloon (Westown) without a trained pilot is less appealing the more I think about it, however.

The “Beverage Bash” event.

8. If you were a character in Trio of Towns, what would be your number one most loved and hated item?

Danielle:

Loved: Pumpkin Pie

Hated: Pickles

Nathan:

Loved: Black Coffee Hated: Mushrooms, of any type

John: There are over 1,100 items in this game, so it was hard to decide.

Loved: Curry (all types)

Hated: Olive (Who even likes these?)

You would also lose friendship points with me if you shoved a cat in my face (allergies).

 9. What features or changes would you like to see implemented in future games?

Danielle: The biggest feature I'd like to see the return of is the multi-floored mining system (as seen in some of the Wii-era games), as opposed to just the mining points.

Nathan: I'd love to see something along the lines of expeditions or fishing trips for rare fauna as pets, plants, or fish.

John: I would like the developers to bring back larger wilderness areas and even caves/mines to explore. That was the thing I missed most in Trio of Towns.

And, of course, it would be nice to finally have same-sex dating options.

Don’t swing too far back, now.

That’s all from us. We really hope you enjoy the game. Look for another entry starting with “Howdy, everybody” on this blog in a few months’ time.

[alucywarner]

~♥ PRIVACY PLEASE ♥~

[Up they go, and Lucy’s really annoyed right now, (though trying hard to hide it, yikes.) because, hey man, she really likes Stove, and if her ~boyfriend~ was gonna say passively-bad things about him, of coURSE she was gonna be pissed off about it. What made him better than Stove? Really? Jordan Harper was g r o s s.

But, yes, all of this she is hiding with a smile as the start to reach Stove’s front door. And guess what? Sage is standing outside, and once she sees the pair, she meets them halfway.]

Okay, this isn’t my fault.

-- What’s not your fault?

He that we do not name is here.

Oh. [This does not faze Lucy.]

[Jordan makes a noise that sounds like ‘eyugh’.] Honestly?

He’s been here since last night. I didn’t even know until I got here. I came out here to give you at least a bit of a warning. I thought-- if I told you through text you wouldn’t come, and well, I could use the extra distraction.

Ah, selfish motives, I see~. [Lucy really doesn’t care, because, hey, cool bruh. More green eyes. Sweet.]

Allow me a little bit of selfish motive, alright? I have to share my boyfriend with the guy.

You knew what you were getting into, Sage.

Hey, despite that, we’re both sorry you have to go through that torture. Swear it.

[Was the douche speaking for her? Because Lucy was pretty sure she just heard that. Conceal, don’t feel, Lucy. Conceal, don’t feel.]

Oh, thanks. [Even Sage rolls her eyes at that. Cool.] C’mon. [She pulls open the Stove door, in they all go, and voila, a Stove and Maddox are chillin’ on the couch. Coolio.]

Ah, there’s couple of the year.

[Stove gives him this tired, side-eyed glare, because don’t start, kiddo. I’m not in the mood to hear your shit, buddy pal.]

Oh, quiet, you.

A guy can’t even compliment anyone nowadays, can he? [:C]

Dunno. Can you? [Eyebrow raise.]

I mean, I could, if your boyfriend weren’t here. But out of respect for him, I’ll keep it to myself~.

Madd--

Respect, huh? Bravo, I don’t even think you could spell respect.

Nah, dude. Aretha Franklin’s been teaching people that for like 100 years. Where have you been? Head up your ass?

[A simultaneous, double face palm from both Lucy and Sage, because it’s been like two minutes, and they’re already going in on it. Cool. Gr8.]

Alright, alright. Now that you’ve both gotten that off your chests, can we all cool the fuck down, please? 

I’m so chill, bro.

[Stove gives him a ‘sure, jan’ look.] Lucy, Jordan, Sage, you don’t have to stand by the door. All are welcome~. [An annoyed sarcasm, because he knew when Maddox came over last night, that this mess was gonna happen today. He’s just happy to be here, pals.]

[The three standing by the door make their way towards the center of the room otherwise known as the living room, all the while, Jordan is looking around with a face like ‘>:S’, because the third-classness of it all scares this Caledon Hockley-wannabe. Sage shoves herself in between Maddox and Stove out of pure spite alone. Stove, thinking still that she’s the cutest patoot, just wraps an arm around her shoulder with a grin. Lucy has to ‘aw’ internally, because how cute. Bye. Maddox finds this less cute, evidenced by the not-grin on his face.

But now arises the question: What do these five have a conversation about? The five of them as a whole have nothing in common. Maybe a few of them at a time could find something to talk about, but what on earth would they converse about that everyone could join in on? Yikey. 

Lucy wasn’t sure if it was the awkwardness of it all that made it seem like it had been a long time since they entered the room fully, or if it actually had been as long as it seemed, but boy howdy, did it feel like a pressing silence was resting upon all of them. Stove, ever the mediator, finally breaks this silence after probably only about three minutes (but it felt like so much more. heck.)]

Soooo... Who’s looking forward to finals, huh?

[Thanks, Stove. You’re ever-helpful.]

[themagdalenwriting]

I’m not sure how I missed this one during my initial trawl for Transformers genfic at AO3, but boy howdy, I’m glad I found it now. The plot is exactly what it says on the tin: the Mythbusters visit the (G1) Ark to film an episode with the reluctant permission of Optimus Prime, the enthusiastic cooperation of Ratchet and Wheeljack, and the, um, assistance of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker:

"Now that we're all assembled," the Prime announced, and at the sound of his voice even Sunstreaker and Tracks shut up; the Mythbusters crew, taking their cue from their hosts, quit poking at things and at least made a show of paying attention.  "As some of you may be aware, our guests are here to film an educational program.  I've already promised our full cooperation - within the bounds of normal security concerns," he added before Red Alert could do more than open his mouth.  The Prime offered an apologetic glance before continuing.  "Barring that, we will offer any assistance necessary for our guests' work.  Any questions?"

"Can I help?" The voice belonged to Bluestreak, bouncing to be seen over the shoulders of Hoist and Sunstreaker.  "I've seen your show, I'm a huge fan, if there's any myths involving ordinance - mph."  With his customary directness, Sunstreaker had turned and clapped a hand over Bluestreak's mouth.

Optimus had to chuckle a little at that.  "I'm sure we'll all get our chance to assist," he offered as Adam grinned at their flailing fan.  "Speaking of which," the Prime continued, turning to the senior Mythbusters, "why don't you tell us about the myths you'll be testing?"

"I thought you'd never ask."  Jamie stepped forward to address not only the Prime but all the Autobots, and the cameras as well.  "We actually have three myths, submitted by our faithful audience, that we'd like to test, and we're ready to start the first one right away."

"Oh no," someone muttered.

Jamie ignored that like a professional.  "Unsurprisingly, we get a lot of questions about how the abilities of Autobots stack up to humans - overall intelligence, reaction time, that sort of thing.  So our first two myths will pit your best against ours.  Specifically, there's a story making the rounds on our website about a Japanese robotics engineer who was able to build a robot that actually rivaled Autobot capabilities."

"Therefore," Adam interrupted, "the Mythbusters challenges your best scientists to an epic build-off!"

The room fell relatively silent; Jamie shot his partner a look.  Optimus was groping for a way to talk the humans out of it when Ratchet and Wheeljack chorused "Accepted!"

"And prepare to get your afts handed to you," Ratchet added, grinning like a maniac.  Wheeljack, his sidelights bright with giddy glee, could only nod in agreement.

Beside Optimus, Ironhide groaned.  "Prime, permission to transfer to - I dunno, Mars or somewhere.  Mars is the one just behind the asteroid belt, right?"

"Jupiter," his Prime informed him, "and request denied.  If I have to suffer through this, so do you."

Ironhide subsided with a sulky grumble, and the camera operator that caught the exchange swung back around to Jamie.  "We'll discuss the terms later," the mustached man was saying.  "In the meantime, our build team has their own challenge to issue.  Grant?"

Beaming, Grant took the cameras' center stage.  "This myth actually comes from an email sent to us by a member of Portland's Highway Patrol."  He whipped a sheet of paper from his pocket and unfolded it with a flourish.  "Dear Mythbusters," he read, "greetings from the Highway Patrol Division of the Portland City Police, we all love your show, yadda yadda... It may surprise you to learn that we have a bit of a robot problem - no, not Decepticons, but Autobots who insist on breaking the speed limit."  There was a general outcry among the Autobots - mingled aghast denial and ruffian pride - before Optimus waved them to silence again.  "We're well aware that the Autobots can wring more speed out of their fancy alien forms than we can out of our inferior Earth vehicles," Grant continued, the beginnings of a manic grin showing on his face, "but!  When it comes to driving skill, we of the Highway Patrol admit no equal.  Therefore, we request that you bust the myth that Autobots are better drivers than humans.  If anyone can do it, you can."  Grin in full force, Grant snapped the paper closed again.  "So that's our challenge - given equivalent technology, who's the better driver?"

Sunstreaker snorted, still keeping a wriggling Bluestreak in his headlock.  "You've got to be kidding.  You pipsqueaks really think you can beat us?"

Grant arched an eyebrow.  "Is that a volunteer we detect?"

"What?  No!"

"Actually," Ratchet broke in, a wicked grin stretching across his face, "you'd be perfect, Sunstreaker.  I mean," he added as Sunstreaker stared at him in horror, "the myth says 'equivalent technology,' right? And you don't get much more equivalent than twins!"

Sideswipe lit up.  "Hey - yeah!  Great idea, Doc!  C'mon, bro, you know you want to."

"I - most - certainly do not!" Sunstreaker spluttered, losing his grip on Bluestreak, who quickly scampered out of the blast radius.  A Sunstreaker with his delicate sensibilities offended was not a safe Sunstreaker to be around.

Especially when his brother was involved.  "Aww, what's the matter, Sunny?" Sideswipe teased, leaning on his twin's shoulder.  "Think you can't beat me even when there's a human at my wheel?"

That did it.  "You slimy little scrag!" Sunstreaker shot upright, shoving his brother away.  "I can beat you with a human at my wheel!"

It ... devolves from there.  If you aren’t chortling by the end of this story, you have no funny bone.  Wheeljack invents the Space Coffeemaker from Hell, Ravage’s stealth capabilities are tested, Adam rejects Megatron’s reality and substitutes his own, and the myth of Decepticon superiority is thoroughly busted.  Also, snarky Prowl:

Prowl stepped out into the molten-gold late afternoon sunshine and stretched out, servos and lines easing with a relieved groan of metal.   He glanced around the peaceful scrublands that surrounded Wheeljack's bunker, not warily, simply watchful.  Then he dialed his vocalizer volume up a few notches and spoke.

"I do sincerely hope that the Decepticons don't find out about our new weapon, which is being kept in Wheeljack's lab under several layers of security.  The consequences for the Autobots if Megatron were to get his hands on it would be disastrous."

That done, he stepped back inside.  Grant lowered the puzzle lock he'd been working on - the last and most diabolical of all - to stare at him.

"That's your brilliant plan to get Ravage here?" he demanded.

"More or less."

"And what makes you think the 'Cons will fall for that?"

The smallest of smiles graced Prowl's features, just for a moment.  "Past experience."

"Right."  Grant shook his head.  "Must be an alien thing."

I had never watched Mythbusters before I read this piece, but now I want to. Highly recommended.  Do not read while drinking splorkable liquids -- right, @flurrybird?  :-)

[buttchuggthis40wme]

12 Steps from Death

David stepped into the small empty conference room and flicked a switch. The fluorescent bulbs sputtered to life one by one with a gentle hum, like old men being roused from a nap. The shadows lingered for a moment though, and for the briefest instant David was gripped by a cold, sickening terror. He shook his head and suddenly the darkness had passed, warmth returned to his frightened husk. He collected himself for a moment, assuring himself that it was probably nothing, and that it was time to get back to the task at hand. David stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, a familiar smile taking shape as he began the weekly routine, the fear had now completely faded. He wheeled a plain-looking folding table into the corner of the room, frowning at the coffee stains that speckled its beige cloth. He lined up the towers of paper cups next to the two large black beverage dispensers, marked WATER and COFFEE. David surveyed the modest spread, setting a box of Costco brand cookies right next to the packets of sugar. David poured himself a cup of joe, made it the same way he always had, with two sugar packets and healthy dollop of cream. The clock ticked softly overhead. The silence broke as David brought in the brown metal folding chairs. The chairs clanged harshly under David’s armpits, revealing their age with every rusted creak. Their light brown metallic shine matched the color of his coffee. He brought twenty chairs, but knew all too well that no more than four of them would be filled tonight. He arranged them into a wide circle, all equidistant, all perfectly angled inward. David found pleasure in these little perfections. He briefly marveled at his work before adding the final touch, a laminated teal poster taped just beneath the wall clock. The poster was simple, just a numbered list of rules. At the top of the poster it’s title read, THE 12 STEPS: in bold, impact font. A second poster hung above the concession table, directly across from the 12 steps, as if they occupied two ends of a single spectrum. The second poster showed a young, military aged black man dressed in fatigues, his head tilted away from the viewer, saluting into the distance. In the background, a pair of jets fly through a soft pink sunset. The image is bound by a black border, in the style of a motivational poster. its tagline reads SEMPER FI: Respect the Corps, Respect yourself. David didn’t even see that poster anymore, it had been here since he got assigned to the room, and probably long before that. It and a million other posters like it decorated nearly every room of the Marine Base. By now all of them had combined into a single image in David’s head, and were as inconspicuous as the patterns that formed in the rough, cream-colored stucco walls. David checked the clock, then his watch. He sipped on his saccharine coffee and stretched his legs, the men would be here soon. David checked his watch again, 6:54. The sound of sneakers on linoleum squeaked toward the conference room, and David’s head perked up just in time to catch the first guest as he shuffled through the door. “Evenin’ Marcus” He said casually, standing up to greet him. “Aw Siddown David,” Marcus said, swiping a cookie with one hand and waving David off with the other, grinning as he did. Marcus was a short man, hunched over from years of a sedentary lifestyle. He had a short, well-trimmed beard that shone white against his dark skin. “How’d Lexi do on that Spanish test?” Marcus asked, not even looking up as he poured himself a cup of black coffee. “She says she hasn’t gotten the grade back yet, but she thinks she did pretty good.” David often forgot just how receptive Marcus was. David never liked sharing personal information with clients, but Marcus was always genuinely interested in what was happening in his life. David presumed it was because he didn’t have much else going on. Marcus waddled over next to David and plopped down next to him with a thud, almost spilling his coffee. The reflection of his glasses made his eyes hard to track. “I know I tell ya this all the time David, but you’re real lucky that Lexi takes to school as good as she does.” Marcus took an enormous bite out of his cookie, a few crumbs trickled down onto his green striped button up. He brushed them off then adjusted his seat. “I must’ve driven my poor momma crazy with all the bad grades I brought home, the things that I made that woman put up with.” He closed his mouth to finish chewing his food, chuckling a couple times under his breath, perhaps reliving some old memory. David opened his mouth to ask about Marcus’s week, but before he could utter a single word he was interrupted by cacophonous laughter. A pair of twenty-something-year-old men burst into the conference room, one voice was loud and commanding, the other voice was quieter but his laugh more than made up for it. Both were indifferent to David and Marcus’s conversation. “You think I’m fuckin’ with ya? I swear to god bro I walked up to this girl doin’ some squats in the gym yesterday, she’s lookin’ fine as hell. Way I figure, she’s prolly hitched to some jarhead who’s out in bumfuck nowhere for the next six months. So I get to thinkin’, maybe she’s feeling a little lonely? maybe she might some company…” The other man pours himself some water, from the look on his face David can tell that he’s invested in the story. “I’m about to hit on her, and guess fucking what dude?” “What?” “I was so busy lookin at her ass, I didn’t even see this broad was squatting more than I am!” Both men started whooping with laughter, the one with the water laughs so hard that he spills a little on the carpet. The other man caught his breath and continued. “So now I’m fuckin stunned, right? How’s some high school sweetheart out here crushin’ my PR’s and still lookin’ like she’s ready for the homecoming dance? So, I check her name tag, and later I looked ‘er up in the database. Turns out the bitch is a friggin Scout. Sniper. Bro. First in her goddamn class! I’m just a fuckin marine thinkin’ I’m gonna get some tail, and I almost got it in with the deadliest woman in the room! who knew!” The two laughed again but less hard, then finally turn to acknowledge David and Marcus. “Howdy boys” The loud one says, sitting down in the seat closest to the door, about as far away from David and Marcus as possible. “Hey guys” says the water boy, who sits down next to the loud one. “Aaron, Andre, glad y’all could make it” David said warmly, as though he wasn’t made uncomfortable by Aaron’s loud and misogynistic banter. Marcus gave them a small wave. Both Aaron and Andre were dressed in their fatigues, even down to the boots. The only reason they were even in here was to keep from getting court-martialed. David pursed his lips and drummed his hands lightly on his thighs. “Whelp, we got a couple minutes till session starts, but seeing as this is about as big as our crowd usually gets I think we can just move right alo-” “Excuse me?” David looked up at the young man standing in the doorway. His hair was short, but it’s not high and tight like an active duty jarhead. From the look of him he probably just got back from a tour. Maybe he was just on some R&R. “This is the AA meeting, right? Am I in the right place?” “Oh yes of course!” David says. It’s been over two months since David’s seen a new face shown up to one of these meetings, and suddenly he didn’t feel so silly about all those empty, perfectly-spaced chairs anymore. “Please, come take a seat with us, we have cookies and coffee if you’d like, we were just about to recite the Serenity Prayer.” “Welcome to the fuckin’ cult” Aaron mutters to the new guy as he sits down. “Ahem,” David says, quieting the room. “Okay, repeat after me” David bowed his head and recited the prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference.” * The men repeated David’s words, though it felt slightly awkward. The Serenity Prayer didn’t sound very good as a call-and-response. “Okay” David said, turning to the new guy. “Since you’re new here, would you mind introducing yourself and maybe telling us why you’re here?” “Uh, okay, my name is Royce, I’m from Topeka Kansas and-” “And you’re an Alcoholic” David interrupted. “You have to say that you’re an alcoholic if you’re here” “Oh” Royce says, annoyed because he was just about to say that. “And I guess I’m an alcoholic.” “Hi Royce” The men all say, unaware of how weird it is that they have to recognize the new guy by his alcoholism before his humanity. Royce continues, “Anyway, I’ve been stateside for over a year now, and I’ve downed a fifth of Jack almost every day since.” Royce scratched his neck in discomfort. “My wife filed for a divorce two weeks ago, and I didn’t know where else to turn. I heard the base held AA meetings and that’s how I wound up here.” Royce chuckles uncomfortably and doesn’t say anything else. The lights hummed loudly for a moment and began flicker. In those seconds of darkness David felt a chill rising in his lower back   Marcus was the first to break the silence. “Mind if I ask where you served Royce?” “Korengal Valley,” Royce responded, “two tours.” “Holy shit,” Aaron whispered to Andre. “This dude’s the real deal.” David thought about interrupting, some people didn’t like to talk about fighting, especially on day one. But Royce seemed open enough. David knew enough about the Korengal Valley to know that Aaron was right, it was the real deal. The Korengal Valley was a remote wilderness in northeast Afghanistan, defined by snowy mountains and thick pine forest. The few outposts that the Marines had there were small and remote, making air support and troop reinforcements a rare luxury. It was a place for survivalists. The Afghan fighters who occupied the region were some of the toughest in the country, and they knew the terrain far better than any American. Nobody could go to a place like that and come out clean on the other side. “To tell you the truth, I almost miss the Valley,” Royce said. “Every day I was out there I felt like I had a purpose. One day we would be raiding a weapons depot, another day we’d be negotiating with the local tribes. There were a lot of days where we just did nothing, but we always had a goal.” Royce looked down at his hands. “Out there you know what’s important. All that matters is protecting your buddies, and keeping the bad guys away, but over here? I can’t make heads or fucking tails of anything.” He bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I came home and learned that everyone thinks the war is bullshit. They think that the war I lost myself and my friends fighting for was a mistake. They either let me cut in line at the airport or they call me a baby killer, but nobody actually wants to deal with me, nobody cares what I think.” David thought about saying something, but was stunned by how open Royce was about his feelings. It took Marcus over a year to start talking about his experiences in Vietnam. Aaron and Andre still hadn’t talked at all about what they saw in Iraq. It was a strange position to be in as a social worker. Normally the talks here were about day-to-day struggles with sobriety, and it was rare to see someone cut down to the root of the problem on day one. Marcus looked up, his glasses reflected the ceiling lights so that his eyes became two perfect glowing orbs. His voice was cold but reverent. “I take it you met Death a few times out there didn’tcha Royce? David raised a finger, about to tell Marcus off for asking such an inappropriate question, but Royce responded before he could get a word out. The lights dimmed slightly as he spoke. “In the Korengal, everyone meets Death. It’s hard to explain.” “What did Death look like to you?” Marcus said, leaning over his chair, taking the final bite from his cookie. “It varied. Sometimes when we felt strong, Death was like a pack of wolves. They followed us on raids, howling like mad when we shot our rifles. We felt like reapers when we got into firefights. Death made us fearless, and we would watch them tear our enemies’ limb from limb. I remember feeling unstoppable when Death was on our side. I think our boys stopped praying to God while we were out there, because Death was the only one who brought results.” “Sorry Royce,” Marcus interrupted. “You okay David?” he asked turning his head, his eyes still hidden behind those reflective glasses. David was utterly confused. Normally he was the one in control of these meetings but now he was out of his depth. Was this some kind of weird metaphor? Was Royce blackout drunk? “Sorry,” David said, “Please continue.” “But yeah, Death could be anything at any time.” Royce resumed. “When we shelled Taliban outposts, Death was a huge black giant. It smashed trees and stomped buildings, screaming and vomiting fire as it went. We would go down after the bombings to inspect the damage and find all kinds of horrible things, and it gave us comfort to know that it was Death who did it, and not us.” Royce stared at his shoes. “I’m sorry I feel like I’m hogging the conversation, does anyone else wanna talk?” The room was silent. “What about when Death came for your buddies?” Andre asked. “We formed a weird relationship with Death out there.” Royce answered, frowning as he looked downward. The look in his eyes fell somewhere between shame and frustration, but it was hard to read. “Some days it would turn on us. I watched my best friend get taken right in front of me. Death was a giant black screaming banshee, with long talons made of lead. It tore his throat open not six feet away from me. And my buddy just slumped down under a tree. We took his dog tags and that was it. I barely even remember his name. Death constantly reminded us of the nature of our relationship, and we were wise to stay in our lane. I brought Death six more souls that day, and in return I was safe.” Marcus squinted at Royce in confusion, but with his eyes hidden away only his voice gave away his puzzlement. “You weren’t ever scared of Death?” Royce paused for a moment before speaking. “Not for a while, no. But there was one day when all of that changed. For a long time the enemy never knew the exact location of our base. They would shoot mortars off in our general vicinity, and we’d hear the mountains shake as they missed their targets entirely. One day I was out with a couple squads on patrol, and our radio starts goin’ nuts, they’re saying our base got hit. I get back as soon as I can, and its absolute chaos. They’ve already got body bags lined up, two of our barracks look like the surface of the moon. And Death is everywhere, a flock of black vultures picking at bodies and squawkin’ like hell. After that day Death didn’t ride with us no more.” David watched Royce’s face as he told his story, noting that he described this phantom of death with the same emotional clarity as his earlier commentary. His mind buzzed with questions but chose to keep his mouth shut instead. “What the fuck man.” Aaron said, squinting at Royce. “So Death was like a demon or something?” David looked over to Aaron, feeling some sort of relief that he wasn’t the only one in the room confused by Royce’s angel of death. “I dunno” Royce said, sounding slightly embarrassed. “Death doesn’t look like that at all, man.” Aaron said, “I saw it too.” Marcus butted in, “Death looks like a lot of things to a lot of people.” Now Andre spoke, “Nah man, Aaron and I saw the same thing, Marcus. Ya don’t forget a thing like that.” Aaron spoke up again, his deafening voice obscuring all others. “’Dre and I were both in the first battle of Fallujah, AKA Operation Vigilant Resolve AKA a shit-show to end all shit-shows.” He paused for dramatic effect, it was this professional storyteller act that was Aaron’s least attractive feature from David’s point of view. “We were in that whole mess from day one. At the time, it was glorious. Just imagine being in a convoy of 2000-plus jarheads, rollin’ in on Humvees at night, fighter jets rippin’ by so loud that you worry the sky itself might rip apart. We made the helicopter scene from Apocalypse Now look like kids playing in a sandbox. We were apex predators, tippy top of the food chain, and boy was there prey to be had.” David was perplexed. If Aaron was so proud of his combat in Fallujah why hadn’t he talked about these events sooner? Despite his tough guy attitude Aaron had always shied away from talking about the war. Regardless of how strange the conversation sounded, David was getting some real insight into Aaron’s history, and was intrigued to hear more. “I was up in the turret, and ‘Dre was our driver. We spent most of the night circling the city while our jets rained hell. Now keep in mind, this was all because some hajis blew up four Americans a few weeks earlier, made a big fucking parade out of em. They dragged the bodies through the streets, and hung em up over some big bridge, then sent the footage to the news so everybody could see. It was disgraceful, the biggest fuck you to our country since 9/11. So needless to say we were all pretty pissed. They could’ve drowned the city in blood that day and I wouldn’t have batted an eye.” Aaron paused after he said that, as if he had misspoken. But a second or two passed and he resumed the story. “After that first night, we went all in. I’m talking house-to-house sweeps, shootouts ‘round every corner. And the whole time, I notice this weird little speck hovering above the center of town, no matter where we are you can always see it, especially me, since I’m up in the turret this whole time. Most of the time we’re too busy looking for snipers and trying not to run over IED’s to notice, but throughout the day I see this speck getting bigger and bigger. It was the kind of thing that on a normal day would be a big fuckin’ deal if it showed up in New York City, but under the circumstances at the time I figured there were bigger fish to fry.” Aaron leaned back, letting the weight of his story sink in, looking around the room to gauge the interest level of the audience. To David he looked a lot more like a kid telling a ghost story than a grown man reliving the horror of his past. Yet just as David thought this, Aaron leaned in again, his eyes fell quietly onto a piece of dirt at the center of the circle. “That all changed when we got to the center of town though. We had been told to hold back while a couple tanks cleared a building of snipers. I heard the shot and the whole building came down, you could hear the foundation screaming as it went down. And then we were given a green-light to proceed. Just beyond where the building was, as the smoke cleared, we could see the speck. It was a lot bigger now, and we could see it in much greater detail. That’s when I realized what I was looking at. The object was a huge ball, but it was pulsating, sorta like a heartbeat. I could see hundreds of arms and legs sticking out of it, and the whole thing was jet black. It was dripping tar and smelled like shit.” Aaron’s eyes went around the room again. “From then on, I noticed that with every person that died in that city, every child, every woman, every haji, and every jarhead, it got bigger. We moved around the city like cats hunting mice, chasin’ and fightin’ ‘til we cornered them, then finished ‘em off. But Death was always looming above us, slick with oil and dripping all over us until we couldn’t bear to look at ourselves. Death left a stink on us that we couldn’t wash clean. Fallujah counted as a victory in the history books, but it wasn’t one we wanted to write home about. 800 dead, most of them civilians.” Aaron sat there twiddling his thumbs, a uniquely introspective look soured his face, and the room went quiet again. David had never seen anything like it from a guy like Aaron, and half expected him to jump up and yell ‘gotcha bitch!’ but that moment never came. David searched within himself for something to say, but found himself speechless. What could he possibly say that would resonate with these warriors? He had always tried to see the best in his clients, but it had become far too easy to see people like Aaron as broken drunks who didn’t even have their own best interest at heart. For the first time David saw through to the heart of what these men were saying, that they saw something they couldn’t explain, and were forever hurt because of it. He glanced up at the clock, 7:58. Time was up. David ended the session abruptly and watched the men get up and leave. There was a silent frustration as they left, a certain unfinished business to the whole affair. Marcus seemed especially hurt, perhaps he had his own story to tell. David gathered up the chairs and set them back into the storage closet. He wheeled the table out of the room, putting away the cups and sugar and cream, then dumped the water and coffee into a bathroom sink. Last of all he took down the 12 Steps Poster, disappointed that none of his knowledge of the Big Book** had been relevant for tonight’s meeting. He stepped into his silver Volvo and turned the key. A black cat sat in the grass across from his car illuminated in his headlight beams, licking its paw for a moment before running into the darkness. A primordial fear moved up his spine, and David felt the presence of something unearthly in his vicinity. He pushed these feelings aside and drove into the night.

*: The Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr is commonly read at Alcoholics Anonymous meetings **: The Big Book, By Bill Wilson is a general guideline for the Alcoholics Anonymous Dogma