#but for a long time they weren't able to like. show it in a constructive way. and they'd often argue etc

[amelikos]

Sango and Onyx were quite hostile to each other the first time Hamber summoned them to go on a mission together with him all the way back in HZ024.

They were both arguing and didn't really want to be together. Sango didn't want Hamber to bring Onyx with them, and Onyx considered Sango as someone who would get in his way and didn't want her there either. (They turned out to be able to work well together, but they'd often clash because of their approach towards things.)

In fact, they weren't even the first people Hamber wanted to bring on a mission with him in Galar. Hamber asked about Spinel and Agate before considering both Sango and Onyx. They were a default choice, not the first people he would have asked for.

Which is quite interesting compared to Hamber summoning them to go on a mission now.

I think Hamber is asking for them specifically because he doesn't trust Spinel and Agate at the moment. So there is still a bit of a "default choice" angle at play here, but still, they are the first ones who come to his mind as people he can rely on in this situation.

He is also flattering their egos to get them to do what he is asking, but I think he is truthful in his assessment. They weren't really referred to as such before this moment, but this is the writing pointing out why Sango and Onyx are a duo at all. It's because they complement one another. One being rational, the other being bold (which is interesting because that description reminded me of Liko and Roy).

Onyx taking the initiative to say "let's go, Sango" really shows how far they've come too, considering that the first time Hamber asked them to come with him on a mission, they didn't want to be around each other. Now, it feels like they don't mind being with each other (and actually want to be together).

Also, it feels meaningful to me that Onyx calls Sango by her name since we know that giving out his own name and being remembered is something important to him. He gave out his own name to Liko as a show of respect towards her in HZ066 and asked her to remember it. He also called Liko by her name, and up until now, I think Sango and Liko are the only ones he's called by name at all. So, Sango being the only one he regularly calls by name stands out in this aspect because it means he acknowledges her.

And I need to point out that Sango and Onyx haven't argued once in this episode. When Hamber asked them to come with him to Galar in HZ024 and HZ025, they kept throwing words at each other but this time, they didn't.

In fact, they haven't butted heads or argued in a while. Precisely, the last time they did was in HZ046 at the beginning of the Terastal Debut chapter and Clavell told them to cut it out and be courteous to each other. Ever since then, they haven't argued once. I think it really shows how much their school lives impacted them in that way. It feels like they are becoming a bit more honest and more used to each other. They've become proper teammates now.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

text message. l Joel Miller

a/n : a while ago i got a message from anon asking me to write something for joel. i managed to do it today. sorry you had to wait so long. i hope you like it.

warnings : pre-outbreak Joel, some angst, misunderstanding, age difference (about 10 years), suspected pregnancy, argument, Sarah and Tommy mentioned, lots of uncertainty and fear

[Joel Miller masterlist] [my masterlist]

He shouldn't have done that. It was crossing all boundaries, violating your privacy and trust, but he couldn't help himself. When your phone made a series of strange noises that indicated a message had been received and you were in the bathroom at a gas station, Joel reached for it and looked at the screen. A cold chill ran down his spine a second later.

"Two weeks late? Did you take a test? You should see a doctor. What did Joel say?"

A heavy stone landed squarely in his stomach, and he felt his head spin. “Fuck!” he groaned almost silently, shaking his hand as he placed the phone back where you’d left it.

He immediately guessed what you and your friend could have been talking about, he had no doubts. If you were pregnant, that complicated everything.

Joel Miller wasn't entirely sure if he should do it, but when he met you on one of his bar crawls with his younger brother Tommy, he felt like fate had finally favored him. He was almost thirty-six, had a teenage daughter, worked hard, and couldn't remember the last time he'd met a woman. You, on the other hand, were simply beautiful, talkative, with a charming smile on your lips. You were also almost ten years younger than him.

It didn't bother him as much on your first date, or your second, or when you kissed on the couch, or after the first time you had sex. Joel felt younger and happier with you, and everyone around him noticed the change in him.

He fell in love like a stupid teenager, and you didn't make it any easier for him. It was only after a few months that he started to wonder. Maybe dating you wasn't so wise? Maybe you were really too young for him?

When you would visit him at work, bringing him lunch or something, guys would often make fun of him. Joel wasn't as immune to this as he thought. His insecurities grew, and worries about whether he was doing the right thing also grew in his mind too.

And now this. Pregnancy. When Sarah was born, he was too young, and now he felt too old to be playing in diapers. What if you, too, disappeared, like Sarah's mother? Would he be able to cope? What if no woman saw the possibility of a permanent relationship with him, and when the baby came, she simply ran away?

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

He didn't even notice that you had returned and were already sitting next to him. He nodded uncertainly and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Tommy called, something at the construction site." he lied, quickly starting the engine.

"Do you want to go there?"

"What? No, I don't have to." Joel replied, "Sarah has a game today."

He didn't say anything else the entire ride home, and then to the game you went to with them. He seemed strangely distant, but you were certain he was constantly thinking about work. Even when you suggested ice cream afterward, Joel showed almost no interest.

You dropped Sarah off at a friend's for a sleepover and you were sure that you and Joel would go to his place, but when he suddenly said, "I'll drop you home." You already knew something was wrong.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked as he pulled the truck up in front of your apartment. Once again, you spent the entire ride in silence, which wasn’t normal.

He shook his head. "No, everything's fine."

“Joel? Look at me, please.” He did it reluctantly, but eventually your eyes met. “You’ve been out of sorts all day. What’s wrong?”

"I've had a lot on my mind lately and..."

"Please, don't lie to me." You interrupted him. You weren't mad, he saw concern on your face. "Did something happen?"

“I…” he began, but the words were hard to get out of his throat. He felt your warm hand on his forearm and it broke him. “Are you pregnant?”

"W-What?" you blurted out, completely surprised.

"I saw, quite by accident, a message from your friend. You're two weeks late. Something about a test and a doctor. I need to know."

You looked at him with slightly parted lips, a small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows. You couldn't gather your thoughts in your head, but Joel clearly couldn't stop himself from talking.

“I think about it all the time. You’re still young, you have plans,” he said, and you felt every word hit you harder. “I know we should be more careful. This whole thing between us is still new and uncertain. You’re so young, I shouldn’t have… Fuck. I fucked it up.”

"What the hell are you talking about, Miller?" you gasped, completely stunned by his words "What do you mean - too young? I..."

"Look at us. I have a teenage daughter, and you're at the beginning of your career. You can leave this town anytime you want, because there's nothing keeping you here. But what if you're pregnant? That complicates things like hell and..."

"Stop it!" you raised your hand in warning "You're talking nonsense! I knew how old you were from the beginning, I knew about Sarah and it didn't bother me."

Joel rolled his eyes. "Now you say that."

“Oh! And you’re a know-it-all!” you snorted angrily. “So I think it’s safe to say you took advantage of a young and fresh pussy.”

Joel gave you a stern look, but you didn't even blink. You were ready to fight him if he wanted to. You were aware of his fears and insecurities, but you thought that by this point you had already shown him how much you cared about him. Age was just a number to you, and ten years didn't make much difference when you weren't a teenager anymore.

"I never thought of you that way." he replied, clenching his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white.

"I feel different now." you replied, shrugging. "Because you're acting like you're just looking for an excuse to break up with me. Because you read some message on my phone? Please! That's pathetic!"

“Pathetic?!” Joel raised his voice. How could you be so indifferent to how your life might change? No one in their right mind would decide to have a child so soon. But of course, you were still young, the romantic vision of a family still lingered in your mind, and you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

Joel wanted to say something else, but you suddenly grabbed your things and got out of the car slamming the door. He quickly got out after you.

"Did you take the test? When are you seeing the doctor?" he asked, catching you before the door.

"Leave me alone." you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think I do."

You looked at him in a way Joel had never experienced before. Your warm gaze turned hard and angry, your mouth a thin line, and your entire body took on a defensive stance. You had never argued like this before.

"Fine." you finally said. "I'll tell you. I have an appointment on Monday. Are you happy?"

"I'll go with you."

“Don’t be ridiculous, this doesn’t concern you at all,” you laughed nervously. “And it definitely doesn’t concern you now.”

Joel looked at you in surprise. So he's already screwed everything up? He's already erased those few really good months?

“I’m not pregnant,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “My last checkup showed I had ovarian cysts. They caused my periods to be irregular, and now my period is a few weeks late. The doctor said I should see him if that happens.”

"Cysts?" Joel repeated.

"Yes! I didn't tell you anything because I didn't see the need." you replied "I'm not pregnant, Joel. And you... You, fucked up."

You turned around and disappeared through the door before he had a chance to say anything.

Joel had all night to think about what had happened. All night without sleep, when he kept seeing your angry face in his mind, when he kept repeating your words and feeling worse by the moment. He picked up the phone several times to call you, but he kept giving up, terrified you wouldn't pick up.

What would he have done if you hadn't picked up? Would that have meant the end for both of you? He couldn't believe that his own fears and insecurities had led him to attack you so suddenly. He could have done it differently, he could have waited for you to say something. Instead, he had cornered you and forced you to admit to something that was clearly your own personal issue, one that you wanted to resolve on your own.

He knew nothing about women's health issues. When Sarah got her first period, he managed with the help of a nice store employee, and then his daughter took over. For Joel, a missed period meant pregnancy, and that meant panic and everything he had experienced before.

No, he didn't want to make excuses for his behavior. He had screwed up. He felt like you were disappointed in him and he had no idea what to do about it.

It was still early when he showed up at your place. You opened the door, sleepy, with ruffled hair, in one of those oversized t-shirts you slept in.

"Joel?" you mumbled hoarsely, rubbing your face, "Did something happen? Something with Sarah?"

He shook his head. "No. I had to see you. I had to... Fuck." He scratched the back of his neck, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Can we talk? I, I need to know that I didn't completely fuck this up."

You looked at him for a moment in silence, as if you were considering his words in your head. It was a really long few seconds, but you finally pulled away, allowing Joel to step inside. The apartment was bathed in morning sunlight, and Joel's eyes immediately went to the few framed photos of him and Sarah that you had at your place. Another needle stabbed him in the heart.

"So?" you asked, folding your arms over your chest. "I'm listening."

"I don't know where to start." he mumbled completely sincerely.

"I suggest you start from the beginning."

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm a fucking idiot."

You tilted your head. "Good start."

Joel took a deep breath. He wanted to do it right, he wanted to take advantage of the chance he was given. Maybe it was the last one he had.

"I know now that I should have been honest with you from the beginning. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I still can't believe you chose me. I kept thinking we weren't right for each other, that we were too different."

“Are you still thinking about age?”

He nodded. "Yeah. See, you're young, and I..."

You rolled your eyes and cursed loudly. “If you’re going to give me this age difference bullshit, maybe just leave. Jesus! That’s not twenty or fifty. Joel, I’m an adult, I work, I pay taxes. I get to decide who I’m with?”

“You think so now.”

“I thought so from the beginning! When I met you, the first thing I thought was that you have gorgeous eyes and really broad shoulders. I felt good with you, I liked you, and I think you’re really sexy. It has nothing to do with your age.” You took a deep breath and put your hands on your hips, like you were trying to explain something really obvious. “Sarah is amazing, I love spending time with her. I love you, even though sometimes you drive me crazy, and yesterday you really pissed me off. I didn’t tell you about the doctor because there was nothing to talk about. But if you had any suspicions, you should have come to me instead of getting even more upset. I felt like you were just looking for a reason to break up with me.”

“It’s not like that.” Joel took a step toward you. “When Sarah’s mother left us, I was left to fend for myself. Yes, there was Tommy and my mother to help us, but single parenting is no easy feat. I was certain you would disappear, too. Not only would you leave me with a child, but you would simply conclude that I was somehow flawed, that I wasn’t cut out to be with you. I guess I preferred sabotaging us rather than simply facing my fears.”

You looked at him, trying to understand his words. His face, eyes, and body language told you he wasn't lying. Joel was full of uncertainty and doubt, but you thought you were past that stage. You told him many times that you loved him, you didn't belittle his needs, and you always helped him with Sarah or around the house. And yet he felt all of this?

“I’m trying to understand you, Joel, I really am.” You finally said, sighing softly. “But I can’t be the only one in this relationship fighting for us. I feel like no matter what I say or do, you’ll find a reason why we can’t be together. Do you even love me?”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, moving closer and taking your face in his hands. “You have no idea how much I love you. And that scares me. I’m always afraid you’ll find all my flaws.”

"You have a lot of them. I do too. But does it matter when we're happy together?"

No, it didn't matter. The fear of losing you showed Joel what really mattered to him. He cared about you more than he could admit. He saw how perfectly you fit into his family, always trying to help everyone and make everyone happy. He didn't think he'd ever feel the same way about anyone again. 

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what I could do to fix this." He whispered, you felt tears welling up in your eyes at how much he was going through. "But I don't want to end what we have. I love you, I'm sure of that."

"You think so now." You replied, parroting his words.

He smiled slightly. “I’ve known this for a long time, and I think the knowledge scared me. The fear that you’d disappear and I’d be left alone with this feeling. I don’t want you to disappear. I want to stay, permanently.”

"I want to stay too, Joel. Don't push me away ever again."

"Never again, baby."

He kissed you, softly and tenderly, as if he was afraid he still might. But when you kissed him back, Joel felt an unimaginable sense of relief. He had you in his arms again, all the dark thoughts swirling in his head dissipated and he felt happiness fill him. Your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you, letting him kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

You could get through this, together. By being more honest, by giving each other a chance at happiness and love, by supporting each other. Joel knew he would do anything to deserve you, and you couldn't imagine not giving him another chance.

“I’ll go to the doctor with you on Monday if you want,” he said as you poured him a fresh cup of coffee and sat down next to him at the table.

“If you want. I could use some support,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and smiled. He would give you anything, and you never asked for much. You just wanted him to love you, and Joel wanted that too.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[bundoesnotcompete]

Reader is an Aeon. Possible oocness with Sunday. Roughly 1900 words. Not proof read. See end for author notes. Edited some more errors on 9/8/24

Many of the humans called you the Aeon of Sleep or Dreams. While you did sleep quite a bit, that is not what your true power was. You were truly the Aeon of Control. Though humanity did not remember the time that you were Control, instead only knowing you as sleep.

Instead of using your powers to control things in the universe, you chose to sleep. Of course, you had created a massive dream world that would put Pencony to absolute shame. You didn't want to be bored like you were in reality. The beings on the planet you slept on had constructed a massive temple around you. It was dull colored, soft on the eyes so it did not glitter in the eternal moonlight.

Sleep was your escape from the boring reality that was the early, isolated stages of humanity and the universe. While the birth of aeons such a Qlipoth and Oroboros did catch your eye, they were dull. They had no fun and so you grew bored again with reality. You decided that the humans needed a bit more fun in their lives in that moment.

So you turned the entire world into a massive dreamscape, your most devout followers helping care for and bring others to the world.

Of course, life got more intresting once Akivili connected your little dreamscape to other worlds. Although you remained sleeping, you kept eyes everywhere. The rise and fall of civilisations, aeons, and everything was getting more intresting. In fact, sleeping made it easier to watch events unfold.

Your followers were soon dubbed "Sleepwatchers" and "Dreamgivers" by many of the other civilisations. Of course you had extremists in your followers, but you paid little attention to them even as they caused havoc. You weren't one to try and play favorites, afterall.

Of course, you did visit many in their sleep. From the smallest child to the occasional aeon. Yaoshi and Aha being your most favorites, they knew how to have fun.

Of course as your cult expanded, you decided that you may need an Emanator to keep things in check. It hadn't taken you long to find a good one to help run the show on your dreaming world. You allowed your first Emanator to become their desired form and run your world. They have been doing so for thousands of years now.

When other Aeons would try to consume you into their path, you wiped them from existence and consumed them. The humans had taken notice to that and knew you were powerful.

You weren't always a pleasent aeon. Often if you grew tired of some of your followers, you would give them good dreams before killing them. It only fueled your extremist though, they craved the dreams you would give them. The feeling of being loved and having good dreams before they were killed deepened their devotion.

Your Emanator had asked to be able to deal with them, but you denied them. You did not have another to fill their place. You reassured them when they protested. Perhaps when another caught your eye you would give them their duty and your Emanator could hunt the extremists down.

You took a more human form when you visited dreams, most were unable to tell that you were an aeon.

Like right now, the man you were talking to in Penacony was unable to tell that you were an aeon. You took the ice cream he handed you and found a spot to observe.

Penacony was impressive considering it was manmade. You could tell the dream had its massive flaws, but the small area that was fully constructed was in good shape. It could take them hundreds to thousands of years to even accomplish what you could do in minutes.

It was here that you spotted him. Sunday.

You would be a liar if you said that he wasn't pretty. While that was part of what caught your eye, the true thing that caught it was his path. Aeons often had the ability to see who or what path someone or something followed. The path of dead or consumed aeons was rare, new followers even rarer. His path was that of Order, but Ena had long been consumed by Xipe.

How did he get onto that path, you wondered.

You began to quietly watch him after that. You often pretended to bump into him occasionally and starting conversation with him. He did not seem to pick up on your godhood and you were alright with that.

For years following you first encounter with him, you managed to grow a sort of friendship with him. Though you never were truly friends, you knew him and he knew you. If he happened to see you and he wasn't busy, he stopped to chat with you or sit somewhere with you. You never got to be true friends with him until he started too seem your company.

You were not great with emotions, but you loved his company. You knew that.

For another year, you two grew close. You got to see Sunday for who he truly was and not who he had to be. He was a bit controlling, but he loved deeply and cared deeply. He only wanted what was best for everyone and everything. He was what humans called a people pleaser, even if he didn't show it. While he did know when to put his foot down and put an end to something, he still wanted the best option for everyone.

The dreamscape of Penacony shifted. You felt it shifting, crumbling, rebuilding. Sunday was up to something. Though he did not show you what it was, you could still see it from your bird's eye view. You wanted to see it in its entirity. So, one day when you were visiting him, you told him you had to return home for awhile.

"I'm needed back at the Dreaming Home. I cannot delay any longer." You had said to him. He seemed disappointed by that but wished you well. That was your final meeting in your human form for awhile.

You watched as Sunday put his plan into place. You understood now why his path was of Order and not of Harmony. You watched as he almost fufilled his dream. As he almost ascended to goodhood. But, he could not do it, for the others would not have it.

The Astral Express Crew fought and defeated him, his own sister fighting against him. While you did not blame them for fighting back, you knew what would happen to him.

You knew this emotion as anger. How dare they touch one of your favorites like he was filth. He only wanted what was best. Did they not see that?

No. You would not allow it.

Pulling Sunday into your own dreamscape wasn't hard. He laid asleep for awhile in the still water- like fluid of your dreamscape. You waited for him to wake. You floated atop your cloud as your hundreds of eyes shifted around the dreamscape. He finally stirred after awhile.

"Where am I?" He thought aloud.

"You finally awake. Sunday, my friend, how are you?" Your hsunting voice echoed thoughout the dreamscape. He stood up and looked around. You could see the caution and weariness quickly growing. You spoke again.

"What is it that you jokingly called me? Your Angel?"

"What is this?" He demanded taking a few steps in a direction. Always so guarded. Perhaps your other form would do? You spawned in your friend-shaped body behind him. Taking a few steps foward, you hugged him from behind.

"I thought you'd know my voice and not be so guarded." You felt him stiffened in your hold and he turned his head to look at you. Shock was quickly coloring his exhausted features. You let go and let him fully turn to you. He opened his mouth and you cut him off before he could question you.

"I am known a the Aeon of Sleep, or Dreams to some. That's how I was able to drag you here, my friend." You took a good at him. He looked rough and worn down. You could see Harmony and Order had abandoned him.

"Look at what they've done to you. Even THEY abandoned you." You cupped his face and faced to his ear wings. "Oh I had been so excited even you were about to ascend. You had such good intentions."

"You were an aeon the whole time?" He asked, face returning to a slightly bewildered neutrality. You returned your hand to your side.

"Of course. Do not think that the me you met was my false self. I do not make friends often, Little Bird."

"Why?" He was quickly being overwhelmed. His soul crushing defeat had ruined his emotional state. He was hurting, you could see that.

"Being friends with you? I was merely curious at first, but i came to enjoy your company. Dragging you here? To offer you something." You shifted slightly, your more human form turning into clouds for a few moments. He looked to you as if saying to go on.

"Join me. Harmony and Order have abandoned you, but I will not. Do not take this as pity. I want you by my side." He did not let the shock slip onto his face this time, but it rippled throughout the dreamscape.

"I am imprisoned by the family. I need to see justice through." Sunday protested weakly.

"Justice for what? Wanting what is best for your people? There are people who have done far worse then you that they need to worry about. I will take you to my planet and there you can decide what you want. You are my friend Sunday." You responded. He saw him debate internally. "They will never welcome you back to Penacony. They do not want you, but I will take you. I want you, not for power, but who you are. It may be hard, but the Dreaming Planet will always welcome you. What say you?"

He deflated but came to a decision.

"I will go with you." You gave him a beaming smile before hugging him. Cradling him as you shifted forms and he left the dreamscape. Yes, you had much work to do.

--------

When the Astral Express caught wind of Sunday's Disappearance, they had all been slightly alarmed. Robin had told them that there was no sign of him or how he escaped.

The express had come up with a theory. There had been an Aeon watching them fight Sunday. Everyone felt it. Perhaps the Aeon had something to do with it?

Stelle informed Robin that they would keep an eye out for him. She thanked Stelle and they left it at that.

The Astral Express was heading for is next destination, The Dreaming Planet of Somnus. They would remain unaware of Sunday's Whereabouts until they entered the City of Sopor. Only then would they find out that he had been chosen as an Emanater of the Aeon of Sleep. Later, the crew discovered that the aeon was actually the suspected lover of Sunday back in Penacony.

Good for him, the crew collectively agreed.

"It would make a good story. The Sleeping God is Actually my Lover?!" March had joked.

Sunday had tried to defend himself from the teasing, but your laughter in his mind had stopped him.

"Yes. A wonderful story. You and I have a good story, my love."

--------

End notes:

I just randomly wrote this snippet. Not used to Sunday's character sorry for the oocness. I just wanted to get this out of my mind. I hope you enjoyed it.

Edited on 9/2/24 i found some errors while rereading

[luvfy0dor]

Ahemm can I request s Fyodor x reader whos also russian but speaks better Japanese then him (i find it funny he's bad at learning Japanese) ♡

“Trust Me, Mine is Better ♡⁠˖” Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; Google translate Japanese, cursing, not proofread

Description; Fyodors partner is also Russian, but is better with speaking Japanese and learned faster, so his partner helps him out

A/n; I wanna have a study date w him so bad omg 3:

• He'd be a teeny bit passive about it to be honest, but all in all he'd be proud of you. It's not often that he comes across someone who's better than him at anything intellectual.

ೃ⁀➷

Being in Japan with your boyfriend was lovely when he wasn't out being a terrorist. He loved to sight see whenever he left your homeland of Russia, but directions weren't his forte, nor was the Japanese language. You were able to speak it rather fluently though. You didn't have much of an accent to begin with, but however much of an accent you did have immediately disappeared when you opened your mouth to speak Japanese. He couldn't help but feel a little jealousy bubble in his chest when you could fluently speak with a random stranger in the street to ask which way something was, but he hid it well. As a matter of fact, he'd praise you.

"すみません、地下鉄の駅はどこですか?" (where is the subway station?) You asked when you stopped a man in the street, looking for a way home with your boyfriends hand in your own. You could almost feel Fyodors subtle glare gently burning through your skin like corrosives while you listened to the guy pointing you in the right direction. “ありがとう!" (Thank you) You say, giving a small nod of appreciation and leading Fyodor in the direction you were given. "Wow, Moya Lyubov, it's like you get better at speaking Japanese every day. Even your writing improves just as rapidly." The words rolled off his tongue smoothly and you gratefully accepted his compliments, smiling and squeezing his hand. "Thank you, yours does too. It's nice that we're both learning Japanese, so we can help eachother out." You say, looking at the street ahead of you, heading down a flight of stairs to a subway station.

"You sound like you're past simply learning." He says lightheartedly, a small smile on his face. You look over to him and nod. "I mean, I can get around, but I still have so much to learn and that's okay- Fedya, oh my gosh! We could have cute study dates together!! A lot of people do stuff like that in highschool or college, but since we were never together during either of those, we could do, like, a mock-study date." You say, excited by your new, groundbreaking idea. He seems amused by your enthusiasm, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him. “I wouldn't mind being taught how to speak and write better as long as it's by you. Other people are much more condescending and teasing." He says. You could only imagine he was referring to Nikolai after watching him show the clown a paper with large Japanese symbols written on the paper, to which Nikolai started giggling and asked him what the fuck it was supposed to be.

Needless to say that was the last time Fyodor turned to Nikolai for constructive criticism, he wrote him off as unhelpful in this manner. Instead he'd only get it from native speakers or people who are, in his eyes, fluent in the language. They could give him real advice. But since you were proposing a study date with him where he could get constructive advice from you and do some more learning of the language in his own way, there was no reason to pass that opportunity up. You both agreed on the next evening after he got home from a DOA meeting, and it was more than pleasant. You both laid in each other's presence, practicing your writing, doing Duolingo lessons here and there, and etc. You eventually got bored, craving your lovers attention instead of knowledge. You leaned over and brushed his hair away from his face before whispering into his ear. “キスしてもいいですか?" His eyebrows furrow and his head turns to face you.

"Can you what?" His words are slightly slurred together with his accent and sleepiness. His lips are pink and clearly chewed with focus and frustration and his eyelids are droopy. "Can I kiss you?" You repeat in English. His eyes widen and he grins, reaching out to cup your face, pulling you in. "You don't have to ask to kiss me, Moya Lyubov." He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet yours, moving them together and rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You entangle your fingers in his hair and part, taking a quick breath of air and resting your forehead against his. "I know, I just figured I'd give you a new phrase in Japanese." He laughs and pulls you into his thin body. "Who else would I need to say it to?" His hands rubbed up and down your back. "No one, but still- just let me be flirty while staying on topic, alright?" You say with a laugh, twirling his hair around your finger. Not to say neither of you learned anything during your study date, but just in case Fyodor didn't, he now knew how to ask to kiss you.

A/n; sorry this post is like an hour later than usual my bad chat ☹️

[spoiled-fawn]

John Price; Drop Everything Now.

Part 2

CW: PTSD, Songfic inspired by "Sparks Fly" (Not in a cringe way I promise)

GN!Reader who is a sergeant on TF141. WC: 2,262

AN: I needed to post this before I completely tore it apart (again) and decided to scrap it. LMK if you'd like a part two because I have a good chunk of it but unsure if I'd like to continue this since I want the PTSD to linger and not be just diminished because reader is love of his life (I'd like to at least try to have some realism, rip). This was actually created for a test run of writing PTSD so I am happy to take any constructive criticism or tips for writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Being stationed in the Middle East meant that you weren't used to much besides the hot sun baring down on every activity you did and dust storms that would blow over, which effectively made you shut your mouth to not breathe in the dirt. However, that didn’t mean that Mother Nature would not bless the dry lands with an ounce of rain every once in a while. 

You wouldn’t know about the rain usually unless you were outside training or on a mission when the dark clouds would roll in, giving you a rare break from the sun. Other times, the clouds would cover the stars and moon in the night sky, but you wouldn't be able to tell just what kind of clouds they were. 

And that, unfortunately, is how tonight is going without your knowledge.

The rain was never an issue on base, its greatest hindrance being the lack of vision, the annoyance of getting wet, and the general time it would take to wait it out. However, there was always the unspoken thought of the thunderstorms that could arise. 

You’ve served two years within TF141 as a sergeant, having been recruited and transferred to be on base under Price’s command. Now having some experience under your belt, you’ve seen a thing or two- but nothing compared to your superiors.

From an external point of view and reflection on yourself, it brings a possibility that your mind has yet to realize if the memories are getting trapped within yourself. Your nervous system may have gotten stuck in the past at a few points in time, but while you remain living in the action, your biggest symptom is nightmares and anxiety that you brush off each time.

The same can’t be said for your Captain.

Price, with his two decades of service, has lived through more than you could ever imagine and things he wishes to not recall. He plays the classic tough guy act, brushing his emotions off as something he can deal with when he’s home and not deployed- nor does he want to even believe they are necessary to process, his ways still being a bit old-fashioned.

When you were recruited, his viewpoint shifted a bit. Price wasn’t sure that you would be a good fit within the team, and debated putting you on a platoon further down the branch that he still oversaw from time to time. Yet, during your grace period, he would check up on you- being sure to debrief with you after long days of training exercises or drills that were getting harder and harder. When you had proven your worth to him and the team, an unspoken agreement between you two was formed. You would casually reside in his presence but keep it under the notion of him offering guidance to the rookie. This often resulted in you filling out reports or paperwork on your laptop in his office while he worked at his desk.

Price was not a sharer of his inner turmoil. But, sometimes, you would confide in him and he would allow a sliver of a softer man to peak out in the late hours of the night.

That's how the deeper part of your relationship worked with him. Hard-ass by day, and a mildly reserved man by late night. You’re close with the entirety of the team, but you’ve always had an attraction to Price, classically never trying to show it or verbalize it to anyone. Yet, you had a good hunch that he already knew from your softened behavior towards him when the veil of superior and subordinate came down to friends in the dark glow of his office.

You knew it was a bad idea to ever indulge yourself in having his attention and reciprocating it, but now you over-indulged for the last year and find yourself with a cavity at the sweetness you suck from his words. Your mind is always left in a trance on any touch he unknowingly spoiled you with; a hand to the small of your back, adjusting your elbows if you were using a heavier loadout during training, or a pat on the head after a job well done.

Tonight, the storm rolls in with thunder chasing right behind it. 

It's late in the evening as you stand in the common room, having had dinner late, and washing the dishes while quietly humming to yourself. The subconscious part of your mind notices the flashes of lightning and deep thunder that penetrate the barriers of the base but leaving it as a non-threat. You wash your dinner plate, moving the sponge around, but before you can put the plate down to dry, your phone rings with a call from Price. 

It's not unusual for him to call when he decides he’d like your presence while completing paperwork, yet your eyebrows furrow as you see the time to be later in the night than his usual request.

Before you can even speak into the phone after answering, your ear is polluted with the sound of his ragged breaths; the sound of rain hitting the ground is amplified more than what you hear while being inside. It sends a roll of skin-prickling anxiety down your spine as your eyes widen. “Price?” You ask after a blink, trying to understand what this call could be.

You hear it when he speaks, a tremor in the back of his throat and you can imagine the adrenaline-crazed look on his face. The sound of your name is called from him, and it almost sounds questioning, as if he isn't sure it's you, even though he called.

“I- I don’t know where I am…” He pants out, sounding choked up, trying to swallow air and the lack of saliva in his throat while in the pouring rain.

Drop everything now

Without a second thought, you drop the plate, the clatter of it breaking once hitting the ground echoes in the common room and snaps everyone's attention on you. Not having any need for apologies or reason, your body is already supplying the adrenaline needed to set into a dead sprint out of the common room as you weave past the other bodies to push through the hallway and enter the stairwell with the clamor of the metal doors swinging open.

“John, where are you- tell me what you see.” You call out as your body gets set on autopilot, practically flying down the stairs of the barracks and onto the ground floor moving into the hallways. “Do you see the training yard or do you see a road?” You pant out while pushing to find the exit door of the base.

It's here and now, that you now actively recognize the roll and clap of thunder as if it's taunting you to hurry up and find Price before it does.

But it seems it already has.

Each door, person, and corner you pass feels like a deliberate obstacle, frustrating you as you try to get outside faster.

“I- I see a road and the-” He’s interrupted by a bright flash, a strong shake of thunder following right after, and you hear him grunt in aggravation at the sound he lacks control over. With a call of your name, he makes a quiet plea. “Please, I need you here. Now.” He manages to ground out with a sharp breath, causing you to almost second guess yourself at what he said. 

You bank a hard left, towards the East entrance, finding the door to take you outside towards the main road that leads to the base's entrance. Shouldering the large door, you grit your teeth while taking the metal harshly against yourself, but almost come to a halt when you feel the pouring rain pelt on your body.

Meet me in the pouring rain

“Please.” His voice shakes again through the phone, and the rasp from his panting re-escalates the adrenaline through your body.

It breaks your heart to hear him sound like this as if he’s succumbing to his demons. “John, I’m gonna find you but you need to help me, ok?” You ask as your legs begin to burn from the force that you run through the damp earth with. “-you see the flag pole? ” You bark out while another flash of lightning crosses the sky, closing your eyes as you wince. “Hey- listen to me, focus on me.” You command, praying that he isn’t locked inside his memories.

After a moment, “Y- Yes, I see it. The- the rains comin’ down hard- won't fucking stop.”

The shake in his voice is back; he’s shivering and his irritability is beginning to build up faster as it makes itself evident the longer he stays held within the turmoil of his nervous system.

Running and finally entering the main yard after having had to cut through the detached buildings to make it to the front, you place your free hand over your eyes to try and gain some semblance of visibility while the flashes of lightning aid for a moment.

“Meet me there. It’ll be just you and me, only us.” You pleaded with a hint of firmness, needing to direct him as you move with haste towards the lit flagpole, the light being a beacon through the pelting rain.

While running in the dark and wet ground, you lose footing and slide your foot into loose gravel; your right elbow is now scraped while you clatter to the ground with a “Fuck-” Your voice breaks through the night air, as your yelp of pain staccatos out in the silence between the flash of light and complimenting rumble of thunder. 

In a moment before you can stand up, you hear your name being yelled out, whipping your head up in response. The raw tenacity of his voice through the thrumming of rainfall hits when there is no other force of the storm that can distract either of you.

Your gazes find each other; he looks frozen for a moment, then immediately runs to you.

“John-“ falls past your lips in a cry when you spot him. His fatigues stick to his body, his hair wet and bucket hat long gone. Making his way hurriedly, his body slows with unexpected grace as he helps you to your feet. Almost as if in a hurried frenzy, you latch onto him by his arms, blinking through the falling rain as you look up and search his face. 

The expression he wears, as he makes sure you’re alright, contradicts the voice he had just seconds earlier; his eyebrows furrowed with worry as he checks over you, quickly placing his large hands on your ribs to stand you upright as if you are a toddler who has just taken a tumble.

“Bloody- You alrigh’ sweetheart?” He asks as the warmth of his panting breath fans across your face while pulling you up against him.

“I’m ok, I just slipped from the rain. Thank you.” You speak while still holding him tight, latching onto him. Your heart aches at seeing him care for you no matter where his mind places him, always putting others before himself.

John nods, letting out a small sigh. The feeling of your warmth against his chest brings him back down as he looks over you, trying to blink the anxiety and rain from his eyes. The feeling of his hands, cold and now gentle, glides up to move the wet hair from your eyes. It surprises you for a moment as he stays completely silent besides the tremoring breaths he takes.

At the silence, you let a small huff of laughter escape before closing your eyes and giving a smile in relief at having him in your sight and arms, before fluttering your eyes open to gaze up at him. 

You return the gesture when you move your hand to wipe his hair off of his forehead, the rain having matted it down to his skin. “With me as I’m with you. Always with you, John.” The lull of your voice surprises both of you as it can be heard perfectly in the rain, with no sign of thunder or lightning interrupting your words. 

John cups the base of your skull, looking at the raindrops that fall in small splashes and trails along your face. His eyes dilate when focused on you, the sight of him this close and his icy blue eyes keep steadfast on you, leaving a haunting mark on your memory and heart.

He moves his head down to meet yours; pausing for a moment as if he isn't sure this is real- he isn’t sure that this isn’t a dream and his mind is granting him a wish. Is this a true trick of his mind? This can't be a memory, surely-

He looks as if he’s in pain, so you take the last leap of faith for him.

The new and added warmth of his lips on yours is tender. It contrasts the rough environment of where you stand, the life you both live and the constant battles faced within. Your arms and his alike move to wrap around each other in a harsh and tight embrace.

As the raindrops fall all over both your faces, you feel as if you’re in a movie and the climax has just hit when the lovers are united.

You both are soaking wet, but neither of you seems to mind. He pulls you back into him, deepening the kiss with a determined and desperate force.

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain.

[xiaoshengnu]

𝕸𝖞 𝕵𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖞 𝖙𝖔 𝖄𝖔𝖚 (2023)

overview : episode no - 24 | genre - wuxia

yun weishan has only ever known darkness. brought up and honed from a young age to become a spy under the mysterious sect wufeng, she longs for freedom. the drama begins as she is sent on a mission into the gong family, the enemy sect of wufeng. if she succeeds, freedom she gets. surrounded by schemes and treachery with possible death looming on both sides, yun weishan must navigate the dangerous waters of the gong family and her own turbulent emotions towards her target, gong ziyu.

l⃣e⃣ t⃣’ s⃣    b⃣e⃣g⃣i⃣n⃣

YALL THIS DRAMA. THIS DRAMA. this drama was simultaneously the worst and best thing I have experienced in a long time. however, if I could only use one word to describe this drama, it would 100% be stunning. the drama is absolutely stunning. from the music to the costuming to the makeup to the actors- this drama's visuals is quite frankly something never seen before in chinese dramaland- its so dark and brooding and so cool. the plot on the other hand...? let's get into it.

o⃣u⃣t⃣     o⃣ f⃣     t⃣ e⃣ n⃣

𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙 - 3/10

𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 - 7/10

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 - 7/10

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 - 10/10

𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕖 - 6.7

o⃣u⃣t⃣    o⃣ f⃣    f⃣ i⃣v⃣ e⃣

𝖍𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖊𝖒 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖚𝖊 - 💎💎💎💎💎

[ honestly, this drama is pretty unique I have to give it that much. in every way. the characters? the premise? and the style? I think the visuals alone grants it it's five gem value. ] 

𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖚𝖊 - ✨✨✨

[ despite the plot that is quite literally held up by like two stitches, I would probably rewatch it for the characters, but probably not think too deeply about the drama's construction as a whole because honestly- it would frustrate me to no end. ]

‘keep reading’ for detailed review

 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙 - 3

okay- hear me out y'all. I know people absolutely LOVE this drama and I am one of them, but I have to admit the logic in this plot sucks ass. like it really sucks ass. recently i heard a youtuber describe the characters as people who thought they were zhen huan but in reality were just a bunch of xia dongchuns and it really made me laugh- and guys... unfortunately, its true. some of the methods that the characters use to scheme and idk "verbally spar" honestly were just so- sigh. so ridiculous.

generally speaking, I felt that the drama didn't really have a "thread" or a central purpose, which I think is mainly a result of the build up to the ending. it failed to answer so many questions and instead made it worse by creating even more. overall, the plot kind of just felt like wading through a gigantic mud marsh with pointless confrontations and plot points popping up everywhere. the scriptwriters gave the drama a super complex framing that they just weren't able to do justice. two powerful sects and two people from completely opposing sides. one is an assassin-spy that initially (?) yearns for freedom and one is the leader of the sect that she is trying to destroy. add to that all the scheming that goes on the gong family. and a lot of childhood trauma. that's a shit-tonne of emotion and plotting to deal with which you can't realistically develop to a good quality within just 24 episodes.

I also got the vibe that the scriptwriters were scared to pin point any of their characters down for the sake of mystery, which honestly instead of making the drama better, really just made it worse. so many characters' motives were constantly doing 180s and big revelations were thrown in without any evidence of it being interlaced with the rest of the drama (I'm looking at you Big Plot Twist At End of Drama). like, the general concept was amazing, show-stopping, fantastic, never seen before, but then came the execution and it all just sort of fell apart.though I did enjoy the plot and watched the show until the end, ultimately I felt that there was honestly just too many frustrating flaws to justify it getting anything higher than 3. I loved the drama all the same though, the concept, the music and cinematography was just insane.

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘 - 7

ugh all the characters in this show where literally sO COOOLLL. they all had such distinctive characters, styles and personalities, it was amazing. honestly, literally never seen before. their tragic backstories were so so heartbreaking. while plot wasn't fantastic, the drama was pretty good at establishing and handling the characters and their emotional attachments to each other. its kinda funny to me that for a drama which marketed romance as it's main thing, the non-romantic relationships were so much better written. I loved yun weishan and yun que's relationship to their master han yasi and the relationship between xue chongzi and xue gongzi. and omg, gong ziyu's relationship to lady wuji? brought me to tears.

speaking of the romance department; I found it really hard to invest in the ships. while I approved of all the pairings and thought a romantic dynamic between them would be very interesting, it did feel like the storytelling was yet again lacking. I couldn't be sure wether I could really invest and ship the romance between shangguang qian and gong shangjue bcs both their motives were so unclear, and neither of their feelings towards one another were never really explored properly? and while I definitely understood yun weishan's attraction to gong ziyu, I didn't really get why gong ziyu loved her and risked so much for her which made some of his actions seem really silly and hard to stand by. overall, for the romance, i think I liked what it had the potential to be than what we actually got.

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖉𝖚𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 - 10

Y'ALLL. time to talk about my absolute FAVOURITE part of this drama. THE PRODUCTION. the colouring, the lighting, the sets, the cinematography?? the makeup? the music? the costume design?? THE COSTUME DESIGN?? its quite obvious that a huge amount of the budget for this drama has simply been poured into the design, like I've seriously never seen a drama shot like this ever before and it was absolutely insane (though they definitely had to cut down on the cast and extras, the whole drama has this weird kind of empty feeling for a manor that is so rich and famous and so tightly guarded, like yun weishan didn't even get a personal handmaiden) I remember seeing the trailers for this show and literally screaming- the drama itself did not disappoint. I would even go as far to say that I would watch this drama completely just for the aesthetics.

𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 - 7

in my personal opinion, no complaints about the acting, it was pretty great. although it's pretty dramatic at times and everyone speaks at the volume of a whisper, at no point in the drama did I get taken out of the show by the acting. esther yu really slayed in her new assassin role which was so fun to watch especially since most of her roles thus far have been rather cutesy and light- and her marital arts scenes ate- in fact all the martial arts scenes ate in my opinion. I think even the side characters did fairly well, it was all very nice. no complaints.

.

.

𝖇𝖔𝖓𝖚𝖘!!

favourite character(s) : 

yue gongzi ( who doesn't love an angsty angsty man? he's literally the definition of that teary wet cat meme and I love that for him ) 

xue chongzi (yet another angsty man- you can see a pattern forming lmao- his arc at the end was literally so heartbreaking. one of my favourite characters from this show fr. )

.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖜 (source mydramalist)

lead actors : esther yu, zhang linghe, lu yuxiao, cheng lei

director : guo jingming, luo luo

screenwriter : guo jingming

[batfleckgifs]

Host: Um I want to uh as we kind of wrap up here I do want to come back to AI. Jerry you mentioned it but you know Ben how did you know uh-earlier you guys weren't here we did a demonstration my colleague, Andrew Sorkin and I recreated ourselves and our voices how do you see it I mean - is it a benefit or is it a real threat? Is it possible that uh - Netflix could say you know we're going to do our own, excuse me James Bond thing out there with a bunch of actors that are completely recreated for this Market or that market I-?

Ben Affleck: A) that's not possible now. B) will it be possible the future? Highly unlikely. C) Uh-Uh Movies will be one of the last things if everything gets replaced to be replaced by ai. AI can write you excellent imit-imitative verse that sounds Elizabethan, it cannot write you Shakespeare. The function of having two actors or three or four actors in a room and the taste to discern and construct that is something that currently entirely eludes ai's capability and I think will for a meaningful period of time. What AI is going to do, is going to disintermediate the more laborious less creative uh and you know Co-more costly aspects of film making that will allow cost to be brought down, that will be lower the barrier to entry that will allow more voices to be heard, that will make it easier to for the people want to make Goodwill huntings to go out and make it. Look AI is a Craftsman at best Craftsman can learn to you know make stickly furniture by sitting down next to somebody and seeing what their technique is and imitating. That's how large video models large language model models basically work a library of vectors of meaning and Transformers that interpret context right but they're just cross-pollinating things that exist. Nothing new is created or-

Host: Not yet.

Ben Affleck: Not yet. Yeah, not yet. And-and really the - in order to do that - look Craftsman is knowing how to work (and) Art Is knowing when to stop. And I think knowing when to stop is going to be a very difficult thing for AI to learn because it's taste and also lack of consistency.lack of controls. lack of quality. AI for for this world of generative video is going to do key things more me-I wouldn't like to being in the visual effects business,they're in trouble, because what cost a lot of money is now going to cost a lot less. And it's going to hammer that space than it already is, um, and maybe it shouldn't take a thousand people to render something but it's not going to replace human beings making films. It may make your background more convincing, it can change the color of your shirt, it can fix mistakes that you've made, it can make it - you know you might be able to get two seasons of House of the Dragon in a year instead of one and if that happens according to macroeconomics in you know, uh ,cultures where there are basically Oligopolies competing what should happen is with the same demand and the same spend is they they should just make more shows which should you know you should have the same spend and now you can just watch more episodes. And eventually AI will allow you to,uh, ask for your own episode of succession where you can say I'll pay $30 and can you make me a 45 minute episode where like Kendall gets the company and runs off and has an affair with Stewie and it'll do it. And it'll be a little janky and a little bit weird but it'll know their Stats it'll know those actors and it will you know Mix-remix it in effect and it will do that. That's the value, in my view, long term of AI for consumers which is eventually - My Hope for AI is that it's an additional Revenue stream that can replace DVD which took 15 to 20% out of the economy of film making which is and-and there should be negotiated rights and-

Host: And that's the key part of it.

Ben Affleck: And the right to say if you want to - because what do people want to make 5 minute 30C Tik Tok videos where they look like The Avengers well great, you can , you know just like you used to be able to buy your Iron Man costume at the store you're going to buy your Iron Man pack and you and your buddies are going to look like Iron Man and Hawkeye like you know on Twitch that's that's what's going to really happen.

[vaalthus]

Convergence Part 1 (spoilers)

*Deep inhale*

*Long exhale*

THE TIME IS NIGH!!!

So to start,

I have to say I was utterly shocked that Jaania chose not sacrifice any more of her forces to buy her more time weave her spell but after giving it some thought it's an action that makes sense for her. As I mentioned in commenting on the Final Steps release, Jaania is finally able to see that our motivations we're always intended to strive for everyone's sake in the best of ways we knew how. As a result, she's hoping we can see and have faith in the good she's trying to bring about through her ascension.

As such, it makes no sense in her eyes to waste the lives of those who have been so loyal to her in helping her reach this moment when there's a chance their lives can be spared by us and they in turn be able to experience the world she seeks to achieve. Though those same troops would have been more than happy to lay down their lives for her so that world is brought to fruition. It's just a pity Jaania didn't give the order to retreat sooner otherwise the last of the Pelekoans might have survived.

What troubles me is the comments like these:

It's no secret to anyone that the last of Jaania's forces were those who were most loyal to her and her vision but what I find troubling here is the inevitable aftermath of these people once this conflict reaches its conclusion. As Hansa, pointed out to us in the Awakened Depths, Jaania became a beacon for those who had a simple wish to be achieved: to be free of any and all magical threats that Lore offers. However, it's not just these soldiers that want that, it's the nobles, the farmers, the little guys that have been supporting the Rose all these years across Greenguard and likely still do, sure that number has definitely taken a dive since the start of Book 3 but I doubt it's still insignificant. All of those people will soon find their dreams and the person who was meant to bring back a sense of uninterrupted peace in their lives is about to be dashed. We can only hope their response to this reality is constructive as opposed to the opposite.

What I've been saying all along folks :3

Miss me with that "we're not so different you and I" speech.

I like to think this is the Hero taking all they've learned about the ability to make choices in the Maleurous saga and is just throwing that much needed wisdom back at Jaania who feels the need to instill order in the world.

This comment is interesting to me because we have seen the Hero effectively try and be everywhere all at once for eveyone's sake, quite almost obsessively I might add, and I feel if Jaania hadn't recently just had a change of heart on her perspective on them, and taken the time to analyze the Hero's deal, she might have been able to more strongly appeal to their need, their desperation, in protecting everyone they can. Not that it would work either way, the Hero's distrust and deep-rooted fear of her, as seen in Fear, showed that getting us on her side was simply not possible.

If she was more predatory, of course, she would have used that aspect against us as every other villain that attacks our psyche has done before. A neat contrast here is what I'm pointing out.

*sigh* Every single new questionable scene with this woman continues to force me to find comfort in the fact that her and the other Magesters too dependent on the Mana Core Fragment will be dead eventually thanks to Roirr's actions. I truly want to believe there's a positive future for the Shapeless Empire that doesn't involve exploiting its citizens through this agreed upon cycle without violence but the rotting hands of the past never want to let go of control easily.

YOU GAVE THEM TRAUMA AND WEREN'T EVEN SORRY!!!

Okay technically this right here is the more sensible reasoning, but I stand by what I said! What I like most in this scene is that we simply reaffirm what we've been trying to tell her since this whole mess started with her organization. Everything we bring up about the harm the Rose has done thus far has been consistent and aren't negated by the fact that Jaania, at heart, wants to do what she believes is best for everyone's sake.

What I love even more however is how she averts her eyes the moment we bring up Akanthus because she knows she can't even reasonably, or delusionally for that matter, deny she has made a grave error in judgement in allowing Akanthus' abuses on, well, basically everyone, and soon everything, in his wake. It's that "Yeah, ya got me there look" that just sends warm feelings down my spine.

Now if you told me at the start of this saga Jaania was going to offer us a bargain to effectively play as the puppeteer god of fate alongside her, I definitely would have called you insane. It's moment I'm sure comes as a complete shock to everyone, it certainly did to me anyway. And honestly why wouldn't it? It's one thing to ask us to stand down and simply allow her to achieve apotheosis but it's a completely different matter to propose to come and play god. But it's one that sadly makes all too much sense.

Jaania has admitted that she has made terrible mistakes and has been too much of an imperfect being in her quest to achieve peace and prosperity for Lore. So better way to accommodate for her ham-fisted actions and judgement so far then to have someone like the Hero to hopefully keep her worse tendencies in check. As opposed to someone like Akanthus or Zadd who would, in all likelihood, make things worse had they been afforded the opportunity. There's another reason I believe she makes this offer but I'll get to that later.

Nothing else to say here beyond epic callback!

Out of all the Hero's moments in this quest, I believe this is where their experiences throughout the Maleurous saga shines through the brightest.

In a way, you could argue that, in spite of the obvious chaos that will come with it, Jaania's plan is to instill an eternal order, a Destiny, upon Lore itself, one in which she will insists never ends as she dictates. Yet the Hero knows the importance of others being able to decide the paths they choose to walk, I'd argue they've known that since Calamity, without some transcendental hand to yank them in another direction against their own will. So they certainly would not agree to be the one to dictate the fate of all those that live on Lore let alone allow someone as misguided as Jaania to do it.

Okay, I think we all knew that the void pearl was too easy a solution to deal with Akanthus and was likely not going to work but there's something absolutely amusing about Hesperrhodos being used a shield to be sent to the Void and then teleport immediately back to Lore without issue since, ya know, Elemental Spirits can just do that at any time. Hell I at least would have thought that thing would have let a monster through or something. The downside to seeing Zvezdana looking completely slack-jawed after these events unfolded is the fact that we still don't have a damned plan to take Akanthus out of commission...so yeah.

I have to say I love this final appeal Jaania gives to the trio of combatants because it shows a few things. First, that she still fails to understand that her organization was really only giving the illusion of peace to all those the dwelt within range of the Rose's reach and even then only really through the lens of normal humans. Second, it displays that she never truly had a proper grasp on the relationship she fostered with those she worked alongside. Lastly, she places too much hope that wanting the same things is not the same as agreeing ideologically how get those things.

Which inevitably leads to one option: Violence

I have waited 12. long. years. for this very moment. 12 years spent waiting since we broke free from that ice cap. 8 years I waited since from the first time we saw her again in Timelines. 7 years since the original Gala and our spat. 4 years since dealing with the second rift and I had a deeper appreciation for her mental state which motivates her.

And now I am finally here to fight Jaania one on one. So, you best believe I fought alone to prove which of us was could beat the other!

The following boss fight that ensues is perhaps one of the best thematic story fights in the entire game at this point, as it should be for the antagonist that is the face for this entire saga. I'm quite pleased that devs designed her to be difficult, hell I'm even glad that couldn't easily soul gambit my way out of this one.

In terms of mechanics, it's everything you could expect, Jaania does everything she can to debuff us and each time she fails and has her health cut down in bulk she commands even more strength to take us down, even attempting to go for the old freeze'em solid trick and when that doesn't draw any purchase thanks to Aegis she relies on her new found soul weaving arts to dispatch us. All the while we deal with the tragic music in the background tugging at the heart strings for a conflict that should have been avoided.

How far we've come since the Doom Amulet was our first real challenge in-game for year, eh?

And can I say how amusing it is that Jaania trapping us in ice is something that could only work once? Aegis apparently always had the means of unfreezing, he simply couldn't due to Draco keeping everyone away from where we were placed. So, with him already being close by to protect our soul from going poof, there's no way he's going to let us get trapped again. Even more amusing is to think about how Jaania is basically using the old ice soul weaver meta to take us on.

But after all of that we prove in the end, with or without aid, to be stronger than Jaania, at least in this exact moment.

It's a pity though that the moment does not last as expected Jaania will not let it end without fighting at her full potential.

This right here is the reason I believe Jaania made her initial proposal to us and why I bring up the Maleurous saga. For me at least, it's easy to see the similarities between Jaania and Notha. Both are exceptionally powerful accomplished mages that desperately sought out to change a world that gave them deep rooted traumas that they wished to change that world so that the suffering they experienced could not continue. However, where Notha wanted to bring about chaos to change the order of the world; Jaania is hellbent on imposing order on the chaos the world of Lore and its magic offers its inhabitants. Furthermore, I suspect, unlike Notha, that Jaania cannot bring herself to reconcile with the trauma magic has placed on her life and the people she cared about. Most defining of all though, which will likely be her downfall, is her need to be in control of everything so that she or anyone else might never hurt again.

Antagonists like Jaania are always left in a hard spot. They seek to rid the world of suffering and conflict forever and while that is a noble desire they fail to realize how unfortunately intrinsic those things are to existence. Thusly they bang their heads on a wall until they're bloodied and broken only for that dream they longed for to dissipate before their very eyes.

And so, her last option is to go full synchronization. I can't guess what happens next here with Jaania. Judging by the increased streaks of white in her hair, her soul is continuing to unravel though I think she's in no worse of a state than Tomix was when he was at the end. I was originally going to say synchronizing with a corrupt spirit created through forbidden magic would spell instant catastrophe for Jaania but then I remembered Aspar was created through the same means, although he was just a fragment, so she might pull off the effect with little issue.

I suppose we must simply wait and see what becomes of our troublesome Arch Magus and where the winds will turn for her ambitions.

And of course, there's still this asshole and the doom device.

[llaberration]

Coyne's Chronicles: Shadow Over Yfiria- Chapter 32

Content Warning!

This chapter is darker, and covers some fairly troubling moments and mentalities from the characters. Some of the discussions contained within may be distressing, if you're already in a sensitive or emotional mood it might not help that.

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Coyne grunted as he heaved himself deeper into the structure, barely able to squeeze his skinny frame through some of the narrow gaps and spaces left by the haphazard construction. The only saving grace thus far was that nothing seemed to be actively using the crevices and tunnels to navigate the hive other than him. Whatever way in and out the bog creatures were utilising had to lie below the liquid level of the mire, because these tunnels were not used at all. As far as Coyne could tell from the amount of dust and crumbling stone on the walls of the spaces he was navigating, he was the first living thing to pass through here. That gave him some limited sense of safety in his search, but the increasingly loud sounds echoing through the broken stone crevices were swiftly washing that away.

What he could hear sounded... wet. Wet and slimy and strange. He tried to move as silently as he could, as the noises he was hearing most certainly were not coming from natural dripping and trickling in the cave-like environment. This sounded like large things were moving through liquid somewhere nearby. Occasionally there would be a grunting growling sound, or even a howl, vocalisations that sounded strained and uncomfortable. As though that which made them was not quite able to do so without great effort. Pausing for breath, he let a hand rest quietly over the shape of the egg, running over the incantation in his head that Fez had given him to utilise it. He could probably get away with it now and still expect it to be effective but he needed to be sure. Fez had been clear. With their one and only shot at this, they had to make certain. He had to find the centre of the hive first, no matter how much extra time it took, he had to make sure.

He continued on his way, trying to keep himself firmly focused on the task and not on what was going on in the outside world that now felt so far away. He had to prioritise his feelings right now, and in order to help his friends, his main job was to finish his current task. He felt like he had been in the tunnels for hours when he spotted a glimmer of light ahead, creeping up a crevice in the stonework. He slowed, and crept with delicate care the last few feet to the opening that was releasing a sickly green glow. He spread himself out along the floor to ensure he got the safest position as he peered through what appeared to have once been the corner of a doorframe, into the space below, seeking the source of the light.

His view was somewhat limited by the smallness of the opening, but what it revealed to him was informative enough.

He was over a massive cavern inside the hive, filled with a lake of slime up to what he assumed was ground level. The liquid was thick and green, but transparent, so he could see that it was deep, very deep. He couldn't see the bottom, it merely descended into greenish blackness as far down as the light could penetrate. He could not see the source of the light, even by straining to one side, he could not make out what was generating the green glow, the shattered frame blocking his sight. None of that was what held his attention though. What drew the eye was the many shifting, moving shapes in the slime.

They were... like dragons, in a sense. Between twenty and forty feet long, with four legs, and what seemed to be half-formed or vestigial wing bases. They weren't right though. Their bodies were misshapen, missing parts or entire sides of flesh, showing bone and organ below. Even where the limbs were present on their bodies, they were often too small or twisted to one side in a way that implied the joints weren't in the right place. It almost looked as though the liquid was digesting them, in some places he could see organ material floating all but outside their body cavities. Their bones seemed soft, misshapen, bending in odd positions. One in particular that raised its head above the surface, Coyne saw its lower jaw bending downwards with the weight of its irregular, sharp teeth. But they did not seem to be in pain. The creatures moved lazily around in the liquid, using their weak limbs to propel themselves around little by little, not going anywhere, just shifting.

Straining his angle to try and see more, Coyne realised there was a pile of bones and dusty matter spilling in through an opening in one of the walls down there. At the bottom of the heap, a barely formed shape was picking at the bones. It didn't even yet have back legs, just a spindly front set that lacked feet. It was basically just a neck, shoulders, and a skull-like, skinless head with hollow eye sockets. After watching for a long moment, Coyne realised the thing was trying to build itself out of the pile of plagued parts and bones, and it began to dawn on him why there had been relatively few infected around, at least when he calculated the population of the city, and the amount of wildlife the plague had likely consumed. It wasn't changing and sending out infected with everything that it turned. Most of them had been sent here, for their matter to be repurposed into... whatever these were.

Fake dragons.

Horrible, malformed dragons, from the mind of something vile.

Dragons had created the plague and now the plague had created dragons. That sort of logic was beyond Coyne's capability to reason. But perhaps that was what it had always been designed to do, recreate the creatures that created it, mirror them, and use them to destroy. There were not many land and air predators that could outmatch a dragon so if it did manage to make these constructs viable outside of liquid then its forces could be made unbeatable.

Clearly the infected that it sent out into the land were actually looking to just infect more things to come here for this purpose. No wonder the spread had been so slow. It had been here for a century, preparing for, and then executing this plan. They had entirely misunderstood the goal of the plague. It was still spreading to destroy... it was just coming up with a more dangerous way to do it.

Coyne withdrew from the hole, pausing to consider whether this was the right place to do it. He would prefer to have a larger opening into the space, and he had spotted many holes leading into the chamber that looked larger than the one he had found. He decided to try and locate something a little better. He didn't want to half ass this. Not having come this far. If anything had happened to his friends and he messed up what this had all been for, he'd feel a real fool for the short time they all had left to live at that point.

Heric dove into the lake from a greater height that he normally would have done. The first body of water he had seen from the spot he had taken off, as soon as they were off the bog. He had snatched up the Ancient, and Trevor had caught on quickly, turning back to his portable, human size. As the ground at the edge of the bog had started to rupture with their pursuers, he had grabbed the other mage and taken off, flying at full sprint-speed, turning and rolling in the air to throw off any possible quill shots, but their enemies hadn't had a chance to take aim, and he had flown clear of their range. Once well away, he had carried on without hesitation towards the first lake he could see outside the infected land. He dropped the humans in the shallows, and dove into the centre himself, shaking his body under the water, causing waves on the lake's surface as he twisted and writhed beneath, trying to get rid of anything infectious still on his body and scales.

At the edge of the lake, Alan was doing the same, frantically removing his mask and immersing himself in the water, he splashed about, discarding his boots altogether. Fortunately, the water seemed to dissolve the plagued mud almost immediately, leaving him looking almost as though he had never gone through the bog at all. He surfaced with a gasp, checking himself over thoroughly, and turning in place to see if he could see what the others were doing.

Trevor was sitting in the water silently, holding his knees, not visibly making an effort to clean himself. His long, curly hair was dripping water down his face, and he was staring coldly at the lake in front of him.

“Trevor!” Alan splashed over to the man, giving him a heavy shove to knock him into the water properly. “Get yourself clean! What're you thinking?!”

The druid flailed in surprise, going under the surface for a moment before coming back up, pushing at the man, “Stop that! There's no POINT!”

“No point... what do you...” Alan went still as he saw the druid stand up, reaching to the side of his robe and pulling it open to show an ugly semi-circle of tears and perforations in the man's flesh. “You...” he stared at it, trying to understand as he saw diluted blood dripping from the wound, soaking into the robe material.

“I got bit,” said Trevor, “Not scraped, not clawed, bitten.”

“We might have got to the lake in time... the water might have...”

Trevor dropped his head to the side, giving the mage a cold 'Do you think I'm an idiot?' stare. “If water could cure a bite that good, nobody would ever get infected.”

“But... you... when did?”

“It doesn't matter,” said the druid, closing his robe with a sigh. He had taken the bite in his snake form while freeing Alan, and there was no point making the mage live with that guilt. “It's too late.”

“What if Coyne hatches the egg? That might cure you if you're not turned...”

“It might. Might kill me instead,” he shook his head, overwhelmed, and still processing for himself.

Heric sloshed out of the water beside them suddenly, shaking himself, dousing them, “You both alright?”

“Trevor got bitten...” said Alan, pointing.

Heric stared at the druid for a moment, silent other than the dripping. “I'm... sorry. I have to go back. We lost Iewan... I have to search for him...”

“Can you take us somewhere first?” asked Trevor, “Somewhere high up on route, you don't have to go far... I just want to... watch for Coyne hatching the egg.”

Heric hesitated. He wanted to hurry, he'd have said no, but if Trevor had been bitten, he could hardly refuse. “Alright,” he said, awkwardly. “Fez and I were using a rocky outcropping not far from here to spy on the hive. We'll go there.” He flapped his wings, taking off and grabbing the two gently.

It was a short flight, the dragon was hurrying, his wings beating quickly as he flew rather than obliging the air currents as he usually would. After only a few minutes, he slowed, gliding down to a granite Tor on the top of a hill, and gently set the two down. “I have go go,” he said, “Will you be okay?”

“We'll manage,” said Trevor, “Go, find Iewan.” He watched as the huge blue form took off, then looked around, taking a deep breath of the clean air, enjoying how sweet it smelled after the bog. Throwing his mass of hair out of his eyes, he went to the edge of the tor, looking out at the hive, which stood as imposing as ever at the centre of the dead land. “Nice view,” he commented softly.

“Trevor... why aren't you... doing something?” Alan stood behind him, his shoulders tense and his face pinched with worry. “Shouting? Being angry? You're always angry...”

“Because shouting isn't going to help and...” he hesitated a moment, then just came out with the words on his mind. “I don't think dying will be so bad,” his tone were already a little dry, as though the druid's throat was starting to get a little sore. “Honestly. I could use the peace.”

“Stop it, you're not allowed to die. You're going to be fine. The egg is going to hatch and you're going to be cured,” snipped Alan.

“Or turned to dust. We don't know. It's okay though. At least I got to experience freedom for a little bit, find out a bit more about the world. That there's some good in it that the college hasn't snuffed out.”

“Stop. You're not going to die.”

“It's okay. I'm not upset. We did what we set out to do.” Trevor gave Alan an almost hopeful little smile. “We did that. I mean... all we did was run away but... it gave Coyne a distraction at least.”

“No. It's not okay. You're not allowed to die yet.”

“Oh it's not yet... I estimate I've got about... forty minutes left?” he gave a rough cough. “Maybe an hour or two? I wonder what it'll look like... when the egg hatches. The light,” he looked out over the landscape again, and he gently, carefully set himself down to sit on the edge of the tor.

Alan's breath hitched as he tried to reply, and he had to try a few times to construct the words. “Stop it. I can't. I don't want to hear you talk like that.”

“It's not like you're going to be alone. You have Coyne, Fez...”

“I don't want just them. I want you.”

The druid gave a dry smile, “Look at you. Always Mr Demanding. Got what he wanted as a kid. Well. You can stamp your feet all you like, this isn't something your daddy can buy you out of this time.”

Alan's face pinched in an ugly combination of frustrated tears and sheer irritation. “Stop it. Can't you stop being sarcastic for five seconds, even now?!”

Trevor gave an immense, self-satisfied smile, making his teeth look overly white against his lightly greying skin. “Not a chance. I will leave this world wearing a sneer you wait and see.”

Alan managed a glare, though it was with far more sadness than anger. “You aren't allowed to,” he repeated.

“You can forbid it all you like, but it's not in your hands. So why don't you sit down here on this nice comfortable rock with me, and wait to see what the light looks like?”

“That's what you're going to do?”

“That's what I'm going to do.”

“Just that?”

“What else would you have me do? Cry? Run about screaming? No. I'm already tired, and what will it help? I've weathered enough indignity in my life. Done a lot of trying to save my skin. I'm going to finally enjoy a little peace and quiet while I can. Now. Will you join me?”

Alan gestured wildly for a moment before his hands dropped to his sides, and he fell into a sitting position beside the druid, exhausted and all out of arguments. “If you survive this I'm going to kill you.”

Trevor gave a slightly ghoulish grin, “I don't think that's unreasonable. Make sure it's something dramatic eh?”

“Oh stop that. Can't we just have a serious conversation?”

“Depends. Do you want to talk about what's happening to me? In which case no.”

“What if I agree to talk about something else? Could we have a serious conversation about anything at all?”

Trevor gave a little bit of a snort, “If you won't leave me in peace, sure. What would you like to talk about?”

“Why don't you tell me about something I know nothing about. Why don't you tell me what it's like to be an animal?”

“Wait... really?” The druid looked puzzled. “Why?”

“So I can pretend for a little longer that this... isn't happening?”

“Will it shut you up if I agree?” there wasn't any venom in the words any more, the man seemed genuinely surprised at Alan's persistence.

“I can do that. If you promise to keep talking to me.”

“If that's what it takes,” the druid worked to sit a little more upright, and cleared his dry throat before starting to talk. “Being a rabbit, is the absolute fucking worst, and let me tell you why...”

When Coyne finally found the perfect position in a collapsing stone window frame, he was closer to the surface of the liquid, much lower down than before. He also had a somewhat better view of the area. The green glow that illuminated it was actually coming from a tunnel that lead out of the chamber. It was pulsing gently, almost organically, but even when he risked leaning out a little, he couldn't see the source. He wondered if he should continue his search, maybe find out what it was, but he felt that this was as central in the hive that he was going to get without risking getting caught. The elders had said the centre of the hive, and this was the centre. By trying to take more time, he was only causing unnecessary risk.

He moved back a few feet, to conceal himself from the creatures sloshing around in the slime below, and pressed his hands gently to his middle. “I hope you've rested long enough... I wish it could be longer but... this world is in danger and we need you.”

He drew a slow breath, taking in his surroundings for a moment or two longer, making sure he remembered the incantation exactly. It was a strange, otherworldly place. No sound from the outside world made it through to the chamber where the monsters were forming. They splashed about from time to time, letting out their moaning, gurgling cries at each other. He shifted a little in place to peep at the creatures, frowning. Their bodies looked so wrong... In attempting to create life, the plague had succeeded, but giving that life a shape was much harder for it.

He wished he knew that his friends had all managed to escape. If he knew they were safely hiding somewhere waiting, he could focus a lot more easily. But no... he had only his hope they had made it out, and his trust in Fez to protect everyone.

He drew his focus inside, closing his eyes. He had to get this right and stop tormenting himself. He ran over the words the dragon had taught him, practising the pronunciations silently with his mouth. He was unfamiliar with the language, as it was that strange, guttural tongue that the dragons spoke among each other, but Fez had used a little magic to ensure it was precisely correct in his memory. He knew it and he was ready. Drawing a breath, he calmed himself and began to speak. The words were quiet, not wishing to draw attention from the creatures below, reciting his way through a long verse of thick, awkward syllables and forcing his tongue into the difficult shapes required for each sound. When he finished, and ended by calling Ridgar's name as softly as he could, he went still, looking expectantly at himself. Had the dragon not heard him? He blinked as he remembered Fez had told him not to use the nickname for the elder, and fished about for the full, real name. “Oridingeon,” he finished instead, daring to go a little louder. He looked at himself again, a little expectant, raising an eyebrow. He gently drummed a couple of fingers on his belly, as if knocking on a door. At first there was no response, then, as he was starting to worry he had goofed the incantation, he felt a sharp little 'tap.' Initially, he thought it had come from nearby, a stone clacking off the crumbling ceiling or something like that, but when it came again, he realised it was within him. Then he spotted a soft glowing from beneath his shirt. He blinked, lifting it, shocked as he saw the bright outline of the egg, and an even brighter line of a crack down the side of it. It was happening. He huddled close around the thing, bundling his cloak around his body to hide the light until it was ready.

Heric swirled towards the edge of the bog, his good eye searching the ground for any sign of life. He didn't go over the mire itself, still well aware that he did not want a series of quill related piercings. He was troubled by leaving the mages the way he had but his allegiance to Iewan was stronger, and he needed to know what had happened to the man. How he planned to achieve that he wasn't even sure. He was dizzy, and his ears were still ringing from the impact against his head earlier, but he couldn't leave things the way they were.

As he circled, he spotted a small, black shape running across the landscape, just crossing the end of the bog and onto solid ground. It was Fez, the slender shape, even size-shifted like he was, was unmistakeable. However, the reason for his swift movement was a lot more visible.

Thumping after him in an uncoordinated, hump-backed sprint, was one of the creatures. It had clearly been chasing for a while, because most of the muck of the mire had been shaken off. It was only a few feet behind Fez, but did not seem to be gaining any ground, if anything it looked to be following rather than chasing. He growled, circling closer, waiting until he saw they were both firmly off the blanket bog before he moved, angling his wings and tucking them to dive through the sky, front legs extending as he closed in. He spread his wings at the last second to stop himself crashing and just thudded hard into Fez's pursuer instead, knocking it down with a surprised shriek.

Fez spun around to look up at him as the Sea dragon landed properly, dropping his weight onto the creature to hold it still. “Heric wait! It's not what it looks like!”

Heric, who had been preparing to bury his claws in the creature, blinked, raising his head to look at Fez questioningly.

Fez, a little taken back by the bruised, slashed face and damaged eye of his friend, stuttered a little before getting his voice back, “That's not one of them...”

“What are you talking about? LOOK at it.”

“I know, but that's not one of them. It's Iewan.”

“What?” the Sea dragon's eyes narrowed, his claws shifting on the creature's wriggling form. “Explain.”

Coyne grimaced a little at the sensation of something building, even his limited magical sense feeling overwhelmed as he felt this incredible power starting to build. It can't have been more than a few moments, but it felt like a long delay before after a little more more tapping and movement, and the egg finally imploded within him. Coyne had time to stand, draw open his cloak and close his eyes as the most incredible light he had ever seen or felt flooded him. It felt like the sun. Not burning but like lying out on a hot summer day, warm grass behind you, bright sun in front. An incredible sensation of love and healing passed through him in waves, numbing him to all other sounds and sensations. It seemed to go on for hours, and he felt no more fear, no exhaustion or discomfort. He felt whole, and as though he could hug the life out of every living thing on the land for sheer joy. Not just that alone though... he felt a tremendous power, an incredible amount of energy centred within him, as though he could fight a god right now and win.

When it faded, he did actually find himself hugging the rock, holding on for dear life. He blinked slowly back to consciousness. Around him... there was silence. The rocks, once dirty and dark looked... clean, smoother. He peeped out of his crevice, and down below, where there had been a filthy green pit of darkness and vile, suffering aberrations... there was nothing. A pool of absolutely clear water lay below him, settled in a neat bowl of clean, grey stone. A merry little trickling sound drew his eye to the roof, where a small waterfall was pouring down into the centre of the cave, lit by a beam of outside light. It was the most tranquil thing he had ever seen and for a long moment, still flooded with 'love' feelings, he just stared at it.

A moment or two later, his ears woke up, and he became aware of a high mewling sound, and a wriggling in his belly. He gasped, clutching himself, stroking and pressing, “Shhhhh,” he said, “Hush now, it's okay, you're alright, welcome back to the world,” he knew Ridgar didn't have any memories yet, but a soothing tone seemed to help, and the creature nuzzled and pushed at him, still making a high pitched wailing noise. “I know I know, you're hungry huh? I don't have anything for you yet but if you wait a little, I'll get you something,” he leaned out of the crevice, and lowered himself cautiously, looking around for signs of trouble... but the place was empty, devoid of all plague and evil. He dropped onto a stone further down towards the water, looking around. Everything felt so clean now... he needed to get outside and find out whether it had truly worked... but how to do that? He peered into the crystal clear pool of water, seeing that down at the bottom he could see a flicker of light. Perhaps it connected to the outside world? Could he swim down to get out?

He was about to dive into the water when he heard a groan. A low, hollow, pained sound that started as a heavy creaking noise, and slowly built until it was unmistakeably a vocalisation. He frowned, hearing a thudding as something enormous moved, causing dust and small stones to clatter from the roof above them. Sensing a new, unknown danger, the mimic moved swiftly, diving into the water and swimming down with broad, confident strokes. He still felt an incredible power lurking inside him, as though he had been fed the wealth of seven kingdoms in the last four minutes and it had already had time to take effect... he wondered what he could do with this.

But there was no time. As he swam quickly downwards, he heard a much louder vibration through the water, and a massive rock plunged violently past him, followed by a horde more. Something up there was doing a lot of damage to the remaining structure of the hive. What on earth had the magic not managed to cleanse? What was that strong? It had worked last time, at least according to Jintintaska it had... but that had been the retelling of a legendary story. Perhaps there had been more to it? Or worse, this time the plague had had time to grow stronger.

Ignoring the slightly concerned wriggles in his belly, Coyne pushed on faster, not keen on getting hit by a falling rock. He didn't need to breathe but the hatchling inside him did, so being pinned at the bottom of a lake would be problematic.

As he reached the bottom of the space, he saw out into the world through a wide opening, and decided he had been right. There was no sign of the mire and its creatures, what lay outside was a lake, a huge one. Neatly bowl shaped, it looked like the whole blanket bog had been scooped out of the land and replaced with a clean stone basin, filled with almost completely clear water.

He kicked off the bottom and propelled himself out into the expanse of the lake, getting out of range of the falling rocks, and swimming upwards swiftly, eager to get a view of what was going on.

The lake was deep, it took time for him to reach the surface, especially as he was aiming to move outwards from the hive at the same time, gain a little distance from whatever was causing all that noise.

He turned to look back before he surfaced, seeing the ugly shape of the hive extending up from the bed of the lake. Even the purification hadn't been able to make it palatable to look at... it was still a jagged obelisk of broken building parts. It looked a lot cleaner now, but it still stood as a monument to the city that had, at one time, been here. He surfaced with a little care for subtlety, not entirely certain that everything that had been down here was gone. There was no immediate danger above the surface, but time had passed, and evening was starting to dim the sky. From the hive was coming a persistent, now angry groaning roar, and a loud crashing was shaking debris from every side. Coyne began to swim backwards, away from the hive in careful, quiet movements, eyes fixed on the shuddering structure. Whatever was in there, it was furious, and it had been strong enough that the egg had not been enough to kill it.

Wondering what their next possible move might be if they had failed, Coyne continued to back up until he felt something brush his leg. He let out an involuntary yelp, kicking out, and turning to look in the water, but the darkening sky made it hard to be certain what he was seeing.

It was in the brief moment that he was looking down that a massive 'CRACK' sounded out across the landscape, echoing across the surface of the water and causing the mimic's head to snap upwards to look at the hive. His eyes widened as he saw the entire top half of the structure splitting, splintering apart in a hundred different directions, massive chunks of stone and broken building splashing into the water as a truly gargantuan black shape began to rise from the ruins of the broken structure.

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[phywreks]

the end of rain world

written on 10/1/24, lightly edited 10/23

(vague spoilers for the end of the video game rain world)

the ending of rain world has been fucking with me. it’s deconstructed the patch of stability i spent a big chunk of my summer building for myself.

the night i finished rain world, i walked a friend home. she hadn't been doing great- her usual routines for emotional regulation weren't working, her creative work often more frustrating than fulfilling, stuck at a point of being unable to match her skillset to her aesthetic tastes. she talked, i listened, i tried to ask helpful questions, i stumbled over my own words, i lost cohesion. i felt like i'd maybe managed to distract her from a spiral, if only through confusion. we lingered for a while outside her building. we hugged good night.

i felt like i'd failed her. this chance i had to be there for someone important to me, to help them, to offer a lifeline, and all i could think to do was cry and say i’m sorry i can’t give you better advice but i care about you. 

so i quietly sobbed my way home. i stumbled into playing rain world at 3am because i was grasping for more of the kind of meaning and joy and love for its design, grasping for the emotional state playing rain world had come to embody- escaping and spending time with this friend i felt like i'd failed. i finished it. i spent half an hour climbing through tunnels and temples and threw myself into the golden void. the culmination of a journey only possible through acts of random generosity from pebbles, the void worm, this friend. all of this generosity, and the thing it was leading towards was what? suicide? ending the cycle? becoming a big worm and swimming in the void with the other big worms? seeing myself and dozens of my other selves who have all died eventually make it to the end, escape the mortal plane, and leave behind a world destroyed, ravaged, full of suffering?

art reflects us. it shows us, without us realizing, who we are. what we believe. the feelings we stuff away. i get from rain world an indictment of the concept of afterlives. they are a technology, a concept we invented in pursuit of how it might enhance our ability to live in this world here and now. this is all there is. despite this goal of creating a philosophically airtight seal on motivation, a framework that tells us that at all times, the best thing we can do is to continue living and giving everything we have to the world because otherwise there will be nothing that remains of us when we die. 

this framework is not enough. in rain world (this is my understanding of the world of the game after a single playthrough, i’ve certainly got substantial parts of this wrong and am thus filling in the gaps), the ancients live deep spiritual lives which connect themselves to the world and create a desire to protect it, to live in harmony with it. their desire to escape the cycle of death and rebirth which traps all living creatures trumps their desire to make life worth living for those creatures, though. they construct artificial intelligences who require a resource load so intense that it completely transforms all ecosystems on the planet. the surface of the world is now pelted by rainstorms so intense they kill anything not able to find shelter. they move above the clouds, away from the danger, and ramp up their consumption even more.

rain world says that no matter what we say, believe, how we cloak our beliefs, how we justify our actions, we’re still acting without a plan for long term sustainability for those who live here. now.

i woke up after going to sleep with all of this rolling around in my head, sobbing silently so as to not wake up my two roommates, and spent three hours in bed staring at the atrocities of the world. algorithms designed to rewire your behaviour so they’re the first thing you see in the morning dominate most of us. they curate what you see to maximize the amount of attention you give them. i went to sleep emotionally raw, scared, unsure of my ability to maintain faith that humanity will survive the hell we’re constructing for ourselves out of our home. i woke up confronted with damning evidence that hell must be what we’re searching for. why else would we ruin the climate? escalate the frequency of environmental disaster to the point that towns flood monthly? to the point that millions lose their homes every year? 

reckoning with reality inevitably drives us insane. the only way to remain productive, to climb up in society and gain power, is to conform, in the depths of your soul, to the metrics established by those in power before you. 

massive societal shifts happen not as a reaction to injustice, but as a power move from those just under the top, to put themselves on top.

i don’t want to kill myself. i don’t want to live. i want all of us to be free from the threat of death if we aren’t able to work. i want us to be able to live good lives for the simple fact of our humanity. i want all creatures to be able to live good lives for the simple fact of their existence. i want beauty to flourish. 

wealth accumulation, rent seeking, capitalism, techno-feudalism, whatever you want to call it. it preys on our fulfillment at seeing lines go up. it conveys power to those of us most capable at making lines go up.

a metric can never capture goodness, or beauty. there is no metric which, on its own, is sufficient to allow universal morality to hinge upon its continual increasing. the world, the universe as we live in it and know it, is a constant flux, it breathes: expanding, contracting, always. since i was young, i’ve never believed in a god, but the idea of the expanding and contracting of the universe as analogous to the breathing lungs of a god as being the reality we live has been inescapable.

i have nothing else but this angst, currently. 

everything is insufficient, so far. no process, no belief, all eventually run up against a situation where they prove insufficient at providing an answer, or worse, provide an answer which causes pain. 

from this, do we maintain the path, forever carrying the weight that at any point it may cause us to hurt ourselves or others, or do we jump to a new path? do we trudge through as many disparate paths as possible, hoping that if we’ve devoted ourselves to the construction of wide webs of heuristic knowledge, we’ll be able to find connecting patterns across them all which we can give to others. that we can increase the possibility space of human thought, action, possibility, and reach something better than this?

do we continue to love, despite the fact that sharing our most intimate fears, desires, embarrassments, leaves us necessarily vulnerable to having those secrets break containment in a moment of carelessness on the part of our beloved? 

of course we do. my instinct is to try and justify the act of loving from first principles. i do not want to do that today, so instead i'll just say that we should love to understand each other. we should give ourselves not just to the euphoria of knowing and being known, but also to the inevitability of crushing pains and betrayals, so we may know and comfort others. experience everything, so you may empathize with everyone.

living is not conscious-reminiscence is. i believe this, now. i may not believe this tomorrow. belief is a shaky thing right now. 

i’ve often dreamed of living forever. free from the restrictions of time, i escape into the fantasy of being able to study to my heart’s content. i want to spend my days reading, thinking, writing, and being good to the people in my life. nothing else really matters to me, at this point. even making “good” art is something i’ve sort of given up on. i’ll keep making stuff until i die, but i can’t care if it’s good. i don’t control whether or not it’s good. the process of creation necessitates that my relationship to my own work isolates me from those who experience it. i can never experience it how they can.

i won't live forever. i'll live imperfectly, die imperfectly, and hopefully contribute something to this world in a way which honors the grace i have been given, while doing my best to give that same grace to others.

anyhow, play rain world if you get the chance. it gave me this, it'll give you something Else.

[largesunglasses]

My appointment with my primary went ok. My blood pressure is still kind of borderline high of where she wants it. I told her I'd be down for adding to what I take and she said she wasn't that concerned but wanted to use this other machine. Pretty much the nurse comes in and hooks me up and leaves. It counts down from five minutes then takes my blood pressure three times and gets an average the first one was 105/78 then 95/ I can't remember. Then the nurse came back in as the third one was happening and it got an error. Those numbers were way lower than anything I ever see so we knew we couldn't trust it. My TSH(I think) levels were almost double the high end of the normal range so she upped my levothyroxine. I go back in six weeks to check my thyroid again and recheck the blood pressure. She didn't say anything about my weight which I was dreading especially since I have my period. Oh and I got my flu shot so that was great.

Then later I had a dentist appointment and I thought I only had two cavities to fill but I have four. They did two that were together today. I got there wicked early because I have to pass a few schools and there's always construction going on. I just sat in the car and then went in like 1:48 for my appointment at 2. They had a sign on the door that said be back at 2 so I sat in the lobby then 3 other people showed up. I didn't even think the office had that many chairs but it's a new place for me and I hadn't been in the second room that had like 5 chairs. The lady next to me I could tell was an emergency squeeze in appointment. They didn't come and numb me until 2:35 and didn't start working on me until after 3. It was fine I had nowhere to be and I knew the lady was in pain and heard her say they were leaving for Disney Saturday. The fillings took less time than I thought they would and the dentist was really nice. When she looked at my medical history and saw I was allergic to coconut she asked if it was all coconut and I said yes but I wouldn't die but since so many things have coconut oil in it I always just put it to be cautious. She legit felt bad for me that I can't have it and I agreed because Kmart used to have these toasted coconut marshmallows and I would almost risk my life to have one now. Anyways she was nice the fillings were fast and I was home earlier than I thought I was going to be and it was only $82. I was expecting $200. The root canal next week is about $800 and that's not the crown. I jokingly told the kids they weren't getting Christmas gifts this year and they both said they don't want anything. I wanted a concert again but idk if I'll be able to afford it/find something we all like.

Anyways that was a big long ramble about nothing anyone cares about but it felt good to write it out.

[skye107]

MHA fanfic: bloody love

(constructive criticism welcomed)

Your pov:

You weren't all that surprised when you fell for shoto todoroki, afterall, he's perfect, strong, caring, beautiful, and adorably dense. You'd first noticed how you felt shortly after the sports festival, when he first showed how kind he could truly be, especially when he opened up to you. As his first friend (except izuku), you knew a lot about him, about his upbringing, and honestly, that just made your feelings stronger.

By the time of shoto opening up, you already had friends, Friends who now, were his as well. Izuku, Ochako, Tenya, Tsuyu, momo, and, of course, mina. You however, had somehow remained his closest friend.

You found it hard to understand that, sure, you were one of UA's best first year students, with a powerful quirk that you had good control over, top grades and surprising agility and strength despite your smaller stature. But you never could see it like that, you only saw the weakling that your parents always saw. Due to that, you couldn't understand why anyone would want to be friends with you, especially shoto, incredible as he is. Not that you minded of course, but it only made you worry more about you newly discovered feelings, there is no way he would ever return them, he's perfect, you're not, you never were, so why would he like you?

Your friends hadn't noticed much, you've always been surprisingly good at excuses, telling them you were simply stressed when they asked about how flustered you got, especially around him, or when they asked about how jumpy you've been, and they had no reason to doubt you, why would you lie about this afterall?

So that's how it went, everyday, pretending you don't have these feelings as you admire him from afar, sure it was eating you up inside, sure, you were loosing sleep over this and sure, you got an odd tingle in the back of your throat whenever you thought about him, but nevermind, since shoto wouldn't feel the same anyway, you decided to not bother him with it at all, not too hard, right?

Well that's what you thought, it was more difficult to think that way after you started feeling ill, your throat really aching and you starting to cough, now your lungs were hurting as well, but again, nevermind, it was all worth it.

Until blood started to come out when you coughed, not much at first, so you just assumed it was due to how dry your throat was, but then more and more came out, you searched your symptoms online, but the results weren't really helpful, it could really be anything from pneumonia to lung cancer, so you waited, hoping it would go away, all while still admiring shoto from the background.

Shoto's pov:

Recently, you had been acting weird, you may be able to fool the others with excuses of being stressed, and, more recently, being sick, but shoto saw through ithe knew something was up, he just didn't know what. He had noticed your steadily growing eyebags, he had noticed you loosing weight, he had noticed how much less you were leaving your dorm room, and he was concerned, more so than he would like to admit, his closest friend and secret long time crush was clearly ill, a lot more ill than you would let the others know, he just didn't know what to do about it.

Your pov:

You feel another scratch in the back of your throat, worse than before, you knelt over the bin again, preparing for the blood that would soon come out, you start coughing again, harder and harder, yet, only small splatters of blood are coming out. Something is lodged in your throat, you can feel it, slowly coming up with your coughs, and finally, it comes out, along with a large splash of blood, you sigh in relief, glad the episode finally stopped. You wipe your lips of any remaining blood as you look through the bin, something was in your throat, you need to know what.

You see it, something amongst the blood, you pick it up, examining it before going to rinse off the excess blood... A petal... A foxglove petal with shades of white and red reminding you almost exactly of shoto's hair.

This isn't good, it can't be, sure, you might literally go to a school with all sorts of incredible powers, but coughing up flower petals can only be bad news.

A few days later:

Hanahaki disease, that's the only explanation as to what you have, you've done plenty of research and it makes sense, the blood, the petals, everything lines up perfectly, and, if your research is correct, it's currently at stage three. there are six stages, stage one, where it's just a particularly bad cough, stage two when you start coughing blood, stage three, when you start coughing up flower petals along with the blood, at this stage it starts getting difficult to breathe, stage four, when you start coughing up small leaves and parts of vines along with the blood and petals, by now you can feel the flowers growing in your lungs, stage five when you start coughing up full flowers, this is generally when you get hospitalised, and stage six, when the flowers can be seen simply by opening your mouth, by this stage it is almost impossible to breathe and theres very little to be done anymore.

There is little you can do, you can get a surgery to remove the flowers from your lungs, but that would make you forget all memories of shoto, also causing you to never be able to love again, not to mention that the surgery only has a fifty percent survival rate. You could confess to shoto, and if he reciprocates your feelings, you would be cured, or you could just die.

At night, you start coughing again, badly, so badly that by the end of it there is a small pile of petals and blood in the bin you used. You decide to visit recovery girl, you know she stays late some nights and you pray that tonight is one of those nights. You sneak out of your room, out of the common room, and out the door, completely unaware of the pair of heterochromatic eyes following your movements.

[sporksaber]

I really like the idea of korra running away earlier than she does in the show, but first, I want to talk about how fucked her situation kinda is.

[I'm going only off season 1, I don't like 3 or 4. Just wasnt my thing. I am going to bring up the red lotus stuff tho]

First off, when the white lotus show up to see if she's the avatar they are 100% looking down on her family. They seemed like they disliked being in the southern water tribe at all, and like they were completely dismissive of the idea that the avatar would be there.

Korra is then taken from her parents and confined in a fortress far away from away of the villages (as you can see when she goes on the run with nala and how far away the mountains are) [headcannons further down]. She can only leave with permission and there isn't anywhere for her to go if she wanted to leave.

They bring in bending masters to teach her, and talk up the importance of who she is. She has to stay because it's her duty, just as it's their duty to protect her. She is the avatar, that's her entire being.

Headcanon time

1. The fortress would've taken time to construct, but not long enough that korra could of moved there for training once she got older. This is proven bc the first kidnapping attempt by the red lotus happened 13 years before the events of book 3, so korra would still be 4. So either A) they forced her to go as soon as it was constructed, or B) they convinced Korra it was her duty (it's very easy to manipulate an excited 4 year old) and had her convince her parents to let her go.

2. The white lotus were always very cold to korra. She was a very energetic kid who did not match who they wanted to be and they hated it. And, much like teachers who hated when students got perfect scores despite not paying attention in class, they weren't happy when she excelled at every bending test they threw her way.

3. Sokka and zuko hung around for awhile after she was first discovered and katara was called to be her teacher. Korra really liked them, but they were always kind of off around her. But following sokka's death shortly after the battle with the red lotus, Zuko no longer came by.

4. Katara was an amazing teacher. She had taught hundreds of students and knew just how to cater to Korea's needs. The red lotus didn't like how lenient she was. Eventually, to try and prove that katara was not teaching the right way, they told her to teach korra healing. They didnt think she'd be able to as she'd never shown any spiritual aptitude. But korra still excelled. After that, they decided she didnt need any further water bending training.

^everything above is I think two years old.

A note on number 3, this would've been when korra was 4, so she doesn't really remember it. Nor does she really remember anything before being discovered as the avatar.

I really do think a lot of korra's aggression can be explained by the white lotus basically trying to make her "learn her place" and making her training more and more forceful.

Also, I think korra should have been wierder. Besides maybe some guards, no one around her is her age and she's never had a friend before. Like, they really couldn't have even arranged for her to meet with her cousins? Just completely cut off her interaction with everyone but her teachers, I wouldn't be surprised if the guards weren't actually allowed to talk to her.

[marinerainbow]

I've shared my headcannons for individual characters, but not necessarily Toontown itself. So let's rectify that today!

What's up with Toontown

(Couldn't find a gif of Toontown, so have these cogs that tickled my brain)

How it all started

Over time, Toontown just kept expanding itself. As the fear for toons died down, humans did offer a helping hand by funding construction. Though that was also another way to try to rein the toons in and gain some kind of control over them; by dictating what can or can't be built.

It was founded in 1908, around the time the first cartoon was ever made. Not by humans though, it just... Appeared. No one really knows why it did, nor why it's here in Los Angeles. That, along with the physics and logic toons ran on that went against everything we knew about our universe then, was the first thing that ticked humans off and made them want to control toons (and that's how toon segregation started).

Toontown used to be split up in areas based on the different genres. Such as Fantasy, Horror, Comedy, etc. In these areas, the physics that would apply to that specific genre would be strongest in the areas. For example, Goofy would thrive and be at his best performance in the comedy area, though if he went in the horror part of town, his toon logic would be toned down.

When big name studios like Disney and Warner Bros tarted gaining traction, they wound up becoming some of the biggest funders for toon construction, and thus were able to take large portions of Toontown and create their own 'districts' per sey; having whole streets named after their characters, building whole neighborhoods just for their toons, etc.

So yeah, long story short, humans started seeing Toontown and its residents as property, rather than... You know, people. And why so many people were looking into buying Toontown after Marvin Acme died. It's also why the toons are so worried and grateful for the will since it allowed them to finally have their town back.

I think Toontown itself is... Alive, in a way. I'm not quite sure how to explain it yet, but it's definitely a lot more than just home grounds for the toons.

Uptown

Uptown is, as one expects, where most of the toony shenanigans occur. It's also where all the well off or well known toons are.

Uptown was actually one of the areas that Toontown itself had built, with no interference from the humans. It was mainly where all the shops and businesses were back then though. Some shops have been built Downtown by now, though more often than not toons still have to go Uptown to go to work or shopping.

It is the brightest and most lively in all of town. You can't really go anywhere Uptown without seeing a living building or hearing toons performing their gags. If your a human tourist, it might be best to avoid Uptown unless you have an experienced guide with you.

Uptown doesn't just refer to the city area for the toons. When we see Eddie driving through that forest area when he first enters Toontown is considered a part of Uptown. And that does include other areas too. Uptown for the toons essentially just mean the nicer part of Toontown.

Downtown

You ever heard the song 'Skid Row' from Little Shop of Horrors? That's pretty much how you'd describe Downtown. Where the cabs don't stop, where there's no rules for us, and the rainbow is just a no-show.

Downtown actually used to be a place where the horror toons lived. It was small since horror cartoons weren't so common, but it was home for the horror toons. However, when there was an influx of unwanted toons, the humans just made this place the Downtown area. That's partly why Downtown is far more gloomy and a more serious kind of dangerous compared to the rest of Toontown.

Because of the humans influence and what they want in cartoons, other toons started ostracizing 'bad guy' toons, like weasels and wolves. Not to mention how rough they are drawn to look compared to silly rabbits. As such, Downtown is where you'd find a vast majority of the 'bad' toons.

In my Toon Patrol HC post, I said that the weasels are most prominent Downtown. Smartass started his gang here, and the Toon Patrol out and about around Downtown is not an uncommon sight.

After Doom came into power

Well, the Cloverleaf name started popping up more and more. Not too much where the humans and studios noticed right away, at least not until Cloverleaf started making its presence known in the human side of Los Angeles.

Toons grew more afraid. Especially when the weasels were put in charge. It almost seemed like even Toontown itself was affected by everything going on. Uptown tried to keep cheery, but things just... Weren't the same. When Eddie arrived while chasing after Jessica, all the toons that knew and the town itself literally brightened up with hope.

That's all I've got for now. If you guys have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them ^^

Before Doom made his DIP known to the public, he experimented with it on the residents first. Mainly toons that lived in Downtown, since they wouldn't be missed. There were rumors of some weapon in the making, but neither the humans nor the Uptown folk took it seriously, until it was all finally confirmed.

[alphaman99]

The Villainy of the Van Buren Sisters (1916)

In 1916, Augusta and Adeline Van Buren completed a 5,500 mile (8,851km) journey across the continental United States on separate motorcycles. They were also arrested multiple times for their villainous perfidy.

They had to contend with appalling roads, sometimes mountainous terrain, some remarkably unseasonal bad weather, and plenty of other issues... but they completed the trip, making them the second and third women respectively to cross the continental United States on motorcycles.

They were also the first women to reach 14,109-foot summit of Colorado's Pikes Peak by any motor vehicle.

(Which seems like cheating, but for all I know it might be harder on a motorcycle. A helicopter would definitely be cheating. Nevertheless, having done nothing more constructive on a motorcycle than fall off it, I'm still in awe.)

But they were, nevertheless, villains. Why was this?

Had they stolen the motorcycles?

Imagine the scene... a pair of hellions in suspicious hats hotwiring a couple of motorcycles, with naught but villainy in their eyes, and untrammeled mischief on their minds...

No. Their twin 1,000cc Indian Power Plus motorcycles (equipped with gas headlights) were legitimately purchased from the Indian Motorcycle Company. Back in 1916, these were the motorcycles to have, and they ran to an exorbitant US$275 each in the day. That's roughly US$7,000 in today's money.

The sisters were not short of a dollar or two, as they were descendants of a former US President, and came from a wealthy family.

Did they cause mayhem along the route?

It's hard to commit a ram-raid with a motorcycle, I'm sure... so were they the first women to do so on motorcycles in the United States?

Oddly, no. Not this either.

They certainly attracted attention, and they certainly committed crimes... but not in the way that you might think. There was no mayhem in the traditional sense. No bank robberies, no drive-by shootings, no burn-outs outside the Police station.

They did have to be rescued once, after becoming lost in the desert, but that involved one chap who was able to guide them back to a road... not a huge call-out on the tax-payer's dime.

Were they trying to promote anarchy or rebellion?

The first all-female motorcycle gang members, heading across the country on a recruitment drive? Trying to foment discord and thrust the United States into an era of calumny and woe?

No. There were no anti-government slogans, no "What are you rebelling against? What've you got?" showdowns. In fact, if anything, they were trying to be especially patriotic.

They were part of a 'preparedness' organisation, and wanted to show that women could be a productive part of the US war effort - as the US was steaming quickly towards entering World War I - and demonstrate that women could help to shoulder the burden of sacrifice for their country, even if they weren't allowed to fight.

Specifically, they wanted to show that women could become dispatch riders on the front-lines, able to travel long distances quickly and efficiently.

So, why were they constantly being arrested?

They were wearing trousers.

I don't mean that they should have been riding around with no pants on, as such... because that would have been chilly, and nobody wants flying bugs up their bits... but that even as late as 1916 there were expected dress codes, and women could be arrested for wearing men's clothes.

As the Van Buren sisters were wearing leather riding gear - including trousers and jackets - this was considered a ghastly breach of etiquette, not to mention the law, and couldn't be overlooked by... well, by the less-evolved members of society.

Technically, they should have been crossing the continental United States wearing dresses or skirts, and (probably) riding side-saddle... and according to media of the day, they were "using the national preparedness issue as an excellent excuse to escape their roles as housewives."

Ultimately the sister's petition to be allowed to be come dispatch riders was denied.

They each had successful later lives, however. Augusta went on to become a pilot, and Adeline became a lawyer.

In 2002, the sisters were inducted into the American Motorcyclist Association's Motorcycle Hall of Fame... but their epic journey - which would almost be a doddle with today's technology - and the ridiculous social barriers that they faced certainly deserves a wider audience.

[comraderomeo]

Where Skin Ends Ch. 2

Updated Every Other Thursday (sorry I was late)

links: ao3 masterpost

cw: none of note

The sun finally breaks through your stupor and forces you awake. You lie groggily in bed, less regretful of your beverage choices than you expected to be. Your complimentary headache is only a mild annoyance, for which you have that Corporal to thank, not that you remember. In fact, your memory is hazy enough to leave you with no clear events, only a lingering sense of embarrassment. You check the clock and utter a "fuck" on realizing it's noon. After gathering your strength, you roll out of bed. Each layer of clothes from the day before is systematically stripped and thrown with force into the corner where a pile of undone laundry lies. At least you have a uniform for today. As you enter the bathroom, your reflection causes you to jump. It's always been an unexpected scare, but you look especially bad today, sorry to say. The cold water splashes off your back and coats your body like a sealant for restfulness. At the end of it, you feel half-normal again. Congratulations. As you dry off fully, there comes a series of bare-minimum upkeep procedures, just enough to make you not-appalling. Next, comes the uniform. It's too crinkled to pass inspection, but who gives a shit, right? They don't even have those in your company. Run your fingers through your hair that looks like it was cut with hedge trimmers, and you're done. Now, off to drills before you give Alex anything to be annoyed about.

You arrive at the simulator facility five minutes early, which you're happy with until you see the rest of your lance sitting around a map already discussing tactics. 

"Given we are defending through this sector, Hill 251 seems the most tenable for Alex and I."

"Ed, swear to God, please use words I can understand."

"It means 'defendable.'"

"Thanks, but I don't have time for a language lesson in the field."

"I will refrain, but I ask you stop calling me-"

Alex, being uninvested in the debate on words, was the first to notice you.

"Ah, Mat. Pleased to see you on time today."

"Anything for you, Lance Commander."

"Oh, that's a surprise. I figured you half an hour late at least."

You look for a rebuke to Ashe’s comment and find one. Pointing lazily to Edward, you fire back, "At least I'm not nursing a hangover in the planning room."

"You would've been out cold for a week, if it weren't for that Lyran lass."

Edward isn’t making a show of it, but you're right. He looks like his headache is about to devour him whole.

"And, who's to say it's not a migraine or some other thing?"

"Aye, could be. Could be."

"No, it is a hangover. I apologize. However, I will still be able to pilot."

You roll your eyes almost hard enough to crack your skull. It's petty but deserved. This whole ribbing thing is a waste of time anyway.

"So, can we move on to the actual thing we're being paid to do? Or, are we all just bullying me today?"

"It can be either. I couldn't give less of a shit."

"Ashe, chill please."

"Thank you, Lance Commander."

"Agreed, bickering about one's drinking habits will not decide the war nor pay well."

"Right you are, Ed. Anyway, let me fill you in on the sim we're working with."

Edward raised up as if to say something, but dropped it. Alex zoomed out on the digital map, revealing a series of arrows indicating expected troop movements. 

"We're operating on a constructed battleground, temperate climate, hilly, lightly forested. Simulation is starting on clear weather, but that might change. We, along with elements of the Lyran 57th Armored Regiment, will be defending a 'mech production facility. We will have no aerospace support nor ground reinforcements. But, the simulation will be providing long-distance artillery support on demand, so Ashe will be running double duty spotting for them and us."

The name of that armored regiment sits poorly with you, but the reason didn’t survive last night. Alex doesn't notice and points to a hill annotated on the map.

"As Edward stated, Hill 251 would be the best place for Scholar and Storm to be positioned. Meanwhile, Calm will be running spotting and skirmishes in support of the heavy tanks all throughout the foothills here. You, as always, are the hardest to place. I'm thinking myself that we should have you powered down in this more heavily forested area Southeast of where Ashe is doing her spotting. That way, you'll be able to pop in for an ambush once they engage the armored regiment. Thoughts?"

To you, it sounds less like an important assignment and more like getting sidelined. But, what are you going to do? You’ve still barely recovered from the probationary period you were on prior to Houses Steiner and Davion making their union into an all-consuming war. It's not worth risking your neck over an assignment.

"Fine, that works. It'll also give me the chance to get into melee with their support 'mechs."

"Good. I forgot to lead with the opposition, so let me clarify. We'll be up against two full lances of Capellan ‘mechs. I haven't been given a specific list of ‘mechs, but expect them on the medium to heavy side."

"Always hate it when they don’t tell us what to expect…"

"Oh, good. I was worried Ashe had secretly passed away after that much blissful silence."

"Fuck off."

"Gladly, if I weren't on contract."

"The two of you need to stop, or I will kick you out of here. The Lyran officers are going to be joining the briefing in a few minutes, so keep it to off-hours."

You and Ashe huff. Then, as if on cue, a series of finely-trimmed officers stroll into the briefing room. Their faces belie origins from all different regions of the Lyran Commonwealth, but the patches on their shoulders unify them. It takes a few more seconds than you like to admit, but you realize this is the Lyran 57th Armored. You scan through the officers, starting with the obvious Commander and rolling down the line judgmentally. That is until you reach a face far too familiar. You instinctively recoil before you can catch yourself. Hannelore smiles at you. It's hard to catch, but there's pity in her eyes too. The rest of your lance greets them half as formally as they greet you. All you can manage is a stoic nod. Alex launches into another explanation of his tactics. You mentally block this out, even though he does mention a few more details than he gave you. The tankers seem in agreeance, and start laying out their own plans in support of you, as being the center of attention is the privilege of a MechWarrior. You don't parse most of this either, which is clearly a great idea that definitely won't fuck you over down the line. The major strokes are that the artillery will be hiding behind the hills and the rest are holding the line alongside your lancemates. It's nothing groundbreaking all in all. At some point, Alex and the nameless Lyran Commander finally stop talking. It's probably been half an hour by estimates outside of your comprehension. A few more affirmations are shared between people, then the room breaks for the simulators. You take a little too long to react, lost in your lack of thought, and now you're alone with Hannelore. You look at her and mutter “oh shit…” quietly enough that it slurs beyond comprehension. She doesn't smile with the same warmness that you saw at first but with more of the pity you’d missed before.

“So, how’re you holding up?”

“Fine…”

You swallow your pride and almost gag,

“Thank you.”

“Well, I couldn't have just left you like that. It wouldn't be right.”

“Being a mercenary doesn't leave you much room to expect people to do right. I wouldn't have been mad.”

She nods, silently drawing a parallel between the two of you.

“Very true, but doesn't that make it all the better when someone proves you wrong?”

How could someone maintain this earnestness, despite knowing how cruel and violent the universe is? You can't say. It's unsettling in a way you can't describe.

“Maybe it is, but you still didn't have to.”

She deflates a little.

“Still better to have you in good condition for the drills, right?”

You nod obliquely, giving her that concession. 

“As thanks, I'll make an effort to not embarrass you again, but I make no promises I’ll be successful.”

She lets out an amused breath, even though you don’t mean that as a joke.

“Appreciated, but I'm sure you'll do fine. Even Lieutenant Ashe let slip that you're decent in a ‘mech.”

“I figured she'd rather drag herself than compliment me, but I guess all we can do is wait and see if I live up to the legend.”

“It's the weight you have to deal with when you go the ‘mech route. It's why I'm plenty happy in my humble tank crew.”

“I prefer the solitude, and it always felt to me like the inside of a tank would smell like a sauna adjacent to livestock.”

The Corporal laughs fully this time. You're glad she does but don’t show it.

“You know what? It does, but luckily you get used to it.”

“Maybe they should-”

“Mat. Corporal. You're needed in the sim bays.”

Alex stands in the doorway, looking not mad but disappointed. You don't care much that he is, but you really should get going.