#but i DO want the role to be filled

[pardonmystardust]

.

[bixels]

In the past, people in the Animal Crossing community would make fun of Tom Nook as a sleazy landlord. Since then, he's really rehabilitated his image as this 'heart of gold' businessman (he's the one who puts bells and furniture in trees for you to find! he adopted orphans! he donates to charity!), but New Horizons genuinely paints the most devious version of him.

He's successfully privatized settler colonialism: you pay HIM to move to a "deserted island" (which apparently the oceans in the AC world are just full of) and start a colony that he is directly invested in. At best he's running a weird vacation package scam (you arrive on the island with no money and in debt for "using his services"). At worst, he's using you to set up company towns. For god's sake, he literally has his own fake currency that he forces you to use to pay off your debt. But don't worry, he's repackaged it in a way that definitely doesn't sound like an MLM scam: the Nook Mileage Program!

You're no longer just his tenant or his temporary part-timer, you're his business lackey. The entire tutorial section of the game has you spending actual weeks running around completing tasks and doing hard labor to set up his colony. You're even tasked with preparing his properties and finding buyers for them. No, you aren't a tenant anymore. You work for the landlord. You are directly responsible for finding tenants for him. And he doesn't even fucking pay you. Not for setting up town hall and museum, or his nephew's shop –– which is the ONLY store on the entire island that sells necessities –– or bringing KK Slider to town, or helping populate his town. Not a single cent. No, actually, you have to pay HIM to BUY infrastructure like bridges and stairs and park benches. And all the while, he's telling you're the "resident representative"; you get to call the shots! That the reward is the community's progress. That what you're doing is in everyone's best interest (but most importantly, his).

Since NH's release, people have done a lot of legwork to say that Tom Nook isn't a capitalist while the game shows him at his very worst. He owns the only general store in town. You're forced to use a phone that he modified and branded as his own. Buy Nook-branded furniture and merchandise at the self-serve kiosk in the town hall, a governmental building! There's no conflict of interest here!

But hey, if you're tired of being the landlord/business mogul's goon, you can also find work as a deluxe resort home designer for a company that also pays you in their special company currency that can only be used to buy their products instead of a real salary! Because that's what the Animal Crossing franchise needs! More vacation homes!!!

[just-an-enby-lemon]

"The kid seems scared.

Tip had always been a little nervous. Or at least that was the reality when the two had met.

It was fairly obvious for everyone that met them that the child had not been treated well by their formar guardian and in a way that Elphaba sadly recognized still seemed to afraid of facing the same pain and rejection again.

Still lately the kid seemed more relaxed and open, treating her with the same easiness and earnest they did Jack. More determined to learn than eager to please. Following her around with questions and vibrating with excitement as she turned wooden sticks into dolls and toy swords alike. It made her think of Nessa in a very bittersweet way.

She failed her sister and she would not allow herself to fail another young person she became responsable for.

That's to say Tip's strange turn to the same scared kid she met soon after leaving her behind and being declared and enemy of Oz scared her.

"Miss Elphaba, I have something very serius to tell you."

Maybe they want to leave. They are not in fact different in the same way Elphaba is. Tip is a normal if deeply magical child who just ended up in the care of a horrible woman. Being her aprenticce is actually the only thing turning them into a dangerous and hated figure.

"I understand."

The kid takes a deep breath. Elphaba tries to think on the best words to explain that of course they can leave if they want to and that they can take as many provisions as they need. Tip will never again be a prisioner.

"I don't think I am a boy? Wait no. I know I'm not a boy. Like the idea of it is still a bit scary because it seems like it will be a big deal but I'm fairly sure I'm a girl actually. I just never though about it before but Jack called me she accidentaly and it just makes sense. I am still the same Tip and please let me keep being your aprentice." She says in a single breath.

"What?"

The girl looked scared. "I'm a girl." She says. Than in a smaller voice. "I can try to be a boy if you want?" It does not appear to be something she wants and the fact she still sugests it breaks Elphaba's heart a little.

"Oh! Oh. No, no, that's fine. Do you want to be called something else?"

Her eyes go huge and she stops deep in thought before answring.

"Uh. I guess so, but I'm still thinking on it. I don't mind Tip for now."

"Okay, tell me when it changes?"

"Will do."

"Anything else?"

Tip looks a bit shy for half a second before a excited smile covers her face. "Could you let me borrow a dress?"

Elphaba laughts.

"You are too tiny for my dresses, kid. But I can help you magic one for yourself. "

Her eyes shine. "Cool!"

[...]

"Morrible says you'll marry some prince soon." Dorothy says making a face.

"I don't see why you are soo distraught, my dear, I'm pretty sure she'll find me a great prince." Glinda says with false cheer.

"I doubt it. Princes are all very dull."

"Met many princes did you?" She jokes lightly, trying to find a way to change the subject. She loves the kid dearly and for all it's bleak consequences will always be glad the tornado ended up bringing the girl into her life but she would preffer not to discuss those subjects. Specially not in her own bedroom in a rare moment of relaxation.

"Well no." The girl pouts. "But most boys are dull and I can't imagine liking to marry even the ones that aren't. I guess I just thought you were the same? I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. And I sure hope marriage is unimaginable for you, you are way to young for it."

The girl smiles a tiny bit before frowning.

"I can imagine myself marrying a girl one day."

"Oh!" Is all Glinda says.

"I told Aunt Em once she told me to never say it again, she told me I was too young. But I'm ten now and I feel the same. " Dorothy rarely talks about home, sometimes Glinda tricks herself into beliving it is because her the kid just loves Oz better, that she forgot all about it, but she knows deep down that Dorothy will always miss Kansas, always miss her uncle and aunt and Toto, she just accepted home as a place she'll never return to. In the good days Glinda knows Dorothy would also miss Oz, would miss her munchkin friends and mostly would miss being Glinda's apprentice. In the better days she thinks about bringing Dorothy's family here. After all Kansas always seems sad and hungry. "Girls don't marry each other in Kansas." She continues. "But I though maybe they did here. "

"I think they do everywhere, Dorothy, is just some people pretend they don't because the different scares them."

"Like the Wizard and the animals?"

Glinda had only recently convinced Dorothy to only speak her very dangerous beliefs on the Wizard in private and even there she sometimes corrected the kid. But right now it felt too much like liying to Elphaba she couldn't do it, not when she knew Dorothy to be right.

"Yeah. Just like that."

And after a second she adds.

"Between us, I would also like to marry a woman".

Dorothy smiles, just a little bit.

[...]

She knows she should not be here.

But it's fun, she likes the dancing and the food and the small chance of going back home with something that can actually help Elphie. Maybe a magical item or even just some usefull information.

Besides the girl she is talking to is very pretty and fun and smart and she is not open about it but she's definitivaly not the biggest fan of the Wizard either. Oh and a great dancer.

"I'm sorry" the girl says "but I think I did not catch your name?"

Now it's the moment to say something clever like 'i never gave it to you' or maybe just invent some fake name. She can't say her name. It's too easy of a conection to make. But she doesn't need to lie. After all it was never really her name. And she has a name now. Has had it for days and just keept it a secret in some weird form of fear. But it felt like time. She would tell it to Elphie and Jack when she went back.

"Ozma. I'm Ozma. What's yours?"

[...]

Dorothy had never had so much fun at a party before. Her new friend was the most beutifull girl she ever met and the funniest and cleverest and it had never felt so easy to talk to someone before. In fact the only thing Ozma didn't appear to be was a good dancer but Glinda had teached Dorothy well and she found herself leading the other girl steps into the best dance she ever had.

She noticed Ozma did not gave any surname but it was not her place to pry. She just hoped to mert the girl again.

"Dorothy." She says and takes the hand. For a second she considers continuing in the way she was instructed to (Dorothy Upland at your pleasure and a kiss to the hand) but while she loves Glinda that's not really her. And she somehow trusts Ozma enough to be honest. "Dorothy Gale." She shakes the hand just like Uncle Henry used to.

[nellasbookplanet]

I recently started reading (and ended up dropping partway through) an m/m retelling of an old legend, and it made me think of this reoccurring thing I've come across a handful of times now in m/m fiction and how they approach women, equality, and world-building.

Let's call it the omegaverse problem, because that's where it seems the most blatant (I've only come across it twice outside of fandom spaces that I can remember). Basically, it's when the writer looks at the unequal and sometimes oppressive roles women serve in society (today and historically), and goes 'this is a good basis for dark romance but there are too many women here' and then just. plops men into the roles traditionally served by women and recreates heteronormative tropes but They're All Men Now, none of those icky women.

Now, completely removing any and all gender based inequality isn't a bad basis for a queer-inclusive fantasy! But thing is, this type of narrative isn't interested in women, so they often read as if women have mysteriously disappeared from society (except for the occassional mom or sister). They don’t bother to include women in traditionally male areas (the book I dropped had plenty of male courtesans, with diplomats and bodyguards and advisors also being male) nor to create new roles for them.

They also generally don’t bother to look critically at the systemic and societal inequalities they're mimicking. The concept 'typically sexist society but they're all men (or all women)' could be used to alienate and deconstruct our ideas of what’s 'normal' and what’s oppressive, a way to compare the intersections of class and gender. Instead, this kind of story is only interested in using inequality as inter-character conflict and set-up for romance. And it sucks.

[delusionalbitchinthehouse]

I'm on a roll with AU these days, so. Cowboy AU ! Outlaw Dewdrop x Sheriff Swiss...with a twist.

It's been a long fucking day. Very fucking long. Swiss' back aches as he leans back into his seat, blinking when the lines of barely legible handwritting still swim in front of his eyes, even now that he's looked up from all the paperwork.

Yawning, he looks around his office, lazily blinking. A light breeze brushes his face, making him frown and glance at the half opened window. Hadn't he closed it ? Swiss tries to recall, hours blending together in his memory. Maybe he didn't, maybe he forgot.

Once he's locked it, Swiss snatches his hat, delibarating between popping to the saloon or just staying home.

"Be the sheriff, they said, it'll be fun, they said," he grumbles, making his way downstairs, "they just forgot to mention the fucking paperwork."

It's all fake complaints, though. No matter how much paperwork makes him want to hang himself sometimes, Swiss loves this town, loves taking care of it, protecting it, acting for the people that make it such a bright and homely place.

Plus, he rocks the hat he was gifted when he became sheriff. That thing is probably his most prized possession.

Once in the kitchen, Swiss makes a beeline for the nearest bottle, in dire need of a little something to clear the fog in his brain from answering letters, approving or denying demands and signing what needed to be signed for hours.

The bottle leaves the shelf too easily, snatched with too much strenght for its weight. Swiss frowns, looking down at the bottle. It's three quarters empty, which doesn't sit right with him. He's sure, absolutely certain he left it more full than this.

All at once, Swiss becomes keenly aware of his surroundings, his senses sharpening in an instant. Noticing things he hasn't prior.

The rim of the bottle is still wet, a stray drop clinging to the neck, not having had time to reach the bottom. A glass is missing on the shelf. The memory of the window he thought he had closed flashes back in Swiss' mind.

His hand flies to his holster just as the distinct sound of someone cocking their gun breaks the silent, followed by a voice.

"Touch that gun and i'll have to scrub your brains off the floor," it says.

Swiss freezes, slowly raising his hands on either sides of his head. He hears steps, then a hand relieves him of both the guns he carries, as well as the knife hidden in his boot - quite the predictable place to keep it, Swiss will admit.

"Turn around," the voice orders then.

Swiss does, half smiling.

"Very rude way of starting a conversation, don't you think ?"

"Who says I want to talk ?"

Swiss groans as he takes in the man facing him. Long hair, mismatched eyes, sharp features, a scar tugging the right corner of his mouth up in a perpetual smirk ; a familiar face, one plastered on every available wall of every town.

Dewdrop, wanted for a baffling amount of crimes Swiss can't be bothered to remember, dead or alive. Reward : Swiss can't remember that either, with how often it changes.

The outlaw amongst the outlaws.

Swiss raises an eyebrow.

"Well, you see, people love chatting with me, so I just assumed you were as dying to hear my voice as the others."

Dewdrop scoffs, though he's smiling, a thin, sharp thing that reminds him of a blade. The fucker is holding a glass of Swiss' liquor in the hand not gripping the gun.

"Sorry to disapoint, sheriff, but if i had the time to sew your mouth shut, I would."

Swiss tilts his head.

"Rude. Almost as much as drinking my stash away."

Dewdrop downs his glass, maintaining eye contact the whole time, carelessly setting it on the nerby table with a satisfied smack of lips.

"You have enough liquor to drown in it, I'm sure my share won't be missed."

Swiss almost doesn't catch the quick way Dewdrop's eyes rake over him, up and down and up again, pausing momentarily at the silver of belly exposed by his raised arms. Almost.

"What I do miss are my guns," Swiss huffs, eyeing where they've been unceremoniously shoved under Dewdrop's belt. The outlaw takes one out, examinating it with an approving hum : they're very nice guns, well-cared for. Then he puts it back, still at his own belt.

"You'll miss a lot more once i'm done."

Swiss' eyebrows climb up his forehead ; there is a vague innuendo to be made, he thinks, but between the tiredness still weighting on his shoulders and the way his eyes keep stubbornly falling on Dewdrop's lips, he can't find a way to phrase it. Instead, he props his hip against the end of the table opposite to the one Dewdrop stands at.

"So you, a famous outlaw, master of escapism, came to this...tiny town and decided to ransack the sheriff's house ? You won't find nearly as much as you're used to."

The look Dewdrop gives him then, feels like being flayed open, exposed raw to prying, piercing eyes. It takes all of Swiss' carefully crafted self-control not to flinch away from it. When Dewdrop takes a step toward him, he can't help but tense, smile less easy, more strained.

"Oh but you see, sheriff, i pride myself in being nosy. Some might say it's a flaw, I say it's a very useful thing. I have keen ears, you see. I hear a lot, and I love rumors."

The barel of Dewdrop's gun presses against Swiss' chest. The outlaw is fully grinning now.

"And, you see, people say the Multi-Faced Thief - you know the Multi-Faced Thief, don't you sheriff ?- didn't die in that trainwreck years ago. Some say he's still alive, mascarading as a simple civilian, maybe even a figure of authority, hoarding the goods he stole, or aquired thanks to his thievery. "

Swiss swallows, his smile widening. Dewdrop is clever, ruthless, ambitious. He can't help liking it. There's no point in bullshitting him, but Swiss decides he can't give in without fucking with him a bit.

"And why are you telling me that ?"

All the air leaves the room when Dewdrop leans forward, so close his nose almost brushes Swiss'. It's crooked, Swiss notices, the bridge a bit wonky, probably broken once or twice. His fingers twitch above his head with the sudden and irrational need to touch it.

Swiss can barely breath, waiting, Dewdrop's eyes flickering over his face, searching. Pausing on his plush lips for half a second too long.

"I think you know why. You've gone soft, Multi. It was easy sneaking in. Disarming you."

A chuckle escapes Swiss as he drops the act, entertained by this guy's audacity. His confidence. Instead of shying away from the gun, he weights against it, sure to leave a dent in his skin. His eyes darken in the dim light ; oxygen can barely find both their lungs in what tiny sliver of space there's left between their faces.

"I'll admit, I dropped my guard. Didn't expect a pretty thing like you to stumble into my house. Try to steal from me. If we'd met a few years ago, I would either have put a bullet between your eyes or taken you for a ride."

Up close, Swiss is at the front row to see Dewdrop's pupils expand, his chest rising and falling quickly. Despite that, he doesn't lose sight of his objective, something Swiss admires quietly as he's shoved a few inches back by the push of the gun.

"Yeah, well. Here you are today, distracted and gunless."

Swiss nochalently raises his, mirroring Dewdrop's position, barrel against his narrow ribcage.

"You were saying ? Looks like I'm not the only one who's losing focus, mmh ?"

He watches in amusement Dewdrop's cheeks clolouring with both anger and embarrassement, his mismatched eyes flicking down to his belt, where only one of Swiss' guns is left.

"So, we're in a bit of a dead end, but i'll make you a deal, yeah ? You leave, and you leave fast, without doing this town any damages. In exchange, i'll let you have this," Swiss drawls, slipping a hand under his collar to tug on a richly ornemented pendant, one that always stays concealed under layers.

Dewdrop's jaw falls open at the sight of the Multi-Faced Thief's most famous prize, the hold-up of the century. Swiss waits for his answer, grinning, watching rubies reflecting in wide eyes.

"Why...would you offer that ?" Dewdrop manages to choke out, stunned.

Swiss laughs lightly, slipping the jewlery off his neck and onto Dewdrop's, still not letting go of it, precious metal digging in his palm.

"I'm tired of carrying this old thing around, and i'm already plenty rich. Do we have a deal ?"

Greed is always a bad influence, Swiss would know. It's currently shining in Dewdrop's eyes, surely thrumming in his veins. But he's not stupid, either.

"Right. And the real reason....?"

Huffing, Swiss yanks on the pendant, grinning from ear to ear.

"The real reason, is that i'll have a good excuse to hunt you down. I'll get this back. I'll catch you. I've missed the thrill of the chase."

It's not much of deal, more like a threat, or maybe a promise, but it's clear by the look on Dewdrop's face that he's game. Incapable of resisting the challenge.

"If you think you're up to it, it'll be my pleasure to prove you wrong, sheriff. It's a deal."

Swiss let go. They're still holding each other at gunpoint.

"My weapons, or you're not walking through the door," he warns.

"Windows would do," Dewdrop snarks back, though he does toss Swiss' second gun and knife on the table. His eyes flick up to Swiss' hat, hand twitching.

"Unless you intend to take me up on the ridding offer, I suggest you don't take that. You know the rule," Swiss smirks, earning an eye roll.

"Not tonight," Dewdrop breathes, slowly backing up toward the window, still aiming at Swiss' chest.

He's halfway through it when Swiss calls back.

"I'll see you soon, Dew."

The outlaw throws him a daring look, scarred cheek pulling with how wide he smiles, and it's the last thing Swiss sees before he jumps off.

Alone in his kitchen, Swiss laughs.

This will be fun.

[uniiiquehecrt]

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

[wigglebox]

Suptober Extended [x] - Day 16 || Crossover [inspo]

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[t0bey]

genuine question but is the hate for avatars in fe as warranted as it is or is mainly just not liking the mc getting called professor/divine dragon the entire game

[cruelplatonic]

ruminating on 'the vees died despondent nobodies' thoughts

velvette interrogates vox after she hears him give various conflicting and bombastic accounts on air. a selection of these include: blew his brains out on live television, administered the death penalty for killing his "bitch wife," a tragic accident involving two shetland ponies, dubiously legal iranian yogurts, and a whole lot of cocaine. the actual cause was shockingly ordinary- a heart attack in front of the television, alone, his corpse only recovered after two weeks passed. he was watching a game show and his last mortal regret was never even learning who won, because he died during the commercials.

[fictionadventurer]

It's important to my internal ecosystem that I watch/read/listen to some media in order to fight with it. Engage with the ideas and figure out in detail just where and how they're wrong and right. It's a good mixture of fun and frustration that's very valuable.

[oh-no-its-bird]

U see my problem is that I don't actually really wanna make naruto ocs. But the stories I want to write literally require it. Like, I wanna tell a story about kid Kakashi getting adopted by an accidental time traveler Hatake clan head from the warring era + lots of politics and explosions and Hatake clan lore. But that requires me to fucking make a Hatake clan head bc we don't HAVE ONE OF THOSE for me to just use

In a hell of my own creation fr.

[inquisitormanatee]

I wrote a thing between Viago and Revas. Viago is really important to Revas and I've been sitting on that for a couple of days cause I wanna expand on it. So this is after Revas is back from the fade and the first time he goes to see Viago, which he had been putting off for some time. He carries a lot of shame and guilt for the failed contract and the fact that Viago had to go and rescue him and I don't think Viago would realize it until this moment.

[sapphire-draw]

There's a lot of things I want to work on but I don't have any time for them. So instead here's two scenes I had already fixed up beforehand for a friend.

Context: One of my builders praying to the God of Destruction without knowing it's actually Malroth. Shenanigans ensue.

Have a different altar to the Children of Hargon's because different religions can pray to the same god (game already makes the Children of Builder joke and I ran with it)

Also shoutout to that person in AO3 whom I totally stole the bird idea from. I couldn't find who when I went back to search for it. sorry. (if anyone knows I'll edit it in)

If I had more time I could try to fix the weird layout. sorry.

Malroth (human) also doesn't know the God of Destruction is actually Malroth. It's really funny trust me.

[good-beanswrites]

I've been thinking about alien stage and milgram so

All in (Hyuna and Till) but it's with Kotoko and Fuuta

OOHH I've been going crazy over this -- I've only touched on Milgram/Alien Stage aus a bit but now I'm hooked 👀 I was playing around for a while with how to incorporate the song specifically, and had a ton of fun with this lyric/scene experiment, haha! I was shocked at how well the song would suit them even in Milgram canon... I used gender neutral descriptions for the Mizi-character because I'm not sure who people would picture for that role, and wanted to leave it open. Also um. tw major character death :( sorry.

Your eyes grow wide at my dazzling entrance, and your heart beats fast, OK! There's no point fighting back – this is the march of the fools.

The rebel leader stands proudly on the stage. Her followers practically howl at her arrival. Their gathering spot may have been a secret, but they didn’t bother being quiet about their excitement. The tides are turning, and everyone feels it. It doesn’t matter what kind of front the aliens put up; everyone knows the fear that their leader strikes into her enemies. Every planet, moon, and ship knows what she’s capable of. They know that going up against her brass knuckles will only have one outcome for them. No matter the cost, Yuzuriha Kotoko will come out on top.

Endless cheer and applause – I hear the song grow louder and louder. Fill up the entire nebula!

The contestant brings his guitar down with all the force he can muster, sparks flying out and scorching his hands. The audience roars at the display. He’s tired of all those eyes watching him, but at least he’s making them all watch as he destroys some little piece of them. For now, they only find morbid curiosity in his fruitless rage, but someday he’ll sing loud enough, act loud enough, scream loud enough that the galaxy will be forced to hear him. To alien and human alike, the face of Kajiyama Fuuta is an icon of rebellion.

Just laugh, hey kick and break ya! To the galaxy shining bright, chi-cheers. Change the game with a single action. Trust me and I'll show you, chi-cheers.

Kotoko’s boot cracks bones on impact. It wasn’t even her steel leg that had rendered her enemy into this mess. The alleyway is too hidden and the neon city street too distracted for anyone to hear the alien’s final cries at her feet. Her team catches up with her, breathless with exertion and shock at the victim she leaves in her wake. As soon as she holds up what they came here to get, all doubt leaves them. Their ship will echo with celebration tonight.

We only get one life, so I'm living mine for me, cause I'm the one from your wildest dreams. I'll create a fantasy in this crazy world and change it all, I'm going all-in. 

“Ha-ha –!” Fuuta hasn’t heard himself laugh in a long time. It isn’t a pleasant sound, and neither is the chaos that follows as the fight escalates. But damn, did it feel good. The lights of the paparazzi blind him as he’s yanked out of a magnetic train car. The crowd deafens him. The aliens around him bruise and break him down. But he holds tight to the things deep in his mind. He imagines himself as a shining hero. He thinks of them – his own hero. He conjures up a world that’s better for both of them. It’s for this reason he wrenches his arm away from those holding him back. Though his collar buzzes with electricity, he takes another swing.

A universe brimming with dreams… Who will remain standing at the end of it all? Don't you wanna know? Caught within rules without rules, a bird is set free. I hear the song grow louder, fill up the entire nebula!

As the glass shatters around her, Kotoko can’t help but savor the moment suspended in the air. Given her many escapes over the years, she hadn’t been worried about making it out in one piece. And yet her heart races each time she tastes freedom again. She lands on her feet, pausing to make sure her newest recruit is keeping up. Kotoko flashes a wide, toothy smile at them, and they return it shakily. They seem a bit shaken by all the blood that had been spilled on the way, but Kotoko is proud of how quickly they’ve adapted to this liberated lifestyle. She’s riding the thrill of success, knowing she’s changed the outcome of Alien Stage once again. Another weak human saved from their captors. Another victory.

Just laugh, hey kick and break ya! To the galaxy shining bright, chi-cheers. Change the game with a single action. Trust me and I'll show you, chi-cheers.

Smoke chokes Fuuta’s lungs, but it doesn’t hold him back. The private dinner room is full of the rich and powerful as they eat, smoke, and laugh at humans’ expense. They place bets on the upcoming competition rounds. They harass Fuuta to perform for them, eyes of all shapes and colors boring into him. Through the haze and dim lights, the spark of resistance is burning as bright as always. He dares to talk back at a figure who is not used to being talked back to. Fuuta dodges a few strikes, even getting in a few kicks of his own before he’s overwhelmed with a blow to his right eye. 

We only get one life, so I'm living mine for me, cause I'm the one from your wildest dreams. I'll create a fantasy in this crazy world and change it all, I'm going all-in.

Kotoko tries to hide her snarl at the massive advertisement screens they pass. Even flying by at these speeds, she gets a clear look at the Alien Stage champion and his coy smile. It churns her stomach. She had always wondered why any contestant would willingly stand up there and sing, knowing it would get someone else killed. They were complicit in murder, if you asked her. But this man – his actions were far more than “complicit.” The face of a tiny girl flashes through her mind. For a moment, she’s lost in a vision of the girl by her side – still laughing, still carefree in the world that Kotoko is working towards. Reality returns to her. She discharges her weapon directly into an alien’s face.

Every obstacle in my way, I've crushed them all. Step all over me but I'll rise again. It's you who's in the wrong, bet you had no idea.

The lights go up, and Fuuta sways on his feet. He finds himself instantly winded as he starts to sing. The heat from the show’s pyrotechnics make him even dizzier. His good eye surveys the crowd. He would not let these villains win. They took the people he cared about. They took the people who cared about him. Hell, they even took his guitar. He knows that by the end, they’ll take his life, too. It’s all the more reason to continue. He sees now that his intensity had inspired others, even if it hadn’t saved them. Fuuta refuses to go down quietly. He refuses to stop singing. He opens his mouth:

“Hey!”

Kotoko shouts it after the new recruit, but their mind is made up. She’s left clutching at her injury and frantically typing on the huge machine, trying to complete their original mission. The screen streaming the event flashes with images of the redhead pouring his heart out onstage. Kotoko lets out a strangled sound of frustration and stands to follow.

Just laugh, hey kick and break ya! To the galaxy shining bright, chi-cheers. Change the game with a single action. Trust me and I'll show you, chi-cheers. Whatever comes to mind, give it a chance. Contemplate all you want, won't change a thing. 

Blood pools around the losing contestant. All that shouting and he can’t even choke out a goodbye, now. The intruder stands in the one place she spent her life fighting tooth and nail to escape forever. They lock eyes. They’d only heard accounts of the other, but in that brief moment, they understand. They are just two humans, two loud humans, who had a vision of how bright the universe could be someday. Despite it all, they both ended up here, doomed to die on this stage after singing out to an uncaring audience. Fuuta’s gaze slips away. He offers one last smile to his hero. For the first and last time, he is content.  Kotoko turns her attention away from them, to the audience. She clenches her fists and feels very far from content.

Don’t you dare stop now –

Justice assemble! Till the end –

Ride the waves of passing time, and run with the wind 'til morning, don't stop.