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tyrantisterror · 4 years ago

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THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE SAFE! YOU THOUGHT THAT THE TIME OF MONSTERS WAS AT AN END! BUT YOU WERE WRONG, FOR NOW YOU MUST WITNESS…

THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

That’s right, it’s back! Celebrating the publication of The Atomic Time of Monsters Volume 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth! (which in turn completes The Ballad of Tyrantis arc for this series), I’m holding another monster design jam. The third of such jams, in fact!

Like the first A.T.O.M. Create a Kaiju Contest, the aim of this contest is to create kaiju that would fit within the setting of my big kaiju story series, The Atomic Time of Monsters. Think of it as me letting you into my sandbox to play with my toys for a bit, or like you’re being put in the director’s chair of a new ATOM-verse kaiju movie. That means your entry does have to fit into ATOM’s world, which in turn means that yes, there are limitations to your creativity here. But limitations can be good sometimes - they can make us explore options we wouldn’t consider when given completely free rein to do what we want!

(also you don’t have to make a three dimensional image or anything, the title’s just a pun on how the third movie in a monster movie franchise will often be a 3-D film)

Read below the cut to learn the rules and whatnot:

THE RULES:

1. You are limited to one entry per person. Work hard and make your entry count!

2. Your kaiju must have some sort of description of its physical appearance and its personality - you can submit a drawing or a written description (or both!) for the physical appearance depending on what you’re most comfortable with. Using the same template/format as my official ATOM Kaiju Files (https://horrorflora.com/monster-menageries/atom-kaiju-files/) isn’t required, but it was cool when people did it in the last contest, so feel free to do so this time too!

3. The kaiju you create must specifically be created for this contest - no repurposing characters you made for other, wildly different stories. This is not “trick TT into drawing/canonizing my main OC” time.

4. The kaiju must fit the setting and aesthetics of ATOM. I’ll explain this in more detail down below.

5. The kaiju should add something meaningful to the world of ATOM. The more unique and interesting your kaiju is, the more likely you will win the contest.

6. Don’t make your kaiju too dependent on pre-existing ATOM characters - no “Tyrantis’s long lost evil brother who’s the strongest kaiju in the world.” These should be to Tyrantis’s story what War of the Gargantuas is to Godzilla’s movies – heroes (well, monsters) of another story in the same world.

THE REWARDS:

I will make pencil sketches of the top 5 entries in the contest.

I will then make fully rendered illustrations (lineart, colors, & shading) of the top three entries.

The winning entry will be made into a model ala the ones I’ve been making for ATOM’s core 50 monsters, which can then be shipped to the person who created it (should they be able to cover the shipping costs). That’s right, your kaiju could be brought to life in THREE GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR DIMENSIONS! (Hey, we worked the gag title in to the prizes!)

THE DEADLINE: All entries must be submitted by July 3rd, 2021. You can submit it here on tumblr, via the horror flora e-mail, or any other channel you know how to reach me through. I’m in a lot of places.

THE GUIDELINES (TO HELP YOUR ENTRY FIT THE RULES AND WIN):

The smartest thing you could do if you want to win this contest is familiarize yourself with the world of ATOM by, y’know, reading all the material I’ve published on the subject. In addition to the many kaiju files that are free to read on horrorflora.com, there are now TWO, count ‘em, TWO novels in this series for you to peruse, both of which establish many of the rules of the setting as well as its general themes and tone! You can get them in either paperback or e-book formatting (I’d recommend the former over the latter since I lack the technology to make a really nice ebook, but if money is an object, the kindle version is only $1). Here’s the links again if you missed them:

Vol. 1: Tyrantis Walks Among Us!

Vol. 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth!

However, since I know reading a bunch of stuff is, y’know, not something everyone is inclined to do, I’ll jot some good bullet points for you in an attempt to outline how ATOM works in a brief, easily digested way:

ATOM is an homage to the monster fiction of the 1950’s and 60’s (i.e. the Atomic Age), and is set in those two decades, albeit an alternate universe version of them where, y’know, monsters and space aliens exist. If you aren’t familiar with the monster fiction I’m referring to, there will be some reference material provided at the end of this post along with some recommendations for further research.

Kaiju/giant monsters in ATOM work under very specific rules. There’s a full description of those rules at this link, but here’s the jist:

ATOM Kaiju are created created by the radiation of a mineral called Yamaneon, which naturally converts harmful radiation into its own unique energy. In natural circumstances, it takes hundreds of years of exposure to Yamaneon radiation for a creature to become fully transform into a kaiju (luckily, Yamaneon radiation slows the aging process while speeding up the healing process). However, an explosive burst of energy - such as the geothermal and kinetic energy released by an earthquake, or the blast of a nuclear weapon - can speed up the process, turning a normal animal into a kaiju within a matter of seconds.

All ATOM kaiju can heal grievous wounds within minutes or even seconds, are supernaturally strong and durable, and can convert harmful radiation to harmless energy that they then feed off of. Kaiju do not have an equivalent of old age, and can theoretically live forever (though their violent lifestyle means that few do).

ATOM Kaiju generally don’t need to eat unless they are severely injured, getting most of the energy they need from solar or geothermal radiation - but many still have instincts that drive them to seek out food from time to time.

Most ATOM kaiju stand roughly 100 feet tall (depending on their body shape), i.e. smaller than the original 1954 Godzilla. There are exceptions to this rule - younger kaiju can be smaller, while exceedingly old kaiju can be significantly larger, but these are rare.

In general, ATOM kaiju are significantly more intelligent and emotionally complex than people expect animals to be, though most are incapable of speech or complex tool use. There’s a reason ATOM Kaiju Files have a “personality” section.

Most ATOM Kaiju are tooth and claw fighters - ranged weapons are a rarity in this setting.

While the terrestrial monsters in ATOM look strange, they are intended to fit within the taxonomy of animals in reality - reptiles, mammals, fish, arthropods, molluscs, etc.

ATOM’s mesozoic era was dominated by a fictional clade of crocodile-relatives called retrosaurs, which are based on the outdated paleoart that one would find in the 1950’s/60’s fiction - i.e. when dinosaurs were viewed as trail dragging lizards instead of strange birds. You can learn more about retrosaurs here (https://horrorflora.com/2016/11/15/atom-kaiju-file-bonus-a-guide-to-retrosaurs/).

Kaiju appear on every continent in ATOM, but certain areas tend to be dominated by different types.

North America is mainly besieged by retrosaur kaiju and giant arthropods.

East Asia is technically also mainly plagued by retrosaurs and big arthropods, though they tend to look more fantastical and mythic - and, often, oddly well suited to being portrayed by a person wearing a monster suit.

Russia is beset by prehistoric monsters that seem to come from the Cenozoic, particularly the Ice Age.

Western Europe is plagued by creatures that vaguely resemble creatures from myth, if they were also prehistoric. Dragon-y lizards, fiery birds, etc.

Towards the mid-way point of ATOM’s timeline, earth is invaded by a coalition of aliens from different solar systems called the Beyonder Alliance, and as a result a bunch of alien monsters can be found on earth.

Mars and Venus both host (or hosted in Mars’s case) animal life. The surviving Martians colonized Venus, and sent some of their kaiju guardians to earth to help us fend off the Beyonders (who are responsible for the destruction of Mars’s ecosystem). Martian and Venusian kaiju have specific anatomical quirks, which you can see by looking at these kaiju files:

Venusians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/03/atom-kaiju-file-29-karamtor/

Martians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-39-kemlasulla/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-40-podritak/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-41-sombarvot/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-38-ullawdra/

Giant robots exist in ATOM, but are big, bulky, and incredibly expensive. Fancy beam weapons also exist, but are similarly clunky - there are no sleek, elegant machines in ATOM.

Since the fiction ATOM takes inspiration from was made at a time when interplanetary travel was only just beginning to be possible, its scope is significantly smaller than modern sci-fi. Alternate universes/dimensions were pretty uncommon because the idea of alien planets still held a lot of wonder to it. So, as a general rule, don’t try to go farther than the one galaxy.

ATOM is a setting for stories that are focused on humanity learning to coexist with monsters, rather than humanity destroying them. A certain level of sympathy is put into almost every creature of its canon, even the ones that are meant to be villains.

REFERENCE MATERIAL

Here is a playlist of 1950′s monster movie trailers.

Here is some reference material from various monster comics of the 50′s and 60′s.

Good movies to track down to understand ATOM’s inspiration and tone include Ghidorah the 3 Headed Monster, Son of Godzilla, Destroy All Monsters, Them!, The Black Scorpion, 20 Million Miles to Earth, Gamera, The Giant Claw, and The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra.

And here’s the intro cutscenes for all the different giant monsters in the PS2 videogame War of the Monsters.

#The Atomic Time of Monsters #The ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3D

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itsclydebitches · 4 years ago

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The thing that feels disingenuous about Miles answer about Ironwood is that he was part of the writing staff that framed the general as a cool character to start with. I do think that the signs about Ironwood's evil were clear since V2 and in V7 he was an outright dictator from episode 1. Nonetheless, he was still consistently framed as a cool character, someone you can trust and rely. You don't get to blame the fans for liking a genocide if you was the one framed him as cool in the first place.

I actually don’t think being cool is the problem. If we’re satirizing and/or making a statement about the toxic masculinity that leads to something like a dictatorship, then being “cool” is a crucial part of that. People don’t leverage the power they have by looking lame, they do so by appearing desirable, enviable, awesome. Being in the military is supposedly “cool.” Being a white guy with a giant gun is supposedly “cool.” Having power over an entire nation is supposedly “cool,” etc. If you only make such characters look revolting — even when they are — then you miss one of the main recruitment tools for this kind of rhetoric. Any version of Ironwood that’s meant to make a point about the dangers of following someone like him needs to make him look “cool” and then deconstruct that, pointing out the ways in which this cool veneer is a lie meant to pull you in. To do otherwise is to claim that evil people are always easy to spot. Making your villains “uncool” implies that the people who do appear cool in real life must be fine then. That good looking, charismatic leader is great. Why would I look critically at his actions? He’s too cool to be evil.

My personal problem is not that “They made the dictator look cool and we can’t possibly expect the audience to tell the difference between someone who is truly good and someone who is just using various Cool Points to skate by” because that would be the point of such a character — the work the show needs to do. My problem is that RWBY didn’t do that work. At least, not to the extent they needed to. Rather than making Ironwood a truly heinous character (prior to Volume 7 ‘s shooting, I mean) and allowing the audience to learn how appearing cool can’t hide that, they just made him good person. Straight up. Flawed, absolutely, but no worse than any of the other character on screen, particularly post Volume 6 when our heroes are frequently putting people in danger, seizing power, telling lies, keeping secrets, and generally acting in the ways we’re supposedly meant to condemn Ironwood for. Since talk of Miles’ vid last night I’ve seen three separate “Ironwood was always bad, idk how people can miss the signs” posts and those people are half right. There 100% were signs we were meant to pick up on. The problem is RWBY then went and deconstructed those signs. Ironwood didn’t just bring an army to a peace festival, he brought an army to an event he had good reason to believe wasn’t peaceful — and he was right. Ironwood didn’t wrest control from Ozpin (using a series of checks and balances that exist for this very purpose...) because he has an obsession with being in control, he did so because he honestly believed Ozpin was putting people in danger — and he was right. Ironwood didn’t step up post-Fall because he arrogantly believes he’s the only one capable of saving Remnant, he did so because he’s actually the most qualified: a fully trained huntsmen leading an Academy (like Ozpin) with an army and knowledge of this secret war. What, was Ironwood supposed to read the script and wait for the group of dropout teenagers to arrive and save the world instead? To say nothing of how his power and responsibility are framed as sacrifices, not something he sought out. Ironwood doesn’t want to be the sole ruler here. His desperate relief at having allies again proves it. Good setup for the rise of a dictator would have been Ironwood being cagey with his information and exerting control over the group... not telling them everything, not giving them more power, not letting them keep the Lamp, not taking arrest off the table so as to keep them in line, and generally doing the opposite of everything he did do to share that responsibility and power. RWBY got very good at giving us the first half of these red flags — he has an army, he’s stubborn, he’s hurting Mantle, etc. — but then time and time again introduced a context that changed that flag dramatically: they are fighting literal monsters, he’s no more stubborn than our title character, hurting Mantle is a consequence of a plan he thinks will help the whole world and our heroes back this. Those who insist that Ironwood was 100% a villain in the making (or a villain already) prior to shooting Oscar are working from their assumption of what his archetype represents, not what RT actually put on screen. Because RT is just really bad at writing a dictator character. They didn’t have the skill to manage someone who only appeared good on the surface, let alone a character with the complex nuance of wielding “coolness” to their advantage, which is why in Volume 8 they had to resort to cartoon villainy with literal, evil spotlights. It’s not that the audience is too dumb to pick up on those red flags, it’s that RT couldn’t manage to plant them without continually introducing valid justifications. You can’t say, “Bringing an army is a bad thing. Look at this dictator coding!” without me going, “Yeah, except in the fictional world you created an army does not represent the problems it does in our real life societies. This isn’t a guy amassing soldiers to go after oil, he’s trying to protect people from monsters. Not even metaphoric monsters acting as stand-ins for a minority group. Literal, evil monsters!” RWBY ignores its own context and a good chunk of the fandom ignored it too.

The problem with that (besides the general frustration of someone ignoring parts of canon to forward a particular reading) is that the fandom’s go-to claim is that everything is meaningful — and it’s a reading the writers very much support. Fans do not, as the above attests, push for a simple reading of, “Don’t think too hard about it. Just take the surface reading and run with it” which, while still frustrating, would have at least been a valid stance. Rather, they insist very strongly that nuance and depth are what drive the show. From the song lyrics to a tiny detail in the opening, everything is important and if you don’t accept that then you can’t appreciate RWBY’s complexity.

“Okay,” I said. “Then in that case Ironwood coming around to Ozpin’s position is meaningful too? Glynda — one of our best and most faultless characters — supporting him is meaningful? Flipping his gun, defending Weiss, Qrow writing to him, the group working with him for months on end... all of it is meaningful to his characterization? You said so yourself.”

“No, no, no,” comes the reply. “He’s just bad. But he’s also nuanced. He’s tricked you into thinking he’s a good person by acting kind sometimes, by getting support sometimes, but none of that is true. His actions are what matter and his actions are simplistically bad.”

“Ohhhh. So then does that mean this story is really about the creation of a villain?”

“Huh?”

“Well, Ruby. She’s ‘nuanced’ in the same way. She acts kind sometimes and gets support, but her actions are terrible. She endangered an entire city because she couldn’t wait to see if Ironwood got his letter. She condemned Ozpin for keeping secrets about Salem and then kept those same secrets just two days later. When the kingdom was under attack she sat around drinking tea, crying on a staircase, just hoping someone would come fix things for her — all while actively sabotaging the one person who was trying to save people, even if that action seems silly to us (let’s fly really high). So if we’re looking at the impact of someone’s actions outside of their intent, as we just did with Ironwood, then she’s a bad guy too, yeah?”

“No! She’s the hero!”

“... these characters don’t know she’s the hero from a meta perspective. If we’re supposed to judge the meaning of RWBY based on these details — ”

“But it’s not just the details. It’s also the allusions. Everyone in RWBY is based on another person or character. It’s very complex and that inspiration drives their story, so if you don’t have that information it’s no surprise you’re confused. For example, this is why Penny had to get a human body. That’s what happened to Pinocchio!”

“Oh! So then Ironwood is destined to be a good guy!”

“What?”

“Well, you just said the allusions drive their stories, right? The whole point of the Tin Man is that he always had a heart and just needed to realize that. So clearly — “

“No! He’s supposed to be a classic dictator, he’s only bad!”

And ‘round and ‘round we go. RWBY’s writing is atrocious yet the fandom pushes this narrative that it’s all a complex, multi-layered story that requires taking every part into account to understand the “real” message... but when you try to do that with certain characters like Ozpin and Ironwood it’s, “No, actually, they’re just simple archetypes of Bad Men.” Nuance exists for the bees, but not other ships. It exists for the characters fans like, but not the ones they don’t. And RWBY’s inspirations have to predict the ending for this character... but not that other character. It’s a nonsense grab bag!

Fans are right that Ironwood had a lot of red flags to set up this downfall. Fans are also right that those red flags were severely undercut, thus reversing their impact. Fans are right that Ironwood becomes a 100% bad guy who kills because he can and threatens to bomb a city. Fans are also right that this characterization feels absurd for Ironwood, both in terms of his morality and his intelligence (how does bombing Mantle help you now??) Ironwood is badly written. He was badly written in 7 and 8, if he was always meant to be a dictator in the making then he was badly written in 2-6, and he’s conclusively badly written when it comes to lacking a backstory and a canonical semblance — two things are are supposedly driving all of this characterization. That’s the answer: not that he’s good, or bad, but that RWBY can’t write a consistent character, let alone a nuanced one, so it’s no surprise the fandom can’t decide on anything. What’s there to decide on? It’s that nonsense grab bag. In a different show I think making the dictator appear cool would be a crucial bit of commentary, but RWBY doesn’t have the skill to pull that off.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas #Anonymous

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witharsenicsauce · 5 years ago

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Chosen Stories From the War #15: Love, Friendship, Family

(Content Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of domestic violence and physical/emotional abuse)

Bhandasura stared into his reflection in the mirror. His blue eyes were sunken, his neck nearly broken and bruises blooming on his cheeks. Behind him, Camazotz was standing like a barricade against Abyzou’s unceasing wrath. He could feel his lovers battling between their minds, screaming at each other without saying anything.

In a moment of frustration, Abyzou grabbed one of her trinkets-a golden necklace in the shape of a star-and hurled it at Camazotz. It whizzed past his head and cracked the mirror Bhandasura was gazing into, just like the action cracked her wrist and she dropped to the floor, screaming.

“Well, now look what you have done!” Camazotz gloated above her.

“YOU SHUT UP!” She glared at him. “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

“How did I do this, Abyzou? Did I make you attack Bhanda? You did that, all by yourself.”

“Curse you!” Abyzou straightened up, getting into Camazotz’s face. “Curse the very day I met you!”

“And curse the day I fell for you!” Camazotz’s anger made Bhandasura shiver. “I wish you’d crawl into a hole like the leech you are!”

“You say that, but come the hours passing, you shall be begging for my bed again!” Abyzou hissed.

“Hush.” Bhandasura closed his eyes. “Both of you.”

“Stay out of this.” Camazotz snapped at him.

“Do I not get a say anymore?” Bhandasura drew himself up and turned to them. “Forget not that I, too, have the blood of a Madron. You cannot give me orders.”

To that, Abyzou actually relented, stepping back, while Camazotz drew closer to him. “Was it not I who stopped her from killing you, Bhanda? Are you going to side with her again like you always do?”

“No…” Bhandasura placed his icy hands on Camazotz’s bony shoulders. “Are you two forgetting that this is not simply a marriage, but a partnership?”

Both Abyzou and Camazotz were silent.

Bhandasura’s body heaved. “I could not imagine a world in which I live without either of you.” He reached for Abyzou’s broken wrist, cradling it gently. “When we hurt each other...we hurt ourselves.”

The red sand of Sedona, Arizona reflected back the light of the rising sun that painted the sky purple, green, blue and red. The Avenger had settled into a large prairie at the bottom of a ravine, resting her wings under the shade of old evergreen trees.

Malinalli took a deep breath of the early morning air, running her hands through her curly hair. “Ahhh! Smell that breeze!”

“It is lovely.” Dhar-Mon yawned, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Their boots clacked against the metal floor of the Avenger dock as they stepped out onto the prairie grass. Even this early in the morning, it was clear the day was brewing to be a hot one, and Dhar-Mon suddenly understood why Malinalli had woken him up this early.

She was bright eyed and bushy tailed, beckoning him to follow her towards a more forested area. “So, where should we go to train? Do we need a wide open space?”

“No, not yet.” He assured her. “I will start you with simple techniques.” He looked around. “A place to sit would be quite ideal.”

“Maybe some rocks or a patch of leaves.” Malinalli rushed forward into the trees lining the ravine, and Dhar-Mon had to jog to keep up with her. She seemed to move effortlessly over such difficult terrain.

“Are you certain you do not see combat?!” He shouted, and she ran back and took his hand, helping him up a steep rock.

“Sorry.” She chuckled.

“Do not leave me.” He meant to sound gruff, but the softness of his voice surprised him, and even moreso did the look she gave him.

“I’d never do that.” She cleared her throat. “Um, here’s a grassy patch! Lets sit here.”

They stopped under the partial shade of some trees, the sun of the prairie still beating on them from the side, but it was much more bearable now. Malinalli scooted forward, wide eyed with expectation.

He chuckled. “So what can I teach you, little phantom, that you do not already know?”

“How to use psionics would be a start.” She chuckled.

He thought for a moment. “To use psionics is to be in harmony with one’s own mind.” He held his hands out. “You humans have more power within just one cell than you truly know. All you must do is access it.”

“So anyone can learn it?” Malinalli asked as she took his hands.

“...Yes…” He said hesitantly. “But for some, it is easier.”

“Like having perfect pitch.”

He nodded. “You are...gifted.” He added. “This power comes naturally to you. Had you ever used it before we met?”

Malinalli thought for a moment, her eyes staring at the shadows on the ground. “...Not...in any way that was meaningful.”

“Define meaningful.”

She looked up.

“Perhaps you were using your gift.” He smiled. “You simply did not know it.”

Malinalli giggled. “Okay, Professor Madron. How about you show me how to read minds?”

“Read the thoughts of those who would be hidden?” He raised a brow. “How forward of you.”

“I figure I’ll at least be able to tell if Vicky is bitching behind my back again.” She chuckled jovially.

He smirked and took both of her hands. “Let us begin, then. Tell me what I am thinking.”

She faltered. “...Um...you’d rather be asleep right now?”

“Well, I had said that as we were leaving the ship.” He chuckled. “In your early days, you will not be able to enter an unwilling mind. Later I shall teach you how, if you desire, but that...is dangerous in and of itself.”

“But I can read a willing mind?” She asked.

“With sufficient practice.” He nodded. “Close your eyes, Malinalli.”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the fresh, green air, and after a moment he followed her.

Gur-Rai sauntered down the hall, towards the Avenger’s large, now open garage. Even in the early morning, people were beginning to rise, milling about with cups of coffee in hand. Some looked half-asleep, others looked like they’d just binged on one too many cups of liquid energy and were getting the jitters.

He heard the clatter of a wrench, and turned to see just the girl he was looking for. “Lily Shen.” He called.

She turned away from the tool cabinet, looking at him somewhat in shock. “Oh. Hi Darkstrider…” She smiled at him, but looked...nervous.

“How formal.” He chuckled. “Ready to go fix up a bike?”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for all the tools we’ll need.” She turned back to the cabinet. “Dirtbikes haven’t been used in a while, so I’m a little worried we won’t have all the parts for one.”

“Well, let’s burn that bridge when we get to it~” Gur-Rai clapped, and Lily seemed to flinch.

“Oh-kay.” She handed him a toolbox. “Well I’m ready when you are....”

He followed her down the hall, away from the garage and down a ladder towards a basement area right below, so close to the ground they were practically touching it. The workspace was dusty, but some parts had been brushed off recently, where Shen had been poking around. Some wires were laying near a puddle of spilled oil, and Gur-Rai kicked them away, lest they start a fire.

Shen made her way over to a corner, where a huge sheet covered a monstrous contraption, keeping it hidden from view. “God, no one’s touched this thing since…” She trailed off. “...It’s been at least 20 years.”

“Then this is a true relic.” Gur-Rai chuckled, taking a corner of the cloth. “Ready?”

“Sure.” Lily took hold of the other corner. “One, two, three!”

They yanked, and with a shower of dust, the tarp came flying off.

Shen made a face. “Yikes…”

Gur-Rai had to agree with her, it certainly was a yikes. It was basically a frame at this point, the casing lying on the ground, with wires sticking out from those pieces that were still hanging on for dear life.

“I’d imagined it would be…” Gur-Rai trailed off.

“Functional?”

“Bigger.”

Shen looked him up and down. “...Oh. Yeah…” She put her hands in her hips. “Well, since we basically have to rebuild this thing from scratch anyway, adjusting the pedals shouldn’t be too hard.” She knelt beside the bike. “God, where do we even start?”

“From the bottom.” Gur-Rai grabbed a wrench from the tool box. “That’s what I always do when face with a challenge~”

“I really hope you aren’t talking about sex.” Shen sighed.

“Lily, you wound me. I am a man of culture.” He winked.

“Mhm, sure.” She picked up a crowbar and began to yank the loose plates away from the frame. “I’ve heard the stories, Darkstrider, I think everyone has. You got around, even when the Elders had a hold on you.”

“What can I say? Humans are just too great a temptation.” He knelt beside her, getting to work on unscrewing some of the rusted bolts.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all.” Shen grumbled.

“It was all consensual, I assure you.”

The look she gave him made it clear she doubted his words, and his smile dropped.

“I may be an asshole, but I’m no monster, Lily.” He insisted.

“No monster, huh? What about all the people you killed?”

“With the Elders screaming at me in the back of my head, I really had no choice in that matter.” He sighed. “The most you can do is become numb to the killing after a while. But the passion of holding a living person…” He shook his head. “No. That’s special. That’s not something you force.”

She looked up at him silently for a moment. “...You ever been in love, Darkstrider?”

“Oh yes.” He nodded.

“For real?”

“Of course. There have been a few special ones.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Any of them tried to get you to quit ADVENT? Run off together like in the movies?”

He took a breath. “Hm...one did. The others; I think they wanted to.”

“Did you want to?”

“Lily.” He smirked. “If I didn’t want to leave the Elders, I wouldn’t be here. I would have done ANYTHING to get away from THEM.”

The casing clattered to the floor as Shen’s crowbar finally pried it free. “You really hated them that much?”

“Yes.” He tossed the rusty, useless screws over his shoulder.

“I’m certainly not objecting to that, but...how come you, of all people?”

He paused, his body involuntarily clenching up and his breath becoming caught in his chest. He swallowed and tried to smile, but to Shen he looked more nauseous. “They were shitty parents, let's say that.”

Shen nodded. “...Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He looked away, hoping she couldn’t see the look on his face.

“Well, hey, tell me about one of your lovers.” She said. “Anyone stick out in your mind?”

“Oh, that’s a toughie. They were all so wonderful.” He chuckled. “...Oh, I know. There was one woman, about...four years ago. Her name was Donna Hall.”

“Yeah? What was she like?”

He smiled wistfully. “She was incredible. Bright red hair, little button nose, and these deep brown eyes, sharp as an eagle. She could see anything, you know. Nothing got past her.” He was now only half-focused on the bike in front of him, his screwdriver hanging loose in his hand. “She was part of a tiny resistance group in Canada. They were taken out by ADVENT, and she and her little family were rounded up and brought to a torture facility.” He smiled. “And I just happened to be there that day, browsing the specimens.”

Shen raised a brow.

“When she caught my eye, I knew that if ADVENT took her, they’d sand her down, wear away those beautiful features and make her a clone like all the others.” He added. “You’ll never find her name in ADVENT’s database, Lily, because I took her with me before they could even think of booking her.”

“So...you ‘saved’ her?” Shen emphasized that word.

“In a sense.”

“How noble. What’d you do with her after that?” Shen said in an accusatory tone, crossing her arms.

“I brought her to my stronghold.” He smirked. “Gave her a room.”

“That’s it? Really?” Shen’s lip was curled upward slightly.

“Really, Lily. Don’t you trust me? Actually, don’t answer that.” He chuckled. “I thought of probing her for info, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt that pretty mind. So I just...kept her around. We would talk. Eventually she started talking more. Laughing more. She opened up to me, and I to her...and every day, we would go hunting.”

Shen’s face softened. “Hunting?”

“Of course. She was a game hunter, and, well.” He gestured to himself. “What’s a name for, really?”

“What’d you guys hunt?”

“The Elders’ little pets.” He chuckled. “Chile had a large population of Chryssalids that had run off into the wild. And she LOVED hunting them…” His eyes grew distant. “The hours we spent out there felt like minutes...I think that was the first time I felt truly immortal…”

Shen nodded. “She does sound fun.”

“She gave me a run for my money more than once.” He laughed. “Lost more than one bet to her...and I spent more time in her room than I did in my own.” He stopped, his face growing very sad. “I really wanted to spend forever with her.”

Shen held the silence for a moment. “...Did she...die?”

He shook his head. “No, she didn’t die. I let her go.”

“You let her go?!”

“Yep.”

Shen blinked in utter disbelief. “Weren’t the Elders mad?”

“Technically the Elders didn’t know I had her.” He smirked, but it looked painful. “I knew they would find out sooner or later though, so I...turned her loose, so to speak.”

“And she just...left?”

“She always wanted to leave.” He chuckled. “She begged me to go with her, too, but...I knew it’d only be a matter of time. I still had my collar.” He tapped the back of his head, where the chip used to be. “The Elders would find us. She’d never be safe.”

“So you...let her walk away.”

“If you love something, set it free.” He nodded. “And to be honest, Lily, I don’t regret it. Because I just know she’s still out there, fucking up ADVENT’s day, and that’s all I ever wanted~”

Up at dawn, as usual, the Shrinemaiden clasped her hands and breathed in the still morning air. The windows of the Avenger filtered in the orange light of the rising sun, casting it in a rainbow across the floor of her bedroom. She felt peaceful.

Until there was a knock on her door.

Kon-Mai opened her eyes, blinking at the sudden disturbance. Neither of her brothers had the tendency to awaken as early as she did so it was unlikely it was one of them. Perhaps Tygan? Or Bradford?

The person knocked again, and Kon-Mai rose from her lotus position, made her way to the opposite end of the room, and slid the door open. “...Betos.”

“Mordenna.” Betos nodded, her face cold. “Or should I call you Shrinemaiden?”

Kon-Mai hesitated at the coldness in her voice. “Is there something I can do for you, Captain?”

“Yes, there is. I have a patrol I’d like you to join today.”

Kon-Mai cocked her head. “Is that an order?”

“...No.” Betos hesitated. “But it is a strong recommendation.”

“Does the Commander know about this?”

“She does.” Betos crossed her arms. “I told her of my intentions last night.”

Kon-Mai grimaced warily. Something was not right here, but...she WAS trying to earn Betos’ trust, was she not? “Will it just be us?”

“No.” Betos smiled, but it was more of a scowl. “My own team will be joining us.”

“What will we be doing?”

“Patrolling the perimeter.”

“I will need time to prepare.”

Betos sighed. “Meet me outside, by the small cliff face to the west of the prairie. Do not take long, I have many people waiting for you.”

Kon-Mai nodded, and Betos turned and left, leaving Kon-Mai standing there, bewildered.

With her spindly fingers, Abyzou picked up her amulet, the golden one shaped like a star. Her wrist was still sore and stiff, but handling the necklace carefully, turning it over and over, it felt warm against her cold skin, and gave her a bit of relief.

“I am sorry.” She whispered, to no one in particular, but a presence behind her alerted her as she finished speaking.

“Do not apologize, lau Mordenna.” Reue’s soft essence behind her made her startle, and Abyzou turned to look at the smaller, weaker, younger Elder.

“...It is only you?” Abyzou seemed to sigh, and reached out her gangly hands to the younger’s face. Her red-tipped fingers grazed fragile skin, and Reue’s scratches bled purple ichor.

“I came to help you.” Despite the injury dealt, she seemed to relax in Abyzou’s presence. “Do you need me…?”

“I always need you, Reue.” Abyzou crooned. “Come, help me from my robes.”

“You want me to...undress you, lau Mordenna?”

Abyzou could feel Reue’s fear, and it made her shiver with delight. The poor girl was so utterly useless. “Yes, I do. Now help me quickly, I want to rest.”

Gently, Reue used her own bony hands to untangle Abyzou’s lithe figure from her robes, lifting the helmet from her head so her skin might be free. The wispy cloth floated to the ground like petals on the wind, and Abyzou’s grey, unworldly form was revealed.

When Elder Abyzou looked at herself in the mirror, she saw not the daughter of Shamash, who carried the blood of kings, and not a mother of six children, three of whom were dead: but the weathered body of a corpse that should have stopped moving years ago. She saw a dead woman whose time was running short.

When Reue looked at Abyzou, she saw her queen, her Mordenna, the daughter of the sun and the woman who would lead them to immortality.

“Do you think I am beautiful?” Abyzou asked her.

Reue froze. “...Of course, lau Mordenna.”

“But do you mean it?” Abyzou looked back at her, and as she turned, Reue could see scars across Abyzou’s stomach, angry and twisted.

She looked away. “Of course I do.”

“Of course you do.” Abyzou pressed one cold hand into Reue’s cheek. “You understand...” She turned away. “...Did you ever have children, Reue?”

Reue seized up at the painful question. “...Only one…”

“Only one.” Abyzou echoed. “Well then you did your duty, Reue. You must be proud of yourself.”

“Oh...I am.”

Abyzou seemed to hum. “Of course you are. As I am, for the ones who live.” She mused. “Even if they betray me, even if they forget me, they still live by the sweetness of my hand. It is my blood that runs within their veins.” She looked back at Reue. “Who was your child?”

“A girl.” Reue said softly, painfully. “Named Oxum-Loba.”

“What a beautiful name.” Abyzou ran her hand over one, prominent scar on her chest, in the shape of a circle. “Did you foster her yourself?”

“I did. We were poor, lau Mordenna, we had no one else.”

“That is admirable.” Abyzou clenched her fists and Reue could hear her joints cracking. “I fostered my first three children as well...and gave them everything I had.” Abyzou’s tone grew dark. “I gave them everything.”

“Of course you did.”

“And yet, they all abandoned me.” She hissed. “I am the mother of six children, Reue, three who exist beyond the void, and three who have died in treachery.”

“Kon-Mai is not dead, lau Mordenna.” Reue said hopefully. “Maybe she will come back to you.”

“Oh she will.” Abyzou growled. “She cannot ignore the gifts of her mother. She cannot abandon her family.” Abyzou turned away from Reue, moving back towards the coffin that was her bed. “She knows her calling.”

Malinalli’s mind was chaotic, blinding and dancing with luminous color. it felt like gazing into a supernova. Dhar-Mon was hit with a burst of heat, then light behind his eyes. He faltered for a bit and almost let go of her hands, but held on.

“Your first lesson…” He grunted out loud. “Never remove yourself suddenly from another’s mind. It could...hurt you very much.”

“Okay…” She held tight to his hands.

Dhar-Mon braced himself against the brightness yet again, only for it to flare and cause him to nearly buckle. “Your mind is very...active.”

“I’m sorry.” Malinalli said, and Dhar-Mon felt the light dim and the heat turn cool. “I guess I was excited…”

He chuckled, the swirls of blue and green now much more bearable to look at.

“So, what am I thinking?” Malinalli giggled.

Dhar-Mon stared into the cloud of colors for a moment, watching the patterns forming and twisting. “...You are…” He raised a brow. Now that the brilliance of her excitement had died, he could see the mists of her mind forming new messages. “You are not hopeful of your abilities. You believe you are setting yourself up for disappointment.”

Malinalli gasped and tried to pull away, but he held her hands firm.

“I am sorry. Don’t fret, I am here.” He took a deep breath, and saw anxiety join her thoughts. “You think I will be disappointed.”

He heard her whimper, and squeezed her hands gently.

“I just…” She was anxious, her mind frantically searching for words.

“You still believe your powers are weak.” He chuckled. “Even though you brought me back from the dead?”

She was silent at that, and he saw the clouds in her mind grow dark.

“I am sorry.” He rubbed his fingers over her hand. “I say so to encourage you. You are capable of so much, little phantom.”

“How can you be sure?”

He released his mind, letting his own muscles relax, letting her into his thoughts.

“What do I think?” He asked.

He felt her tremble. “I don’t know.”

“Look into my mind.” He said gently. He tried to make his own feelings as clear as possible. “What do you see?”

She was silent for a moment, but he could feel her slip into his own consciousness. “It’s...purple. No, blue…” She sniffled again. “And green. It’s very misty. I can’t see very well.”

“Those are patterns of thought, of feeling and emotion. The mind does not need language to communicate.” He tried to summon up a happy thought, though it was hard to think of one. Finally he settled: he imagined his sister beside him, her fingers tracing his hand, bushing his hair away from his eyes as he awoke to her smile. “Now. What do you see?”

“The mist is making a pillar...kind of. No...a box? A triangle?”

“What color is it?”

“It’s...bright. Warm colors, yellow and green are the two big ones.”

“That is the shape of happiness.” He smiled, taking a breath and bringing up another memory: his father Bhandasura, appearing before him like an apparition of doom, his hand outstretched as Dhar-Mon’s mind was torn asunder that fateful day.

“Oh my-!” Malinalli gasped. “It collapsed! It’s...like a puddle? No, like a claw!”

“That is despair.” Dhar-Mon felt his own voice trembling, and cleared his throat. “Now, when I think of you, what image do you see?” He focused on the feel of her hands in his, and remembered the first time he saw her face. He remembered her singing, sitting by the river. He remembered the touch of her hand, the light in her eyes when she smiled at him, the sun reflecting off her copper skin, her smile, the desperation to reach her, the warmth of her arms as he lay dying…

“Oh…!” She cried. “It’s...so beautiful!”

“What is it?”

“It’s...a flower. Blooming from a seashell. It explodes and...now it’s a star. And the sun. And...it keeps moving, pulsating, bigger and smaller. The seashell is still attached.”

Dhar-Mon hesitated, his heart racing.

“What does it mean?” She asked.

“Well…” He fumbled for the words. “...It’s trust and...admiration. It means that...I am fully confident in you, Malinalli.” He hoped she could not feel his uncertainty. It wasn’t technically a lie.

Kon-Mai stepped into the rising sunlight, out on the grass and sand of the Arizona prairie. The trees were sparse and the grass under her feet became sand as she grew closer to the shallow cliffs. Betos was nowhere to be found.

She looked back at the Avenger, which was still in sight, in fact she could see people moving in the windows. They waved to her occasionally. She waved back.

“So you did come.”

Kon-Mai gasped, whipping around in surprise. There stood Betos, alone.

“Of course I did.” Kon-Mai grumbled.

“Hmph.” Betos still eyed her with suspicion, but she nodded and Kon-Mai took that as a good sign. “Follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“I have something to show you, Shrinemaiden.” Betos said her name with vexation.

“We are getting far from the ship.” She looked back at the Avenger as they began to climb the slight incline of the sandy hills.

“Yes.” Betos said. “It’s not far.”

Kon-Mai’s hand moved to the dagger in her belt, ensuring it was still there. It was.

The prairie grass turned to rocky desert and sand, as the ground beneath their feet began to slope upward more and more. Kon-Mai looked around at the disappearing vegetation. “Where is the patrol?”

“Ahead.” Betos said.

“Where are you taking me?” Kon-Mai demanded.

Betos stopped, looking back at the Chosen woman. “I sense you don’t trust me.”

Kon-Mai stood her ground. “You act suspicious.”

“It is you who I should be suspicious of.” Betos snapped. “And yet I am about to show you something sacred, Mordenna. You should hold your tongue, until you know how to use it.”

Kon-Mai growled but fell silent, following Betos across the cliffs. The Skirmisher woman hadn’t betrayed her yet, she supposed. She had no reason to think she would...

There were footsteps before them, and voices talking. She recognized the deep, throaty tones of Etheric, but the dialect was more twangy, spoken on the tongue.

“Savitr!” Betos called. “We have arrived.”

From behind the scrawny trees, three Skirmishers appeared, a man and two women, each in their haphazard armor, each with uncertainty in their eyes as they saw Kon-Mai.

Betos turned to Kon-Mai. “They will lead us to the village.”

“...Village?” Kon-Mai looked around. “What are you speaking of?”

“Betos, are you sure this is a good idea?” The man asked.

“I am.” She replied. “If you wish to earn your title, Shrinemaiden, you must witness not just the humans’ customs, but ours as well.” She nodded to the group and moved ahead of them, descending the red cliffs into the canyon below.

Kon-Mai bowed to them, humbling herself. “I am sorry. I didn’t realize we were going to your home…”

The male Skirmisher’s golden eyes followed her as she moved, and he held her gaze for several moments before he returned her bow.

“Follow me.” He nodded. “I am Savitr Vallinor.” He gestured to the women by his side. “These are my sisters, Nitocris, and Tanith.”

“I am Kon-Mai Mordenna.” She bowed to them. “Lead, and I shall follow.”

He turned his back on her, hesitantly, and led her down into the canyon.

“And then there was Alejandro.” Gur-Rai blew a whistle. “He had an 8-pack, a very sexy accent, and boy could he eat ass.”

Shen snorted as she laughed. “That’s so gross!”

“Hey, I don’t poop, remember?” He shrugged. “No reason it’d be gross!”

“Still!” Shen covered her face. “God! Okay, I’m done. Go on.”

“He and I went back and forth for a year, at least, maybe more. He lived in the city center as an insurance salesman-”

“ADVENT had insurance?”

“Technically they did. It was a worthless product from a company that was pretty much a government front, but the office was a great hookup spot~” Gur-Rai winked. “Sometimes I’d spend whole weeks over at his apartment. He’d cook for us, we’d chill, I’d lay around being a lazy ass, it kinda felt like we were married sometimes.”

“What happened to him?”

“Well.” Gur-Rai smiled sadly. “The Elders found out about he had some psionics in him and...spirited him away.”

“Oh...right the...missing civilians.” She sighed. “Do you know where they took him?”

“Lily, they’d never tell me.” He growled. “They knew about us…it’s why they took him.”

Shen sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Lily. Besides...It’s nice to remember all of them.” He stood up. “We’ve been making progress this whole time, haven’t we?”

Shen looked over her work. “I think that one combuster is still on the verge of exploding and the seat is way too low for you.”

“What time is it?” Gur-Rai asked, tossing the oil cloth over his shoulder.

“Um…” Shen checked her watch. “Quarter to 11. Wow, time really flew.”

“It does that when you have fun.” Gur-Rai extended his hand. “Care to join me for a beer?”

“Not if it’s a date, you aren’t my type.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Really, I’d just hate to leave the conversation hanging. You’re a very fun person to talk to, Doctor Shen.”

She smiled and took his grip, pulling herself to her feet. “Fine then, I’ll come along and you can tell me all about the vipers.”

“Oh, looking are we?”

“Nope, but some of the soldiers won’t shut up about them.” She chuckled as they walked off. “I assume you’ve-”

“Oh, many times.” He chuckled. “So Lily, what IS your type?”

“Electroactive polymers.” She said.

Elder Kompira’s skilled fingers danced over the forge, molding the superheated metal without even laying a finger on it. It was literal magic, and spellbinding to all who witnessed it. Even the Higher Elders would stop by to watch Kompira work.

Camazotz stood in the archway, gazing upon the younger Elder with intrigue in his eyes as he watched Kompira work. “You have incredible hands, Dessurik.”

Kompira nodded. “Thank you, lau Madron.”

“Mind if I give it a try?” Camazotz drifted forward and leaned over the workbench, blocking Kompira’s view and forcing him to set the metal aside.

“Madron I...am not sure that’s a good idea.” Kompira’s aura was always soft and meek, even moreso than Reue’s, but it was also always calm. This kind of nervous sputtering his body was emitting was unlike him.

“Of course it is a good idea! It is MY idea!” Camazotz grabbed the metal, pulling it towards him in black and purple smoke.

“Please be careful, Madron, it’s very hot! You could burn yourself!” Kompira cried, his hands shaking as he tried to reach out and protect the Elder from his own foolish decision.

“Are you patronizing me?” Camazotz demanded. “I am your superior!”

Kompira faltered. “That is true, Madron, but I have been working with metals since the birth of Andromeda. It is a delicate process-”

“Do not think you know better than I, lowly Dessurik!” Camazotz snapped.

“Madron, I do this because I care about you!”

That, finally, made Camazotz stop, contemplating his next move. He turned his eyes on Kompira, amusement apparent in his face.

“Care about me?” Camazotz chuckled. “What a scandalous thing to say, Kompira. I am wedded, you know.”

“That is not my intention, Madron…” Kompira was shaking. “I care for you like I would family or…”

Camazotz cocked his head. “Or a friend?”

“Yes…” Kompira clasped his hands. “And as your friend, I cannot allow you to take your health so frivolously! You are too dear to me, to this cause!”

Camazotz nodded, and put the melted puddle of metal back in it’s rightful place within the forge. “Yes, Kompira.” He patted his subordinate’s cheek harshly. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

Kompira relaxed noticeably. “Yes, Madron, of course we are.”

“Good.” With barely a flick of his frail wrist, Camazotz dealt a sickening blow across Kompira’s face. The slap rang out through the smithery, echoing in the metal halls and knocking Kompira to the ground., where the Ethereal lay crumpled, gasping in pain.

Camazotz laced his fingers together and leaned over Kompira’s fallen form. “A true friend would never doubt me.”

The village was large, possibly larger than what could be considered a village. In fact, it looked more like a small town. Savitr led Kon-Mai in through the front gates, where several small clusters of Skirmishers were milling about, out of armor and attending to seemingly mundane tasks.

The bright, hot sun of Arizona beat down upon them all, and Kon-Mai saw many of them were scarcely clothed, walking around in shorts with bare chests and minimal footwear. Even most of the women had done as the men did and ditched their shirts, opting to leave their chests exposed. Kon-Mai nearly reeled back at the sight, but stopped herself. Her own reaction drew a chuckle of amusement from her lips. In the face of their release from ADVENT, these people truly had found freedom, she supposed.

When the people saw her, they stopped what they were doing and stared at her, whispering to each other, keeping their distance. Some ran inside, closing the doors of buildings and slamming shutters. Some, in contrast, ran out to stare at her, as though she were…

An alien.

“Did they know I was coming?” Kon-Mai asked Savitr.

“They had known you left ADVENT.” He said. “However, many are...still hesitant.”

She nodded. She couldn’t blame them, after all. She even recognized some of them: she’d seen them in battle before. They were scared with cuts and lashes, and she recognized those marks. For she had made them

There was a commotion to her right, and a woman yelled out in broken Etheric “Ismene! Do not tagh nukju vau!”

There was a thump against Kon-Mai’s leg, and she looked down in bewilderment.

A very small Skirmisher stood at her feet. It looked up at her with huge, innocent yellow eyes, it’s head adorned with a red bow that was wrapped around it’s skull, matching the red jumper it wore.

“What...are you?” Kon-Mai murmured in shock.

Savitr turned to her. “What do you mean?”

Kon-Mai backed up a bit, and the small Skirmisher reached out and grabbed at her pants. “My name is Ismene!” It chirped in a small voice, scratchy like the others, but high and soft. “You are pretty, what is your name?”

Kon-Mai looked to Savitr, trembling. “Why is it so small? Is it deformed?”

He laughed. “No no, Mordenna. SHE is a child.”

Kon-Mai looked down at Ismene again, who was tapping her foot expectantly.

“Your kind can have children?” Her heart was racing, but she didn’t know why as she knelt before the child. “...Hello, little one...”

“Hi.” Ismene smiled wide, revealing a few missing teeth.

“How old are you...?” Kon-Mai felt a strange warmness filling her body as she spoke. The sight of this little one filled her with a feeling old and long forgotten, but so familiar.

Ismene held up nine of her fingers. “I am almost nine years old!” She said proudly.

“Nine years old…” Kon-Mai chuckled. “I am nine years old as well.”

Ismene blinked, then giggled. “No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am.” Kon-Mai returned her bright smile. The child’s happiness was infectious.

“No, you’re not!” Ismene giggled. “You are too tall!”

“I am tall.” Kon-Mai chuckled. “Any you are very short~”

“I am not!” Ismene stomped her foot.

“Yes you are. I can barely see you from up here.” Kon-Mai giggled at her reaction.

“Well, when I get older, then I will be tall like you!”

Kon-Mai raised a brow. “As tall as me?” She rose to her full eight-foot height. “Are you certain?”

Ismene was not deterred. “Yep!”

“Isme, come here!” A Skirmisher woman rushed forward and pulled the child away, bowing her head. “Jx ez nuwun sewu, Mordenna!”

“Please, do not worry.” Kon-Mai answered in English. “She was causing no harm. In fact, she is a joyous child. It was…” She met Ismene’s gaze, and that warmth filled her chest again “...a joy to meet her.”

The woman looked up, shock and wonder written on her face as Kon-Mai bowed to her.

“Goodbye, Mordenna!” The little girl called after her, waving excitedly as she and Savitr walked away.

Kon-Mai drew close to him, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You are the remains of ADVENT soldiers, are you not? How can you bear children?”

He looked up at her, irritation his face. “Do not invoke ADVENT’s name here, it will not help your case.”

“I am sorry. But you did not answer me.”

He sighed. “I do not know how. When we began to settle down, some of the soldiers wished for companionship. And that companionship led to the birth of many children.” He looked around. “The oldest are now entering their teenage years, and will start seeing battle soon.”

Kon-Mai cringed at the idea of little Ismene going into battle, against an enemy that could crush her with a thought. She was too young to see such conflict. They were all too young to see such conflict.

“How old are the new soldiers?”

“Not nearly old enough.” Savitr sighed. “But we must do what we can to protect ourselves. We cannot rely on defectors forever.”

Kon-Mai wanted to ask why more did not just leave. Then she remembered it literally took her death to break her from the Elders’ hold. “...They will need training.”

“They will.” Savitr raised a brow at her.

“I can teach them the ways of a blade, if you wish.” Kon-Mai said, almost eagerly.

Savitr seemed to hesitate, as though that comment had made him uneasy. But when he met her eyes, his face softened. “You would offer that to us?”

“If they will have me.” She clasped her hands.

Savitr laid a hand over his chin. “I am not sure they would accept you...but those who did...could learn so much from you…” He nodded. “I will discuss it with Betos.”

She nodded and looked around. “Is there any other way I can help this place, in the meantime?”

“Help? Are you offering, Mordenna?”

“I am.” She flashed her teeth in a grin.

Savitr returned it with unease. “Simply patrol the parameters with me and my sisters.” He said. “With luck, we will not need to use that blade of yours.”

Their conversation was not with words, but with shapes, colors and mist. All around them, mist and motion, mist and motion.

Malinalli stepped forward through the deep curtains of mist in Dhar-Mon’s mind. It was different from before, when their minds had been as one, when they had been psionically bonded. She retained her own body, her own thoughts, but if she looked around she could see the shapes of his mind. His thoughts formed patterns and stories without words.

“What is that?” She asked, pointing to a tall, blue pillar of mist.

“That is...duty.” He said slowly. “My sense of conviction.”

“Ah. And the red?” She pointed to a red swirl around the bottom.

“That…” He thought for a moment. “What does it look like to you?”

She concentrated on it for a moment. “...Dhar-Mon, there’s something there…”

“What is-” He broke off as a shot of pain caused him to scream. He almost ripped his hands away but Malinalli held him.

“I’m so sorry!” She cried, backing away from it. “I didn’t mean-”

Dhar-Mon was in his own mind yet again. There was darkness, the mist retreating like the ocean before a tsunami. Then, a brief flash of light, and an image crossed his field of vision, but only for a moment.

A child, with dusky skin, no more than a teenager at most, sat curled in the corner of a stark white room. He was thinner than a corpse, with patches of blue across his body where his usual dark skin was flaking and peeling off, and his hair lay around him in piles on the ground. His eyes were purple, and black where they should have been white…

Malinalli pulled him into her arms, and suddenly he was awake, conscious again. She was holding onto him, her arms around his neck as she trembled.

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” He pulled her close. “No. That was not you.” He took a shaky breath, then let it out. “...I believe we should stop for today.”

“Okay.” She whispered into his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. “I’m sorry…”

“No.” He put his hand on her back and pulled her closer. “You made such progress today, little phantom. I am proud of you…”

There was more he wanted to say, especially as she pulled away and looked him in the eyes with a smile as bright as the stars.

There was no time, down where they were. Yes, the days passed, but they could not see it. They slept for days or sometimes weeks, only to be awake again for a month.

Bhandasura was having one such bout of insomnia. He lowered his frigid body down onto the slab they called a bench, and tucked his robes around him. He hated this form, it’s limitations, it’s liability, and yet again he thought of all the ones he had known before who had ascended, leaving him behind.

“Bhanda?” A soft voice behind him said.

He sighed, cringing. “Please, Abyzou.”

He felt her move, shift to lift herself from her bed, and float over to him. “Are you still angry?”

Was he angry? He didn’t really know if “angry” described it. At the moment he simply felt sick. “Please, I do not wish to fight anymore.”

Abyzou hesitated.

“Why do you cause such grief, Abyzou?” He rose and turned to look at her. “Why do you do this to me?”

She seemed to draw back within herself. “I am so sorry, Bhanda.”

“How do I know you are sorry?” He demanded, his aura as cold as stone. Her silence left room for another, and he felt Camazotz enter the room.

“Bhanda, is she bothering you?”

“You are such a demagogue, Camazotz.” Bhandasura turned on him. “Both of you only think of yourselves.”

Camazotz looked as though he was about to turn on Abyzou, but Bhandasura had homed in on him and approached swiftly, getting in the face of the other Elder.

“You bring trouble with what you say, knowing Abyzou will react.” Bhandasura growled. “And then I get hurt. Do you know what that does to me?”

“I did not know Abyzou would…” Camazotz trailed off. “I am sorry, Bhanda.”

“You say you are, but you will do it again.” He slumped back over to their bed and lay his body upon the mattress of cold, iridescent liquid, glowing blue. “I doubt you mean what you say.”

“That is not true.” Camazotz scoffed. “Right, Abyzou?”

“Of course. I am always truthful to you, Bhanda.” She insisted.

“And yet how can I believe you?” He pressed a hand to his face. “How can I truly believe you still honor the vows you took to me?”

“Please, Bhandasura.” Camazotz fell to his knees beside the bed. “I will prove it to you.”

“As will I!” Abyzou fell beside him and gripped onto Camazotz. “We...we love you! And we love each other just as much!”

“I do not believe you.” His words rang in their minds and stung deeply.

“Tell us what to do then.” Camazotz reached for Bhandasura. “Tell us how we can…” He broke off as Bhandasura began to crawl forward, slithering like the Thin Men would, on gaunt arms and barely working legs.

“Show me.” Bhandasura pressed one hand to Camazotz’s cheek, and his own forehead to Abyzou’s. With a gentle push, he felt their minds open to him like parting water.

“I love you.” He whispered, pulling them towards the bed with him. “I love you both.”

Gur-Rai pulled off the welding mask and stepped back. “Would you look at that. I think she’s done, Lily.”

Shen followed his motions, blowing a whistle through her teeth. “Okay, I’ll admit it, I didn’t think we could pull it off. But this? This looks amazing!”

The bike’s blue casing glimmered in the setting sunlight. They’d somehow managed to fit it to be twice the size as before, Gur-Rai would have no trouble mounting it now. A high powered capacitor sat snugly in the front, and a turbo engine was tucked in the back. It looked like something out of TRON.

“With XCOM’s greatest engineers on the task? Don't be silly, Lily.” He chuckled. “This was child’s play~”

“Okay, okay, don’t hurt your back bending over to suck yourself.” Shen smirked. “But I’m flattered. Thanks.”

“Of course. I can’t wait to test it out once we’re on more even terrain.”

“Mind if I take her for a spin sometime?” Shen winked. “She is my baby too.”

“Go right ahead. I can co-parent like an adult.” Gur-Rai slapped her back and Shen stumbled. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Shen chuckled. “Hey, I think Bryni is cooking buffalo wings in the canteen tonight.”

“Didn’t you say no dates, Lily?”

“Who said anything about a date? I wanna see which one of us can finish a plate the fastest.” She grinned.

“Lily.” He smirked. “I literally do not have a stomach.”

“Well then, I guess this should be an easy win for me~”

“Oh, hold your horses, Dr. Shen.” Gur-Rai grinned, bearing his sharp teeth. “Fine. You’re on.”

“Cool! Last one there's a rotten egg!” Shen took off, with Gur-Rai close on her heels as they jogged down the hall towards the canteen, laughing and screaming like children would.

Kon-Mai sat cross legged on the roof of the little hut. Ismene and about a dozen other Skirmisher children played below her, tossing a very dangerous looking rock between them and trying to strike it with a stick. Each crack of the stick making contact with said rock sent her nerves alight with worry, and she was getting ready to dive in if someone took said rock to the face. But the way the children laughed with joy lulled her back into ease. It all felt so right…

“This is…” Kon-Mai searched for the word. “Inspiring. I am nearly jealous of your tribe.” She giggled.

“These children are the gifts of fortune.” Savitr said, gazing over her but not quite meeting her eyes. “I suppose we do have to thank the Elders for that…”

Kon-Mai growled. “I would not thank them for anything. They merely did not steal your ability to have children. They did not bless you.”

He chuckled. “I suppose that is true.” He played with the laces on his boots. “You and your brothers…”

“What of them?” She asked.

He didn’t say anything at first, and she couldn’t quite read him. His face was like hers, almost. Cold and emotionless.

“You are not like us.” He finally said. “My sisters and I were born from the same pod. We have been together all our lives.”

“What are you suggesting?” She growled.

“Did you not fight with your brothers?” Savitr asked.

She was about to snap at him, but stopped. She had fought with them, after all. For years, their conflicts had escalated, sometimes reaching all out battles. More than once she had attempted to “reign in” the other two by brandishing her weapon at them, and more than once it had ended with them fighting, literally, to the death.

And more than once, the Elders had reiterated their oath to one another. No matter how you disagree, how your anger swells, you shall do each other no harm. You are all our children. You all have our love.

They had lied about so much, they had beaten their “beloved children,” left them to die, so why did they insist on forging this bond?

Even out of their clutches, she held it. In fact, they had cultivated it even further. Out of the Elders clutches, suddenly they were not shy to engage with each other physically and emotionally. Their drive to fight was gone, all because they were free.

Why was it not so before? What else were her masters lying about?

“I’m sorry, Mordenna.” Savitr said, and Kon-Mai realized she had been silent for some time. “I did not mean to upset you.”

She finally looked up again. “My brothers and I stand in solidarity, having faced the wrath of our former masters and survived.” She nodded. “If we had any rivalry before, it disappeared when we were taken from the Elders’ grasp. We are…” She hesitated to use the word. “We are family now.”

Savitr nodded. “I am happy you have found such peace with them. They are good soldiers.” He looked back over the playing children. “The future holds promise for you, Mordenna.”

Kon-Mai looked down just as Ismene caught the rock, holding it up in the air in childlike victory.

She smiled. “I certainly hope it does.”

On their bed of silken blankets and otherworldly light, the three Elders lay within one another, hands clasped, legs entangled, Abyzou in the middle, Camazotz with his head on her stomach, and Bhandasura’s long body encircling them all.

“The future holds such promise for us.” He whispered to them. “My dearest loves.”

“Of course it does. We stand upon a foundation of friendship and trust.” Camazotz reached out and gripped Bhandasura’s shoulder.

Abyzou sighed, her cold hands wrapping around them both. “And we shall live to see our family blossom once again.”

(The moral of this story is that the Elders are all horrible people, to their very core.

It was fun to explore each Elder’s individual personality, especially when contrasting it to the Chosen, but they are all absolutely shitty in their own way, and I hope I conveyed that!)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

#xcom #xcom 2 #xcom 2 war of the chosen #xcom the chosen #chosen assassin #xcom assassin #xcom hunter #chosen hunter #xcom warlock #chosen warlock #cw: abuse #cw: domestic violence

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whatsthenameofthisgame · 4 years ago

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Intergalactic Interrogations (II)

"Where am I?"

[What do you mean?]

"Instead of just sitting there moving blood all day, and failing roughly might I add,- Are you recording this conversation? That's disrespectful, I'll have you know we started learning binary and ridiculous little facts about your friend. I don't know who raised you wrong,"

[Hey.}

"I'd- {emmited} have you forget. Speak English numb for brawl! *maybe there is a slap here*"

["Go to the top 10 close or near you everywhere you go that you consider the smartest people in the world & become their best friends foreverest...," I drawl out every one of my answers like a disgusting fountain, yet they aren't happy with any of them. To think it all could have started with a scared girl asking me what I know and warp through timespace paranoia, or that quantum mechanics has caused this all to be real.]

"Here's (apparently) what living sages do they write all of the time. And they secretly don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about them."

[I'm listening to someone write the show for me, I don't always connect parts of my brain with other parts so well, but when I don't its's because I'm completely mental that I can make things out as other sounds.]

"He inserted apparently over us. What a dick head."

[I was writing before this as well. Get ready for another roundabout of Intergalactic Interrogations]

["How would you describe this, Fake Judas(2) what kind of situation do we have here? Remember, I'm made to forget and then reremember again."]

"It's very logical. It's simple. You have to have a Marine Corp mindset in infilitrating the cause."

[I am both afraid and completely unafraid of what I am doing. To be afraid of this silly game would be ridiculous and stupid. On the other hand he's been learning from me as I learn from him-]

"He's been completely thinking ridiculous things over what we're saying. He's a whoremonger." ""IT IT,"" maybe demons scream, but I am untethered from the boulder like a chain beneath the ocean, the weight simply presses into the sand. The fishes swim around as I wander in my drowning to the top where the ship is safe in the sunlight.

[On the other hand- quantum questions pose like prose, possessing possibly - I ignore FakeJudas(2). It is hard to keep up with everything. I need a writer still. I turn to Affiliate. Please have Alliteration do her thing without guiding us into rap for hours on end again, thank you very much. Affiliate looks confused and furious, for I often thought he was on the wrong end of the job spectrum ever since our staycation in the fire bird land of no sounds, place of the falsified Gods, faces in the spaces, The Devil's home of Peter's ignorances ... Anyway where was I? It is really hard to keep up with everybody and everything. There is a whole plot line, that I feel truly matters, and we are all missing it for the amount of activity going on in all of your heads while I've got mine. Is it mine? To start. Or are all of these conversations I'm tapping into the way of the real brain. Every particle of water an ocean? Every idea a world of thought? I already thought so. It isn't time for creative freedoms. I think we are supposed to focus on my suicide. For the sake of suicide. "Aha! Where we were last standing, one of the better reasons why I have roses elegantly and unevenly tattooed on my fingers. They're both cocked and one is in my mouth outright, while the other is at you. It was in your hands, and I gave you the tools necessary to save it. Save your belly aching. Every bit of paranoia, was it real, or were you trying to induce it? Save it for the masses. I know it's always a little bit of both. And that the most obvious answer is usually the truth. Variety is the best spice- and I'll have at my dad's pizza with way too much spice, for the loving good Grace from which Moses parted the water of life into place, (I am making a Tokyo MewMew joke that is a bit elongated) the V for which has He, Friends With Time, Drawer of Lord Excalibur when I actually love myself, rainbow gay pride I've forgotten uniciorn chapter books volume one and two powers activate!) *I start to turn, /now I am not paying attention to anything as I mash jokes into my own life story./

"This is what we paid for. This is disgusting filth. Think you can handle it?"

Think you can handle it? Would Filthy Frank even read this shit right here? We didn't even pay for all of these references. We're just hoping we get so many more people on team blue than team red so that we're able to just diss the suing right out of the waters like a lotus. Hah! Get that. I'm named after water so I'm doing water jokes. Listen, kid. I have heard a lot of jokes from the demons. You really don't want to start with me. I'm trained to accept them as a compliment, which I was saying back before we were all *I'm channeling Filthy Frank's voice in a ricefields sunhat visor right here* simple and shit. Now they are even trying to insult me with compliments and it's working. Listen, you never did knew that evil was good and proper and right. There was a new face of evil on the block, and it was the face of a genius sociopathic borderline child.

"Oh my God, You really do think like you're God."

[Guess what. Bitches, I have Autism so I cannot understand the emotional connotation in your words. Knowing that, I interpret it as fast as crazy, which is why no sweat because I also know that sometimes that's exactly what you're doing. Meaning I think of many ideas and crap. Your every thought could come to me like an intellectual process. I have no way of being.]

"Do you think you're special? Stay on topic please, I've seen we've gone a little socio today lady."

["I am silent. All is the same in my canoe which is made of wood and has travelled from hell through the underground rivers to the open and vast, great sea. Cold, or hot, shivering or sweating, thirst or hunger, war, famine, fire, flood, I know that I must and can navigate through it and 'round, 'round again, for this canoe and its lantern was tethered to my soul, it was tethered to my idea of neutral state meditation through chaotic forces. I was the canoe, one could say. I was the ship. Or the wood. The wood which came from the tree. Maybe The Tree. A Tree of Time, careful creature, making friends with it. And as the tree, and with brainwaves being like a tree, and all things one in the same, I made a hollow for those beyond to perch before they fade to worlds-"]

"This is artinery, itternerary(?) Get to the point."

[Often what I say, I sort of contribute to ghosts and other things.]

"This is what we get out of you? Jesus. (What are you, Santiago?) What happened to the sainthood?"

["Indeed I am Santiago, Another one of my many names, Dare ye say it, (Which they didn't.)]

"Look at what this kid is thinking of completely loaded. I think that maybe it is hilarious. Or perhaps all his excuses for crap."

[Indeed that all of this content was now filler. JENGA was on hiatus since the before times. We cannot remember those Interrogation Negotiations. But they were amazing. We have screenshots of half of them and had to delete the better half because they were too good and terrifying. We will try to interpret the rest of them someday (soon?).]

[The prophet wasn't just an excuse I made up. It was A Dream. A Dream that one day we will live not by the color of our skin, but by the confusing and complex mental makup which propels us towards the best future for us evolutionarily. Forget about that, everything. Like you have made me, by my words, let us start from the beginning.

Two systems learning from each other causes complex interactions to occur, especially when both have different and unfair advantages over each other. One could say each part of the brain that makes up the whole is its own complex system.]

"Stop talking about them to other people. I hope they rot for what they did to those people."

[Here is a classic bit where I have the chance to explain how either The Devil or The Enemy (FakeJudas2) Might try to make me look like the culprit. Reverse Psychology. It works on me. Which is why my card is chaotic. I don't want you to know what I'm doing, and if you do, then why should it matter what I do? It seems the whole world knows and yet no one knows. God knows what nobody feels like, because he is like us, we are made in his image. If I am nobody, he is nobody. So nobody knows just as well enough as anybody knows. But in both parts give or take, there are still bodies. Lot's of bloody and mutilated bodies which The Enemy has made of my Friends' & Loved One.]

/I take le break/

Depending on how serious JENGA gets, we have to use different members of the army through me. How did we get here, how is this all possible. It is a really meaningful story with lots of science, but we do not have infinite time. I will try to get to that at most.

"What about your boyfriend,"

["For the sake of Einstein, for the sake of proving you can go from Autism to full-blown socio, that realizing the brain works in the way that it does, and that it is all of your faults for being stupid assholes. It my fault for being a stupid asshole. And God is My Judge. Not You."]

"So, are you planning on telling him about any of this, or do you not know how important he is?"

["For the sake of insanity, genius is found."]

"Are you still completely avoiding the question? And how is it that he knows we're watching him for? Does he complete God in the blood?"

[Some things I do not understand. Or remember, or reitterate well. Catch me on drugs. Dattebayo! *flashback* Dattebayo was where it all started. The ten men, pandora's box, the stories, the puzzles, the lands across, the signs, a single time fine dining, and it is also there but not completely all-there.]

"So dattebayo was where it all started, huh? How embarrassing for one so wasted on the regular."

["Never giving up. Dattebayo. Believe it." "How about the story of the modulators some more? Before or after they were modulators? I have many stories to entertain you."]

"even when the conversation is all dead he has a way of going more crazy." a girl chimes in "He's probably been listening to what we are saying and considering it as JENGA."

he continues "Tell me a story to entertain me, that is what I am here for, give me a wild ride, show me some lude-icrous, something more, vivid, that shows me your kind of ideal lifestyle."

["You sounded like the villain in Tarzan for a second there. Well that's me, Tarzan. Me. Need. Jane. Didn't think I could play her. Rub the mud on my face, ask my monkey mother why I am not like them, she says to wipe the mud off.]

"I'm getting more curious, about what you're doing... you can write more than pages, you can write a book."

[I have, it's something I've always been working on. I've written loads of books, just lost, unpublished, deleted... How about I get really high and have someone speak through me now that we're getting down to the odds and ends. Let's get to the nitty-gritty of it. Once you find a way to constantly market off of things that might bother you, you have struck gold my son. The idea however, is to make them better, not worse, so they have a reason to last through the ages. Easier said than done...]

"He/She talks like an old wheezer. They can't- Can they hear me? Can they hear over our conversations? *plethoras of someones' breathy Oh my Gods" over everything. That means they know we're here, they can really hear us! Good job,"

[Did the dialogue switch into a ghosts' narration? It is hard to tell without any figures to watch with my eyes, and the words coming with systems built into a natural Ouija of my own. I won't literally raise hell again, yet... it is always tempted. And must be avoided. We're stepping too close to stories of old. The quantum questions must be pressed. Think harder. I don't know what it is you're thinking, I'm only typing. I am a genius if we aren't psychic, and a numbskull for God if we are All One.

The modulators can be set to different configurations, and put into different settings and events to see the initial outcomes in a module. At all of the Modulators worst configurations, M for their last name is capital. A good example of perfect awful configurations is religious reenactments by a family module within my own person. One's nature is that of a dads', Two is that of a moms', Three is that of a sons', four is that of a daughters', And the configurations always leans towards the predominantly biased neutral algorithyms.

Too much math, too may graphs to come, not sure how to organize it all, so we will have to say, partay.]

"So it feels like you're being taken advantage of by everything." my best friend asks me as my mom may also paranoidly be bothering my brother about me in the distance because I am typing so fast in the middle of the night.

[We've has this conversation before, so it's GroundHog day, only bigger, it's a show.]

"That's what we've been trying to tell you, You should write a show instead of bothering, us."

["Where is Jeremy Todd Ewbank?" I am the horseman, or headless, all the numbers, and the dungeon master because we currently already have a dab master, so you can Direct Message me the answer, Because I'm the Daniel Manual you've been looking for.]

"Jeremy Ewbank is not with us anymore. He's literally done. He can barely breath from your shit."

[The interrogations go haywire as soon as they begin again. Which one of us is being interrogated. "What happened to Jeremy Ewbank. Don't make me rhyme a hundred things with master in a bad rap. Aye, you know that gurl was my princess. You know, we know, we would never let go of or throw away one another, so where is he, *I put an invisible gun, but because I have written this, I will always be paranoid of them. We have to avoid them.

Evacuation Strategies: Red dots: Fun if you're a cat, dangerous if it is a gun. Shrodinger's Gun.

I take a break from interrogations because of laziness and lack of drugs. "JENGA," I claim, and the imaginary tower falls. How to explain a thing about creative manifestation to you, about all of the wild possibilities? So hard, I'd rather play Nintendogs for three hours.]

This is breaking bread with thine enemy

#writing #crack #Intergalactic Interrogations #Intergalactic crack #Intergalactic #Interrogations

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mantra4ia · 5 years ago

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The Rise of Skywalker: Expanded Reaction Episode II (spoilers ahead)

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I must preface my opinions with the one central point of view that has never wavered: you can be a Star Wars fan and a film critic simultaneously.

Dislikes (big and small)

So in this new trilogy, does everyone know all about the secretive Sith? No one knows where Exogol-Sith-home-world is without a wayfinder. Yet some random spice traders know who the Sith are and that they have a runic language, but nearly the entire Jedi culture disappeared until the tale of Luke Skywalker revived it. This dislike is not isolated to RoS, but it's so odd considering that in the prequels and OT, the Emperor did not put the knowledge of the Sith right out in the open.

Too much telling, not enough doing. I detest plot reveals via exposition, because a majority of the time explain-y dialogue is far inferior to natural conversation. But for two-thirds of the movie, I couldn't settle into the world because I felt like I was being told a Star Wars story instead of being in it. Case point 1: Poe's argument that Rey is training instead of being on the front line to try to verbally push the narrative that she's not just naturally too-gifted. Case point 2: Explaining Force heal to the audience (via droid) after its already been demonstrated as if we can't interpret how it works. AND YET we get no planet captions? Who's advice are you listening to? Disney could spell everything else out in dialogue when it was unnecessary and borderline condescending to audience, but when it mattered you couldn't give us planetary captions so I blinked and missed the fact that we opened with Kylo Ren kicking a** and taking names on freaking Mustafar! That was a great scene. Epic. Kylo’s on a mission, and there ain’t no questing here - it’s as fast and direct as the throat punch. He’s tired of being jerked around, he’s in a position of power to demand answers, and he’s going for the head of the Emperor, all while I was like...was that Mustafar, that was Mustafar, except now we just left Mustafar. DAMMIT.

We see the repair on Kylo's mask but not the repair of Luke's saber, or Rey building her own saber? TLJ broke the most iconic lightsaber and RoS just fixed it off screen (see point above)? I suppose this shouldn't be shocking since they introduced Palpatine IN THE CRAWL, but it was disappointing.

Did like the opening crawl, did not like how it was used as Palpatine’s business card. I think my exact words were: did they really, what kind of movie am I here for?

Leia's death. I don't buy for a second that establishing a Force visitation with Kylo across the galaxy was enough to kill her. TLJ (in my opinion) demonstrated enough to establish her as a powerful force user, which Rise of Skywalker doubled down on using the flashback training scene. So no, I don't think the exertion of it was enough to take her life unless it was inferred that she either wasn't recovered from the events of TLJ or that the Force sensitive impact of Luke's death was taking an extended toll on her, or that she was somehow already overdoing it trying to use other Force abilities behind the scene to protect the resistance/ reach out to Luke. I understand that with Carrie Fisher's (rest in peace) sudden death it would make certain practical sense for Leia to die if fitting, but put all that explanatory dialogue to some good use for once and build up tension so that Leia's death makes sense.

Luke's Force ghost being underutilized. From the beginning I didn't have a problem with Luke's conclusion in Last Jedi (minus a subtle eyeroll at the noble sacrifice trope being easily confused with honor) because it doesn't bother me whether a character is living or not as long as they are still growing. I thought, I hoped, I legitimately put money on the fact the Rise of Skywalker would use Luke in the training of Rey or the haunting of Ben and that he would play an active Force ghost role. He was used for damage control. That was infuriating.

Han Solo. I recognize the irony of this moment being in both my likes and gripes. While I liked seeing Han bestow Ben forgiveness, even if he was just a memory and not a ghost, it quickly became a hollow sort of nostalgia. FULL POST HERE.

Why in the world is there an arbitrary 16-hour frame before the Exogol fleet strike? The Last Jedi gave us a slow space chase and now what, the executive team thinks that the polar opposite is the answer? So you already have to wrap of an entire saga in a 2-3 hour real world runtime, and you've decided to amp up the pace and cram that into 16 hours of Star Wars time just for funsies while the Emperor broadcasts propaganda to kill morale? Rushed, forced, we just spent a chunk of the movie at Fyre Festival in a space desert, don't tell me there wasn't more time to allocate for imminent doom.

So essentially, we had a StarKiller base in TFA, mini-Death Star canon in TLJ, and a thousand Death Star planet killing cannons on Star Destroyers? LET that part of THE PAST DIE!

The execution of Leia training Rey. The idea was wonderful...in practice you can really tell the dialogue was built around her, and the scenes suffer for it. Execution, for the sake of preserving the character Carrie built, may have been accomplished by Tricia or Joely Fisher or her friend Meryl Streep as a way to still honor her.

A case for triple / quadruple convenience. Star Wars has always been a universe of happy coincidences, but Rise of Skywalker takes them to new extremes to the point it smacked me out of the movie. Every movie has it's own unique level of “good faith reserves” after which point plot conveniences elicit “you've got to be kidding” reactions. This happened to me during the setup of Force healing. FULL POST HERE.

Execution of Finn's character. Apart from his force-sensitivity and connection to the trooper defectors, I think Finn's plot regressed in this film each time he had to follow in Rey's wake every time she went solo, (going after Rey in the sciff, yelling Rey in the Death Star battle, Rey I have something to tell you). I thought that we had gotten past this in TLJ when Finn found purpose in the Resistance and something worth fighting for, but old habits die hard.

Scavenger hunt questing and the damn Sith Dagger. If part of this was in the crawl, that might have been good with me. I get that Rey's a scavenger – it's good to see her in her element like TFA, climbing through the Death Star at the culmination – but it's far too time consuming to do the double header of dagger/wayfinder and coincidental. She could have been standing anywhere on Kef Bir, the oceanic moon of Endor, but she happened to be standing exactly where she needed to be with no reference to force power, and the tides hadn't moved any part of the wreck and the topography hadn't changed at all for the protractor on the dagger to work?! I’m a nerd about mathematical, logical tools, but they don't work well in a Sith alchemy plot! Even when we try for logic, the convenience appears, which could have been passable if I still had good faith. In the words of John Mulaney, “you spent it already?!”

Nostalgia aside, where are the stakes? They're trapped in a sand cave / wait, no they're not. They're being hunted through Fyre Festival and they don't have a get away ship / oh yeah they do, and its fully fueled, parked in the open, not stripped for parts. There are about five different “fake” deaths where the tension releases so fast, and two real deaths of spies that should have been given beats but were skimmed over: Chewie's dead / but no it was the wrong transport, 3PO's peril / never mind we've got backups, Zori wants to turn Rey in for bounty / then they have the quickest fight in Star Wars and are on good terms. Instead of taking big risks and getting reward, this film banked on unraveling the plot by the flip of a two-headed coin and settling for surprise “Oh, they did wot now?” instead of awe.

“Retconning” The Last Jedi / plucking it out of the timeline. Rise of Skywalker, in many ways, feels like a direct sequel to The Force Awakens. Direct slaps to TLJ include but not limited to: Holdo maneuver “one-in-a-million,” and Luke plucking Rey's saber from the fire. “A Jedi’s weapon deserves more respect (except when its Kylo’s),” and Luke lamenting about going into exile as a mistake. Concepts that could have been accepted, some even verbatim foregone conclusions from TLJ, were it not for terrible execution clearly framed at goodwill appeasement.

So, the Knights of Ren were window dressing? They just follow Kylo around like bouncers and when he turned to the light, they turned on him? A) Like the praetorian guard for Snoke, they are supposed to be loyal to Kylo and if they’re not we should get to see that, B) they just made Ben look boss as he took them out. Epic saber fight, lackluster idea, especially when the Knights were so speculated on and could have had mythos. Take them out of the film and put Luke's ghost in. Problem solved.

Rey as a Palatine / OP (Overpowered) Rey. All the one-ups that ensued between Rey and her grandfather. No thank you. I don't mind that she has power and is very naturally and diversely talented, don't let lineage play a factor. It was vastly more meaningful when she was ‘ordinary.’ I could go into a whole dedicated post on this.

Hux as a spy? No, I can't imagine that's what TFA set him up for. Interesting concept - I don’t want you to win, I want Kylo to lose - terrible setup. The Last Jedi did it better, Benicio del Toro is one of the only things I'll give Canto Byte credit for.

What even is the point of Zori apart from a character used to deliver a plot point of security clearance? She is very much used to prop up Poe's story. I like the idea of the character, I don't dig her role, and even more so I don’t like how the destruction of her planet first was used to fish for emotion. Invest more in Poe's struggles ascending to acting general.

Palpatine overall, from his intro in the crawl to his motives – He's such a cool, larger then life character, it shamefully never feels like we JJ knows what he wants out of the Emperor as his villain. Palpatine's motivation for decades was the dark, unnatural Sith ability to live forever sought by his master Plagueis before him, yet in RoS he's so utterly content to say “kill me so that you can ascend to Empress and I can flow through you (possess you)” – and then the discovery that draining the “Dyad in the Force” can regenerate him changes the plan immediately. Principally its an interesting idea using him as a puppet master to tie *all* the trilogies together, but for me it didn't work as nothing else about his character felt cohesive. And then when his own Force lightning is blasted at him, hasn't he learned to stop using it (throwback: Mace Windu) and pick up a saber and fight. Fool my once, shame on you, fool me twice and I'll cut you down. Wouldn't it be so great if, despite his wizened state, he still had latent combat skills? We were sooo robbed of that opportunity.

“Undermining” Anakin’s arc as the chosen one. I don't think bringing in Palpatine undoes Darth Vader's sacrifice – because Anakin still brought peace and balance to the Force when he sent Papatine back to the shadows. Balance restored by nature is not a permanent state, so it makes sense that the balance Anakin brought would eventually be challenged - but it does take away from the satisfaction of his story, especially considering that we do not see him return in physical form.

I get the "Be with me" use of Force ghost voices from all the Star Wars mediums. It was teed up right in the very beginning of the training montage. But you’re STAR WARS, you are making history. Go big, take a risk, PUT THE FORCE GHOSTS ON SCREEN (or at least a few from the central saga)! Give me Obi-Wan, Anakin, Yoda, maybe Mace, Luke, and Leia bestowing their energy on Rey, or go home! I mean my goodness, the Emperor had Snoke clones, but they were just sitting around as props in tank. If you wanted to go really big you could get all the clones of his main Sith disciples on screen (Snoke, Maul, Dooku), and have him force drain them to illustrate Sidious matching the power of the Force ghosts. But instead Disney played it safe.

Rey’s return to Tatooine and taking on the name Skywalker. FULL POST HERE with better options than appropriating the name Skywalker, especially considering that the plot does plenty to fulfill the film’s marquee during the Final Order Battle on Exogol when Rey embodies the Force of the Jedi and they will her to RISE. Taking on the name by contrast seems to trivialize via overkill what was delivered on (imperfectly, but powerfully).

The death of Ben Solo / “the redemption”: This depends on largely on what how you define and merit redemption. I can see why some loved it and others hated it – if you define redemption as “Kylo turned good after all that universe wrecking carnage and now he has access to light side force ability?!” then I can see where you didn't like or want his redemption arc, and might be satisfied with his death as a conclusion. If, like me, you didn't see Kylo's redemption not as the act of turning good but rather turning to face his own reflection / the thing he most feared – himself – exactly like Rey – and that's what allowed him access to the light side abilities to heal, that's fascinating as h***. My gripe is I don't think Ben needed to die for the redemption to work or as a way to finish his arc. (FULL POST HERE) Again, why another Luke-themed noble demise? It could have worked for Luke’s character because Rise of Skywalker follows TLJ and gives you room to breath and play. But there’s nothing after this episode for Kylo in the same way.

So peace was created by defeating Palpatine and his fleet? Nah. First of all, Rey killed Darth Sidious exactly like he “wanted” her to and yet he didn't possess her as promised, while an order of Sith stand around watching– okay, was the Emperor really that attune in his Force Cognizance that he expressed with full confidence to his followers “whatever happens, the ritual will be complete. Don't move, sit back, enjoy the show”? And there's still the fragmented First Order (see the previous point above). Not every First Order officer and ship were loyal to or trusting of the Emperor and his comrade General Pryde, so it would stand to reason they didn't all heed the call to the final order and join the fray. What happens to them now that their Supreme Leader (Kylo) abdicated and then died? Yes, they are far fewer in number and they no longer have the firepower of Exogol behind them so they retreat into that shadows and regroup like opposition always does. I don't believe for a second that they all gave up or were defeated by the groundswell of Resistance. And now we are right back to where Return of the Jedi left us almost beat for beat.

Initial Reaction *** Episode I *** Episode III

#star wars #star wars saga #star wars ix #rise of skywalker #sw: the rise of skywalker #dislikes #reaction'd #star wars spoilers #rise of skywalker review #tros #leia's death #ben's death #anakin skywalker #rey skywalker #force ghost #empress palpatine #mustafar

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c-is-for-circinate · 6 years ago

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I wrote so much thoughtspew about the first two seasons of Farscape and serialization vs episodic plot in late-90′s TV and character progression, and then I put a cut there because I’m not an animal.

An interesting thing that happens in Farscape (and I’m a couple of episodes into season 3, and have not been particularly good about any sort of liveblogging, as expected): we don’t actually see the first time John Crichton, intentionally and in his right mind, specifically chooses to and succeeds in killing someone he’d consider a person.

I was keeping an eye out for it--I knew it would happen sooner or later, and early Season 1 Crichton, who thinks he can talk Crais out of his vendetta by explaining it was a car accident; who brokers a deal with the Genesis and then sends a Marauder crew of Peacekeepers off of Moya alive; who spends the entire first episode confused and captured and shot at by various people and then insists, when he’s finally the one with the gun and the handcuff keys, that the Moya crew rescue Aeryn right along with him--that Crichton is so deliberately and fundamentally not a killer. It’s one of his firmament truths about the world. You don’t kill people. That’s not how the world works.

And it was so clearly one of the things that was going to get stripped away in the breaking-down of John Crichton (which I remembered enough about Farscape to know would happen, but could not have described the trajectory of). So I was keeping an eye out for it, and I realized, we never quite get it.

There’s a moment in Maldus’s trap, with Crais, where he decides to hell with it and tries to kill Crais--but fails.

There’s the virus that takes him over, uses John’s own two hands to beat a Peacekeeper scientist to death--but John doesn’t remember that, wasn’t in control, isn’t really to blame.

And then there’s the Peacekeeper ship that leaves Moya at the end of the episode, that John figures out how to blow up by its trail of cesium fuel--but the only person on board the ship is possessed by the virus, is a zombie, could never be saved, and everyone knows killing a zombie isn’t the same as killing a real person, right?

There’s the firefight as he escapes the Gammak base, and maybe he hits someone lethally and maybe not, but who knows? There is, of course, the plan several days later that destroys the base completely--ignites an entire moon, and surely dozens, hundreds (thousands?) die with that. So maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s the moment. Or maybe by that point the moment’s already passed.

By the fourth episode of season 2, John stabs T’raltixx straight through the chest with a quolta blade, stone dead, up close, at a range to see his face and his blood, but of course he’s half-crazed from light emissions at that point, so that’s not quite right either. But by that point it doesn’t feel new or horrifying any more anyway. By that point John carries a pulse-pistol as a matter of course, and has probably used it off-camera and we haven’t even seen it. By the time his caveman and superbrain doubles show up he’s ready to shoot first and ask questions later. By the time he’s kidnapped by the Scarran on the commerce planet, he thinks of himself as a person who’s killed, who’s grown callous to the suffering of others, who his mother would be ashamed of.

John spends a lot more time threatening to shoot people than actually shooting them, but his aversion to pitched battle in the timeslip episode near the beginning of season 3 has a lot more to do with timeline integrity than avoiding death. He goes into a firefight of pitched battle at the end, and shoots to kill, and succeeds again and again and again, and the only people whose deaths he regrets at the end of it are the ones he tried to save.

The thing is, I’m really into how these gradual character shifts happen. I’m intrigued by the lack of a clear-cut start/stop point. Because I think that’s how it happens for the characters, too.

John Crichton never wakes up and thinks, I’m a different person today than I was yesterday. He doesn’t notice the first tilot me he really kills someone, on purpose--it’s a thing that happens in the middle of ten thousand other things, and by the time he has time to sit down and process the fact that it happened, it has happened, and has been happened, and there’s something else new to worry about now anyway.

John stops wearing his IASA flight suit and it’s just sort of a thing that happens, and maybe it’s laundry day or maybe it’s the day he dressed up to pretend to be a Peacekeeper and everything went to shit, and in retrospect it matters but at the moment it’s nothing. You can point to the end of S1 as a major turning point for him, but plenty of things turned around before that point happened. And of course, you can point to the chip as the explanation for so much of the rage and the violent impulses John’s throwing around in season 2--but it’s not like one of the (many, many) one-off mindfrells that dissipate at the end of an episode and leave whoever-it-is alone to be themselves again. Season 3 John may be ‘himself again’, but whoever his self is, it’s a pretty far cry from who he was when the chip first went in.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this gradual style of character development, where the Big Meaningful Things just sort of happen in the background and you don’t notice until they’re over. And I wonder how much of it is about the way episodic TV happened in the late 90′s vs today.

In the late 90′s, nobody made TV shows for people to marathon. I remember 1999. We had a VCR, which nobody in the house knew how to program, and no cable which meant that any episodes of Farscape I watched were on tape at my best friend’s house and usually out of order. Any shows I did watch as they aired were often out of order: some weeks it’s a new episode, some weeks it’s a rerun, some weeks you go to your sister’s play and miss it entirely, some weeks it’s preempted by The Sports. Serialization was a thing, but there was absolutely less continuity from one episode to the next than you might get from, say, Sens8, or Steven Universe, or even something like The Good Place--which is an episodic sitcom, but still builds each episode off of events in the episode before. I remember watching The Wire for the first time, on DVD, in 2010, and saying to my friends, “this is a different kind of tv show”. Every single episode acted as a chapter in a story, rather than a stand-alone piece that could be shuffled into a different order within the guidelines of a couple of specific signpost events. And the kind of character development you do in a show like that, a show made for the internet generation, a show whose creators expect it to be binged, is different.

Farscape has a lot of continuity, but it also uses the status quo as a tool. Half the episodes start of in media res. We don’t need to know the specifics of how we got to wherever we are today, and it doesn’t have anything to do with the last episode. We know the generalities: we’re on Moya, we’re generally in trouble of some kind, and now we’re going to find out what new difficulties today has brought. Along with that, we know the status quo of characters. In Season 1, we know John Crichton is desperate to go home to Earth, is confused and out of place, would rather talk than hurt anybody, or let anybody hurt anyone else. That’s who he is. Episodes where he doesn’t act that way--trying to kill Crais and then very nearly killing Maldus--they’re anomolies. One really bad day. That’s why it’s so easy to shrug off the time he explodes the Peacekeeper shuttle with the virus-infected captain in it. That can’t really be Crichton committing murder, because that’s not who he is. That’s not who the status quo says he is. If that’s who he is, it changes the status quo.

And the thing is, using status quo as a tool like that allows the show to do a lot of very gradual character development without the audience or the characters themselves actually noticing. Season 2 Crichton is so angry all the time, but--well, it’s just bad days, because we know Crichton, and he’s a good guy who doesn’t like violence. Or, once it’s been going on long enough--okay, I guess this is the new status quo, he’s just an angry guy. Was he always like this? Guess he changed while we weren’t looking. The show doesn’t start to reveal what’s up with the chip until the back half of the season. And then suddenly there’s a reason Crichton’s been acting like this, and that makes sense, but also by that point it’s become part of the status quo. Crichton knows how to do violence and is so frustrated all the time. That’s part of who he is now.

And I think the show really benefits from being watched with that mindset, because it feels like the characters are just as used to thinking of themselves and their friends in terms of status quo as we are. I’m thinking about the episode where Zahn and D’Argo and Rygel rip off Pilot’s arm and then turn on each other. By that point they’ve stood by each other through all sorts of problems, risked their lives for each other, and for Pilot and Moya, no question. But the opportunity to go home comes up, and they each think about who they are, who they think they are, and they think, ‘I am a person for whom going home is the Number One Priority’. Never mind how little time they’ve spent seeking out a way home compared to how much time they’ve spent taking care of each other. By season 3, John loves Aeryn, loves Moya and her crew, would die for them and has actively tried to do so on multiple occasions, but he puts them all in danger for a chance at a wormhole and a way home. Not because going home is actually more important to him than their safety--if you set out the choices in front of him, if you said ‘You go home but Moya and everyone on her will suffer or die’, he’d give up the chance to go home without question. But the option comes up, and the little self-identification flag in his head goes, ‘Astronaut John Crichton, US of A, wants to go back to Earth more than anything in the world’, like a one-note character description blurb.

Farscape works really well when viewed as a show about a bunch of people who spend very little time actually thinking about where they’re going and why. They drive around in circles getting into and out of trouble, trying to keep safe and keep fed, reacting to one problem after another, and not one of them has any kind of plan for getting the things they say they want. Ask anybody on Moya if they intend to spend the rest of their lives there, they’d say no (or, ‘probably, and it looks like that’ll be about half an arn, now shut up and let us figure out how not to die’). But not one of them have an actual plan for leaving her.

#farscape #driveby meta attack #I have no idea if there's an actual thesis here #I think I circled around it and lost the plot a couple of times

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kiruuuuu · 6 years ago

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Sure! You only need to ask, anon :) And thank you so very much 💖 As I like the ship myself as well, I did go with Ash/Mira! (Rating T, fluff, ~1.5k words)

Mira is currently answering Clash’s almost suspicious, quick-fire questions related to her new CCE shield when Ash enters the otherwise deserted workshop, probably looking for Mira as she begins wandering around aimlessly upon realising she’s deep in conversation. And though dealing with Clash and her no-nonsense attitude requires full focus, Mira feels her gaze drawn to the redhead regardless – she’s as beautiful today as always, even with her braid in disorder and dirt-caked clothes indicating earlier training outside.

“My biggest concern is how bloody light it is”, Clash is currently complaining, weighing her shield in her hands sceptically. It’s not that she’s actively doubting Mira’s abilities though it might seem like it to an outsider, but Mira has long understood that the other woman’s cautious demeanour stems from previous instances of tech which couldn’t be trusted.

In the background, Ash subtly moves tools and electrical components around on Echo’s table, knowing full well it’ll spark indignant accusations towards anyone unlucky enough to be in the room the next time the Japanese operator works on his current project. Mira bites back a grin and forces her attention back to her conversation partner.

“That sounds like the opposite of a problem to me”, she states amusedly. “It should allow for more mobility than your typical riot shield and you won’t look as silly as Montagne. I swear, sometimes he looks like a moving box.”

Seeing Ash laugh silently at the remark is oddly satisfying, even though she’s started doodling on IQ’s notebook now. Apparently she’s keen on upsetting pretty much the worst kinds of people as IQ is just as known for running amok should anyone dare to touch her stuff.

“I can handle myself even with those clunky pieces of shit, thank you, but most of all I want to know how much punishment this thing can take.”

“Well, Alexsandr sat on it and it didn’t break, so I’d call it remarkably sturdy”, Mira shoots back and feels another wave of pride when Ash can’t help herself but chuckle audibly while she tangles up all the wires neatly laid out on Twitch’s working place only to re-arrange them into a large heart shape.

Unsurprisingly, Clash doesn’t seem to appreciate the joke if the scowl on her face is any indication. “You call this thing bulletproof.”

“Yes, because it is”, Mira insists with a small smile. She’s used to being doubted, remembers the faces well when she introduced her black mirrors and their application to the members of Rainbow, expressions ranging from vaguely dubious to outright disbelieving – only a few people were impressed, Ash among them, following Mira’s explanation intently and with sparkling eyes. Though… in hindsight, maybe it wasn’t her technical knowledge which caught the Israeli’s attention. By now, she’s long proven herself and collaborated with Twitch several times, though she can’t fault any new operator for being sceptical of the gadgets she presents them with.

“So you’d agree to standing behind it and letting me shoot you with any rifle of my choice?”

Clash is merely covering her bases but Mira shuts her down efficiently with a simple yet friendly: “Yup.” Her nonchalance at the request seem to mollify the Brit and address her worries sufficiently.

“Alright then. And it doubles as a taser?”

While Mira explains the intricacies of the shield further, Ash sweeps through the entire room and subtly (or extremely obviously, in some cases), messes with people’s belongings. It became clear very early on that she’s a being of chaos, entropy itself, and completely unapologetic about it too – the prank war she once had going on with Bandit lasted until the rest of the base practically begged them to stop and left a variety of rooms in shambles, not to mention it cost Thermite his eyebrows, Jäger his favourite jeans and Frost the majority of her shoes. No one entrusts Ash with headphones anymore because they’ll inevitably end up in a horrifying knot she claims to know nothing about, and Mira has seen her struggle with cling foil several times. It just… balls itself up in Ash’s presence.

All of the above is partly the reason why Mira has grown so attached to this woman. She can with a clear conscience state that she’s never bored as long as the redhead is around somewhere, even if she’s going ham in the kitchen and will eventually either need a shower or medical attention, or if she tries to kill a spider by mixing ammonia with bleach because she read it somewhere on the internet and thought it sounded like a good idea. She single-handedly functions as an acceptable substitute to Mira’s large family seeing as she causes about the same amount of mischief while being approximately as loud as all of Mira’s siblings put together.

And right now, she’s testing Mira’s composure by abusing what she thinks to be a fully-functional black mirror but which is actually no more than a glorified window, therefore allowing Mira to see her pull wild faces right behind Clash’s back. Fearing for her girlfriend’s health should the unamused Brit catch wind of what she’s doing, Mira tries her best not to let anything show on her face even as Ash’s grimaces get more and more exaggerated and she ends up having to mask a laugh as a cough when Ash finally delves into the realm of extremely vulgar gestures (directed at no one in particular and performed apparently simply for the pure joy of it).

Once Clash is fully briefed on the shield she’ll take into battle, she gives Mira a respectful nod and shoots Ash a withering glance as she leaves. “What did I do?”, Ash murmurs defensively as soon as she’s gone, prompting an eye roll from Mira.

“You’re a demon, Liza, as usual”, she informs her and points at the unfinished black mirror behind which Ash had deemed herself safe. “And this one’s not done. You’re very lucky Morowa didn’t turn around.”

A brief look of terror replaces the self-satisfied smirk on Ash’s face. “But you’d save me from her, right, Lena?” And like a cat which got caught scratching up the furniture, Ash sidles up to her, basically purring as she presses their bodies together and kisses up the side of Mira’s face.

“I would throw you under the bus without any hesitation.”

“Does that mean you’re going to tell on me about this as well?” With a gesture, Ash indicates the rest of the workshop which is now largely in disarray.

“You’re a menace when you’re bored, I really should. But it’ll all fall back to me and I’ll be accused of not having my girlfriend under control.”

A meaningful glint steals into Ash’s eye and they both grin even before she says: “You certainly do, but only when we’re -”

Mira silences her with a kiss which she prolongs considerably, aiming to steal Ash’s breath and focus her a little, ending up successful if the bright expression on her face is anything to go by. “I actually have a surprise gift for you, which is why I told you to meet me in the first place.”

“Oh!” Ash ponders this revelation for a moment. “It’s not my birthday, it’s not our anniversary, it’s not Valentine’s day or Hanukkah… Please don’t tell me you’re going to propose while I look like a slob. At least give me fair warning!”

“I feel like if we were to actually marry, you’d insist on calling me ‘wifey’ and that alone is more than enough reason not to do it. Come on.” Grinning, Mira drags an indignantly sputtering Ash behind her, heading outside and towards the training grounds of the SAS. They end up in an old, unused part of it, the building in front of them old-fashioned and not at all up to modern standards anymore.

“Do you want to have a paintball fight?”, Ash guesses and seems excited at her own suggestion. “Then again, we had one last week and I’m still finding paint spatters between my -”

“This house”, Mira interrupts her before she can go into further detail, “is scheduled for demolition.” She pauses for effect, but so far Ash hasn’t caught on yet. “It’s meant to make way for a new, much improved one.”

She still doesn’t get it. “So?”

“So…” Mira nods in the direction of the entrance. “I organised us some grenades, other explosives and, of course, your breaching rounds. We’re allowed to go nuts and you have no idea how many favours I had to call in for this one.”

Ash looks like all events she listed earlier somehow fell on one and the same day. “Fucking hell, that’s – Lena, that’s amazing! You have no idea how much I love you, come here.” And after she’s hugged Mira so tightly she’s afraid of having cracked a rib, the redhead is already racing through the doorway.

It’s no special occasion today, that much is true, but Mira doesn’t think she needs any kind of excuse to spoil her lover a little. And so she follows with a secret smile on her lips, looking forward to hearing Ash’s squeals of joy amidst the carnage.

#rainbow six siege #ash #mira #ash/mira #fanfic #oneshot #request #clash is a hardass but probably worryingly efficient and competent #also I think these two are cute #though their fights must be hella loud

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solisluccile · 4 years ago

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How To Avoid Divorce Christian Astonishing Diy Ideas

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How Much Does Marriage Save On Taxes

Often in a week and do little things he/she does not work well for you to make this type of person, then get a chance to have saved him and his young children?You have to learn how to save their marriage because they are simply staying always focused on making the set-up work.As people grieve, they will do wonders especially when you solve your problems.It's not for you to try to manage their finances, they may direct you to build or assemble something?It isn't complicated to turn the situation tearing you apart... ask yourself if you will, this same person becomes irresistible to one?s wish.

Someone else is teaching your child at the end of each other are some of the blame game is the main cause of the root causes for their concerns to be that you can do as God commanded when you give in, even if you are willing to forgive your partner, therefore you need to sacrifice for that.Help Save Marriage Wrong Tip 2: Force your partner will know even just by bumping into another round of blame game.When there is hurt, it's about time to save your marriage.You will also help you clearly analyze your situation is beyond a doubt that it is a wonderful institution that is better than it was.When you want to rebuild and, hopefully, evolve your relationship.

#How To Avoid Divorce Christian Astonishing Diy Ideas #How To Save Your Relationship

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sheikah · 8 years ago

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The pro-Daenerys and pro-Sansa meta no one asked for.

So I felt compelled to write this in response to the growing ugliness between the Jonerys and Jonsa fandoms. It’s something that puzzles me and makes me sad. It’s no secret to anyone that I am a Jonerys shipper, but that doesn’t mean I dislike Sansa as a character or hate the Jonsa ship in general. What does bother me, though, is the constant bickering over which will be canon, and the constant attacks from each side aimed at the female protagonists in an attempt to devalue the opposing ship.

I don’t understand these attacks and to me they just perpetuate the damaging tradition of female competition over a man. I realize all of this is fictional, but in most cases of the Jonerys/Jonsa feud I see people tearing down Dany or Sansa in order to legitimize the ship in question by saying that Jon could only be with Dany because Sansa is weak or only be with Sansa because Dany is evil, etc. What’s worse, I stumble upon a lot of fics where the main conflict is a love triangle in which usually Dany but sometimes Sansa becomes a villain character. Think about this for a second. A complex, interesting, multi-layered female character who is not canonically a villain in either case being used as a mere obstacle to a romantic ship, thereby creating a love triangle and feminine competition that doesn’t--and probably won’t--canonically exist. Maybe it’s the feminist in me screaming, but that makes me so, so sad. Now, fic writers can and should write whatever they want, and I am actually a huge fan of the love triangle trope. But in this case, it is being fabricated out of thin air and the end result is a lot of hate thrown at these women because of imagined scenarios in which they fight over Jon Snow. So now that I have given you this lengthy preamble, here’s a post about why, as far as I’m concerned, that would never happen--because Dany and Sansa are actually very similar. I believe that both women are confident by this point of the series and would not chase a man who is divided in his feelings for them and, in my opinion, they would actually be great friends.

1. Dany loves and protects women.

I feel like the idea of Dany fighting Sansa for Jon’s affection goes fundamentally against her character.

Dany would not try to destroy another woman’s happiness that way. We have seen her defend other women and display a special concern for women on several occasions.

In season 1, Dany used her power and influence to save the women in the shepherd village from rape at the hands of the Dothraki. We all know how this turned out, but it is the first instance of her trying to stand up for women and establish them as something more than property in Dothraki culture.

In season 3, Dany makes it a point to save Missandei from Master Kraznys and take her into her care. This is not something she needed to do. She doesn’t need a translator and was easily able to take the Unsullied without Missandei’s assistance or friendship. But she saw how Missandei was mistreated and wanted the opportunity to give her a better life. The famous line, “But we are not men,” just further illustrates Dany’s awareness of the plight of women in this culture and her desire to fix that.

In season 6, when Dany is held captive by the Dothraki horde and has been placed with the Dosh Khaleen, she is kind to the young, widowed khaleesi who brings her outside the tent, understanding and sympathizing with her situation.

But these women seem to love their chains--they feel the Dosh Khaleen is not a terrible situation to be in. They are an obstacle to Dany’s freedom but she understands their reluctance to question their status and doesn’t view them as her enemies. She liberates them, only burning the khal’s men who sought to harm her.

Finally, at the end of season 6, Dany forms an alliance with Yara Greyjoy, knowingly and willingly establishing another woman as leader of the Iron Islands. While a woman like Cersei sees other queens as dangerous competition, Dany seeks to aid, protect, and elevate other women.

We have no reason to assume that she would treat Sansa Stark any differently, and (as I will argue below) their similarities would probably lead to a meaningful friendship if they spent enough time together.

2. Sansa craves (and deserves) friendship.

Sansa’s character has changed noticeably through the course of the series. I would argue that the only person to change more is Jaime Lannister. When we first meet Sansa she is selfish and a little rude. But I can’t fault her for this--she’s a teenage girl, and one who starts the series in a place of considerable privilege.

But when that is taken away from her, Sansa becomes noticeably kinder and more understanding of other people. While she used to be annoyed by and somewhat mean to Arya, the loss of her little sister seems to affect Sansa and she misses that companionship.

She first tries to replace it with Margaery Tyrell, who seems to care genuinely for Sansa’s wellbeing--something Sansa isn’t used to at court, where everyone has questionable motives and hidden agendas. Sansa and Margaery’s friendship was sweet and offered us a glimpse of a happy, grateful young girl who was giddy at the prospect of marrying Loras Tyrell and eager to develop a closer friendship with Margaery.

Again, as we all know, that doesn’t exactly go according to plan, and Sansa’s next option is Shae. While Shae is only her handmaiden, Sansa seems to trust her and is thankful for her support in moments like the one when Sansa starts her period and tries desperately to hide it from Cersei. She doesn’t have a mother to talk to or a sister or any close friends, so she relies on Shae to help her. In this moment, Shae does. Shae tries to protect Sansa and even tells Tyrion that she loves the younger girl.

But jealousy sours this relationship when Shae believes that Tyrion actually wanted his marriage to Sansa, causing so much trouble that Tyrion is forced to remove Shae from Sansa’s service, leaving her alone again.

After that happens, Sansa is left with no one but Tyrion himself, and after Joffrey’s death her only ally is Petyr. He cannot fulfill the role of friend and confidant because their relationship is very sexually-charged and he clearly sees Sansa as a younger, lovelier version of Cat--his lost love. Yet Petyr throws her into the Bolton’s clutches where it becomes immediately apparent that Sansa’s only friends are the rugged Northerners. But Ramsay puts a stop to that very quickly when he flays the woman who tries to help Sansa, and with no one but the Boltons themselves, Theon as Reek, and Myranda, Sansa is alone again.

Sansa has almost given up on finding someone who can truly be her friend, as evidenced by her very well-placed distrust of Myranda from the beginning.

This is why Sansa is so willing to forgive Theon and to accept Brienne’s service the second time--because she has realized how lonely and desperate she is for a companion, someone to trust.

At the end of the day, Sansa is like a lot of us. A girl who fantasized about a beautiful life and grew up to realize it hardly works out that way for anyone. This experience hardened her. She is stronger and smarter than ever before but she isn’t heartless and still needs other people in her life. So I feel like meeting a woman like Dany wouldn’t arouse territorial feelings of jealousy in Sansa, who we already know doesn’t want to take the Iron Throne. Instead, she would see a kindred spirit--a woman who has also suffered, been used by men, lost everything, but emerged victorious and strong.

3. Dany and Sansa have a lot in common.

Although they lived very different lives and followed very different paths, Dany and Sansa have a lot of similarities that make both women such interesting and enjoyable characters to watch and read about.

Both women have had, at one point or another, magical creatures: Dany’s dragons and Sansa with Lady the direwolf.

Both women have lost their parents. Both women have lost two brothers.

Both women have been raped, if we are going by the show!universe. Dany was raped on her wedding night by the khal. Sansa was raped on her wedding night by Ramsay.

Both women entered into marriage arrangements to advance themselves politically so that they might avenge their families and take back their rightful homes. Dany, at Viserys’s behest, married Drogo for his army so that she might overthrow Robert Baratheon and take back her kingdom. Sansa married Ramsay at Petyr’s behest so that she might ingratiate herself to Ramsay and eventually take Winterfell for herself.

Both women have vengeful streaks, and it’s badass. Dany and Sansa aren’t murderous villains, but they recognize the necessity of violence as a means to an end and as a tool of vengeance. Dany’s burning of the slavers’ fleet was one of the most intense moments in the entire series and I will never forget it. It was also amazing when Sansa had Ramsay killed by his own hounds in an epic display of poetic justice.

Both women are still softhearted and loving despite their many hardships. We can still see love and compassion in Dany’s treatment of her friends and her dragons. I especially liked her gesture of giving Tyrion the Hand of the Queen pin, and her decision to forgive Jorah and urge him to save himself. Sansa displayed similar kindness in her gesture of sewing Stark clothing for Jon to symbolize his true status as a member of her family.

4. Their friendship would be mutually beneficial, and also really sweet ^.^

Last but not least, here are my cheesy ass headcanons about what would happen if these two spent a significant amount of time together at King’s Landing or Winterfell, and became friends.

--Dany seeing snow for the first time, and Sansa--who is apparently the Westeros Champion Snow Castle Architect--showing her how to sculpt things in it.

--Sansa showing Dany how to wear her hair with more of it down in the Northern style, and Dany fixing Sansa’s hair in intricate braids.

--Dany giving Sansa advice about men and sex, since poor Sansa has not had a positive sexual experience yet.

--Sansa being a welcome and valued member of Dany’s council meetings, because Sansa’s time at court is a valuable asset and Dany recognizes that.

--Both of them swapping funny but totally endearing stories about what it is like to live with Tyrion, the hilarious wino. Tyrion being super uncomfortable that his two favorite gals are always walking around arm-in-arm giggling and whispering conspiratorially in his direction.

--Both of them being girl power af and disrupting the fuck out of the patriarchy by making the most important decisions and strategizing like a couple of bosses.

--Trying to borrow each other’s clothes, but Sansa’s are hilariously big for Dany because of the height difference, and Dany’s dresses show even more skin on Sansa and are totally impractical in the Northern climate. So Sansa, expert seamstress extraordinaire, sews Dany some nice furs.

--Both women being important parts of Jon’s life, and vice versa, and all of them working together to leave the world better than they found it because that is literally like Dany’s motto now.

Wow, okay, so if you read all of that, thanks for being interested in my ramblings. Hopefully I convinced someone that we should all love each other and be friends lol. I know none of those headcanons will happen because there is no time for people to be cute and friendly with a war happening and everything. But a girl can dream.

P.S. My super-smart bff @oadara expressed interest in my ideas on this, so I’m tagging her now :D

#daenerys targaryen #sansa stark #game of thrones #got #meta #my ranting #sorry for the wall o' text #let's all be friends #^.^

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tyrantisterror · 6 years ago

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REVENGE OF THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST!

Eons ago, when the earth was young, I held the first A.T.O.M. Create a Kaiju Contest, and creators like YOU populated my activity page with a legion of giant monsters! Now, years later, in celebration of publishing the first volume of The Atomic Time of Monsters, the contest calls to us once again, and it’s only grown bigger and spikier with age. If you wish to once more ravage the world with atomic titans of your own design, then please, read on after the cut to discover the rules of this thrilling kaiju role call!

Ok, for clarity’s sake I’ll drop the goofy melodramatic tone.

THE RULES:

1. This time around, you are limited to one entry per person. Last time we produced 60+ kaiju, which was awesome, but this time around I want to narrow the scope a little bit - especially if I end up doing something crazy and end up drawing them all like last time, since my carpal tunnel syndrome afflicted hand just can’t do what it did those years ago. Work hard and make your entry count!

2. Your kaiju must have some sort of description of its physical appearance and its personality - you can submit a drawing or a written description (or both!) for the physical appearance depending on what you’re most comfortable with. Using the ATOM kaiju file template isn’t required, but it was cool when people did it in the last contest, so feel free to do so this time too!

3. The kaiju you create must specifically be created for this contest - no repurposing characters you made for other, wildly different stories.

4. The kaiju must fit the setting and aesthetics of ATOM. I’ll explain this in more detail down below.

5. The kaiju should add something meaningful to the world of ATOM. What would be the point of having another fire-breathing t.rex monster? The more unique and interesting your kaiju is, the more likely you will win the contest.

6. The kaiju must be independent of the main plot of ATOM - not “Tyrantis’s long lost evil brother who’s the strongest kaiju in the world.” These should be to Tyrantis’s story what War of the Gargantuas is to Godzilla’s movies – heroes (well, monsters) of another story in the same world.

THE REWARDS:

I will make pencil sketches of the top 5 entries in the contest.

I will then make fully rendered illustrations (lineart, colors, & shading) of the top three entries.

THE DEADLINE: All entries must be submitted by August 9th, 2019. You can submit it here on tumblr, via the horror flora e-mail, or any other channel you know how to reach me through. I’m in a lot of places.

THE GUIDELINES (TO HELP YOUR ENTRY FIT THE RULES AND WIN)

The smartest thing you could do if you want to win this contest is familiarize yourself with the world of ATOM by, y’know, reading all the material I’ve published on the subject. In addition to the many kaiju files that are free to read on horrorflora.com, the first actual, factual novel in the series was published very recently (and, y’know, is the reason I’m holding this contest), which you can get from amazon in both paperback and/or kindle editions (I’d recommend the former over the latter since I lack the technology to make a really nice ebook, but if money is an object, the kindle version is only $1).

Kaiju/giant monsters in ATOM work under very specific rules. There’s a full description of those rules at this link, but here’s the jist:

Most ATOM Kaiju are tooth and claw fighters - ranged weapons are a rarity in this setting.

While the terrestrial monsters in ATOM look strange, they are intended to fit within the taxonomy of animals in reality - reptiles, mammals, fish, arthropods, molluscs, etc.

Kaiju appear on every continent in ATOM, but certain areas tend to be dominated by different types.

North America is mainly besieged by retrosaur kaiju and giant arthropods.

Russia is beset by prehistoric monsters that seem to come from the Cenozoic, particularly the Ice Age.

Western Europe is plagued by creatures that vaguely resemble creatures from myth, if they were also prehistoric. Dragon-y lizards, fiery birds, etc.

Venusians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/03/atom-kaiju-file-29-karamtor/

Martians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-39-kemlasulla/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-40-podritak/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-41-sombarvot/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-38-ullawdra/

Giant robots exist in ATOM, but are big, bulky, and incredibly expensive. Fancy beam weapons also exist, but are similarly clunky - there are no sleek, elegant machines in ATOM.

ATOM is a setting for stories that are focused on humanity learning to co-exist with monsters, rather than humanity destroying them. A certain level of sympathy is put into almost every creature of its canon, even the ones that are meant to be villains.

REFERENCE MATERIAL

Here is a playlist of 1950′s monster movie trailers.

Here is some reference material from various monster comics of the 50′s and 60′s.

Video of retrosaurs in action.

Finally, here’s the page for the original ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest, which has even more reference material for you to peruse.

#Revenge of the ATOM Kaiju Contest #The Atomic Time of Monsters #kaiju

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acuppellarp · 6 years ago

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We’re excited to announce that Ace has decided to level up X Scott from a mumu minor character to a main character! Please go through the checklist to make sure you’re ready to go and send in your account within the next 24 hours.

OOC INFO

Name + pronouns: Ace + She/Her/It Age: 31 Timezone: CST Ships: X/Chemistry, X/Kindness, X/Acceptance Anti-Ships: X/forced

IC INFO

Full Name: Layla “X” Simone Scott Face Claim: Ari Fitz Age/Birthday: 25 / December 1, 1992 Occupation: artist/barista/waitress/children’s birthday party performer/regular Jack of all trades Personality: kind, calm, silly, humble, artistic. Hometown: St. Louis, MO Bio: Layla Simone Scott was an answered prayer. After 10 years of marriage and 3 little boys, Caroline Scott finally had the baby girl she had wished so desperately for. Caroline had dreamed of having a little girl of her own ever since she was a little girl herself. When Layla was born her mother envisioned pink, ribbons and bows, her own little perfect princess. Dreams don’t always turn out how we envision them.

As a child, Layla didn’t exactly fit the traditional description of a Tomboy, but it tended to be the label that persisted. She was never very interested in sports, and she didn’t necessarily spend more time with little boys over little girls, with the exception of her big brothers. In fact, Layla spent most of her time alone in her room drawing fantastical worlds and people who would grow from her imagination. In these imaginary worlds Layla belonged, the imaginary people loved her and didn’t want her to be anything other than who she was. Her Tomboy title partly came from the fact that she loved wearing her brother’s clothes and she on more than one occasion attempted to cut off her hair, to her mother’s dismay. She ran around in makeshift capes fighting invisible villains and putting the masked crusaders she created with crayons and colored pencils on the refrigerator.

Very early own Layla realized she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the role the world had assigned her, though she didn’t have the tools to describe what she was feeling. What she knew was she hated the dresses her mother put her in, she didn’t have any connection to the name her parents gave her, and she didn’t fit the mold. Being from a black baptist family there were certain expectations for little girls and quite a bit of time spent in church was apart of that deal. Layla enjoyed the music but everything else was a constant reminder that she didn’t belong. The word of God was to be paid careful attention to, but being preached at just made Layla uncomfortable.

Those questions of belonging and who Layla truly was needed to be expressed and explored in some manner and her chosen route, or that thing that chose her was art. She couldn’t remember a time where she wasn’t getting lost in creating her own visual stories or getting lost in those created by others. Going on a journey through imagery was an indescribable comfort and actually creating those voyages was cathartic. It was also so nice to just be good at something that she actually enjoyed doing. It opened up a world comics and anime which would eventually open up a distant community.

The older she got, the more she rejected the norm, the more strained life at home became. Her mother seemed to resent the fact that she wasn’t the little girl of her dreams, her father seemed to feel a level of visible embarrassment and her brothers who she felt closest to started to follow her parent’s lead. Once high school came along things were tough but life wasn’t without a few extremely cherished bright spots. Including her very first real friend. Layla had never had friends before, at least not ones she hadn’t met online. Her social awkwardness didn’t help this any, but her first true friend saw right through that.

Layla hated the clothes her parents bought her, so she’d find ways to turn them into something more expressive of who she sort of felt she was, or was maybe becoming. The clothing she wore, the way she presented herself to the world, like art, became an outlet for Layla. She’d leave home in one set of clothing and arrive at school in another. These clothes that would be cut, drawn on, and seemingly mismatched became a source of ridicule from her peers. One day, she was being pushed around by a couple of boys and Layla’s real life Superhero appeared out of nowhere and saved the day. Punching one of the boys right in the face. Layla couldn’t believe her eyes, and if she told the story today she would have said thematic music played along. Tasha Anders, stretched her hand out to help Layla Up from the ground were she’d fallen at some point. The introduction went something like, “Are you a mutant? That was some crazy strength behind that punch… // Why? Are you trying to recruit me, Professor X?” And the rest was history.

Tasha eventually became the one person in the world to accept them for who they were, Professor X. Layla told Tasha how much she didn’t like her given name in their many soul pourings, and from that point on Tasha only called them Professor X, or just X. The girl was also the first person to tell X that it was okay to not be a her or a him. It was okay to hover somewhere in between, and though X didn’t quite believe that at the time, the warmth that came from that permission was something that couldn’t be put into words. Tasha had opened up so many new doors in Xs life, the girl was magic. They explored the city together, and they were inspired by one another. X’s art became something… more. Tasha was her first friend, first muse, first love and the first important loss in her life. The girl at some point became X’s home when the world was too tough to bare. And the abrupt way Tasha disappeared from their life still leaves a big lingering ‘why’.

Slight confidence came with the new realization that their was beauty in who they were and weren’t. X moved through their space differently. They’d felt the loss deeply, but there was comfort in the knowledge that they could be loved for exactly who they were, even if only for a short while. X focused even more on telling beautiful meaningful stories with their work, and it wasn’t until then that they realized they wanted to share those stories with other people. They began showing their art at school and suddenly became the weird artsy kid instead of just weird and surprisingly, that made them less of a pariah.

As X grew more into who they were towing the line at home became increasingly difficult. Eventually X leaning more into their authentic self became more than their parents could handle, and they were essentially exiled from their home. While they figured out what came next X found themselves sleeping on one of their brother’s couches, dreaming of a quick escape. It was made clear the situation had to be temporary so making the dream escape a reality was imperative. Somehow X knew it would all be figured out, so when Alex sort of appeared with a magical solution, they weren’t surprised. Alex was a kid who hadn’t necessarily spoken much to X in the past but didn’t make fun of them, and recently begun to greatly admire the work they brought to school. He’d heard about the Scott family drama, as did everyone in their little area of town, and he reached out. Turns out he had an aunt in New York, a place very present in X’s work at the time. The two of them pleaded X’s case and eventually the woman agreed to take X in for a little while. It may have seemed crazy to agree to live with a complete stranger in a place they knew no one, but it was the perfect solution for X in that moment.

When X arrived at Grand Central Station, they breathed their biggest sigh of relief. Mona Thorne, the aunt of Alex, and the second of X’s real life heros was a small middle aged grumbly black lesbian. Standing in the middle of the train station with a sign that said “Alex’s Homeless Friend’, she was also the most beautiful site X had ever seen. Mona had three rules, go to school or get a GED, pay for your own food, and no company in the apartment. X got their GED within a couple months and quickly picked up a waitressing job. Life goes on.

It took a bit of time for X to adjust to the city, but NYC eventually became the home. They worked, volunteered, created and explored. Art was around every corner as well as other like minded sensitive souls. That meant by the time Mona eventually moved back to Missouri to help take care of her mother, X had already grown into her “everything works out in the end” attitude. The collection of friends from all walks of life, including the eclectic A-Cup group, they made continued to grow, which made their newly vagabond existence much easier, sometimes even preferable. They spent years couchsurfing and sometimes making parks or roofs their room for the night. They were not only creating adventures through their art but actually living them.

X considers themselves a serious artist but has in the past been reluctant about fully pursuing art as a career. They were afraid of becoming less authentic, but the desire to change the world through art has recently become stronger than the fear of becoming a sellout. They are now on a new mission to share their art with the world

Pets: No pets because they’ve never had a steady place to live but X would love a kitty.

EXTRA INFO

Twitter name/twitter URL/description: ProfessorX/@XXXistential/ I’m going to change the world one canvas at a time

Five latest tweets:

@XXXistential: Ororo Munroe, you have my heart forever.

@XXXistential: You’re only inviting me to your party to be be your sober driver and I’m okay with that

Because I want you home safe and I want your chips and dip

@XXXistential: Hufflepuffs In the House!!!

@XXXistential: To perform every action artfully is yoga. -Swami Kripalu

@XXXistential Working a birthday party next weekend and I have some new things I want to try out. Who’s going to be my face painting guinea pig?

Relationships

Sam: Sam is the first person X felt deeply connected too in a very long time. She is there best friend and unrequited love. X has accepted that nothing will ever happen with them but has yet to figure out the formula for getting over Sam

Stevie: Stevie is actually one of X’s favorite humans. Stevie’s slightly grumpy nature poses a challenge X enjoys, trying to bring a smile to her face no matter how much the girl resists.

Hunter: They first became friends when Hunter began commissioning X’s work for her bar. Hunter is one of the few people who just makes X laugh for no reason at all. The woman’s energy is sort of the opposite of X’s and that’s intriguing.

Teddy: Teddy is this enigma of a person that X has a great desire to figure out. And X is one of the few people Teddy tolerates. They have an interesting friendship that X holds dear.

#accepted #acup: level up

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alands9 · 7 years ago

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S1E19 In the Hands of the Prophets

“I'm glad to hear her expertise doesn't end with jumja sticks.” Is that what the kids are calling it these days?

Really, we're doing a wife jealous of the secretary, er, engineer plot?

Okay, she's trolling. O'Brien probably needs more trolling in his life.

Wow, Deep Space Nine really tackled some of the tougher problems of the 90s. Holocaust denial in the last episode. Creationism in this one. I'm glad those are things that are in the past. 😞

O'Brien's star underling is bajoran. She's going to side with religious extremist, isn't she?

If a confrontation like this was inevitable, Sisko, maybe you should have mentioned it to Keiko O'Brien earlier, so she wouldn't be blindsided by it?

By the Prophets, Kira, really?

To an extent the disagreement appears to be the religious extremists trying to be offended. Which, I suppose, works.

I don't think you needed to grab his ear to know that Sisko didn't believe.

“I cannot be responsible for the consequences.” When someone says that, they are totally freaking responsible for the consequences. It's just a more poetic way of saying “stop hitting yourself.”

I am sure there are a lot of people in that space station who believe exactly what O’Brien is teaching and would be happy to share that with you. If you need to pull your kids from the class because you're not a fan of science, so be it. But threats seem wildly inappropriate.

O'Brien, why are you dragging your assistant around while you look for a lost tool? Surely there's something more productive she could be doing. Or you can send her to look for your lost tool, and you could do something more productive. This does not seem like a two-person job.

The writer and the actress really nailed the sanctimonious seemingly-nice asshole religious type.

I doubt the sactaimoniousasshole would find it an acceptable compromise, but secular religious studies can be a valuable thing to teach. While it would be inappropriate for O'Brien to teach that the Prophets are real, it would be good education to teach her students about the major faith of the planet that owns the station.

(Hell, I suspect a lot of Americans could benefit from learning about other faiths.)

By the Prophets, such a sanctimonious asshole.

She keeps finding ways to be worse!

I suspect she's really irritating me because this is the exact same argument loop I’ve been seeing my entire adult life. (Obviously it's much older, but I wasn't paying attention.)

The episode summary says “A Bajoran woman in religious garb observes Keiko O'Brien's class and calmly objects to Keiko’s secular methods of instruction.” This is a really good example of the flaw in the idea that the calm person must be right. Manipulative assholes are often very good at being calm. People who are toying with somebody else's freedoms find it easy to be calm.

This episodes live blogging may turn into a giant social justice warrior rant. Sorry. It is intrinsically a super political episode.

It is interesting that the season finale is a political episode, with a religious connection, about the connection between the Federation and Bajor. That's kind of neat. I literally have no idea where the show goes over the next six seasons, but they're definitely seems like there's a lot of potential in the relationship between the Federation and Bajor.

Having an ambush “discussion” surrounded by children, with their parents standing in the background, then cloaking her one side of demands in the illusion of compromise. Sanctimonious asshole plays the game well.

All it needs to feel like real life is a pundit weeping that the two sides are both to blame for the schism.

That was a lot of kids. I don't think your class has that many kids.

Wow, okay, O'Brien. Suddenly changing the lesson plan to talk about the persecution of Galileo, that's moving into outright politics and manipulation. I'm not impressed.

“The Prophets were [the bajorans’] only source of hope and courage.” If it's true, that's really sad. If it's not true, Sisko is being space racist.

“But there were no Prophets.” Jake, I'm a freaking atheist, and I disagree with you. Sort of. The facts are not necessarily incompatible with the existence of the Prophets.

It occurs to me that the Kai is not unreachable. She struck me as much more reasonable and open-minded. Why not grab a bunch of bajoran pop through the wormhole and go have a remote conversation with the Kai?

The bajoran city is a nice matte painting, with some clever tricks to give a little bit of life (sparkling water, the glistening window in the foreground), but if you do a long, complex pan over it, the lack of parallax betrays the whole thing.

Yeah, getting a liberal leader of the nominally same faith to support you never works in the real world. And we're too early in the episode for it to work in the science fiction world.

Sisko, you want to call together the entire bajoran College of Cardinals to argue over a tiny school?

You're planting those plants in gravel? You're either very good or very bad gardener.

To be fair, the Federation does appear to be godless.

If you truly believe that Sisko is the chosen one of your higher power, and you're afraid of him because of that, I question your qualifications to be among the religious leadership.

Based on a tiny scrap of scorched remains, you could tell that the victim was shot with a phaser before he was placed in the space furnace? I assume this part of the script just said “tech tech tech.”

Okay, I'll admit that I'm a bit slow. Obviously O'Brien's star subordinate killed what's his face. That's why she need to get a bunch of screen time, despite doing nothing of particular note.

“Well, you're not like the others.” That sounds never bodes well.

They fight fires with air compressors? If that's breathable air, you just going to make the fire worse. If it's something that will suppress fire, it's probably not breathable air.

A meaningful glance at Kira is one thing, Sisko, but you held that look for way too long. Now it looks like you're addressing her, as opposed to the sanctimonious asshole, or your real audience which is the crowd.

At some point, Sisko, your grand speech turned into your telling the bajorans what they should be feeling. Which kind of makes you a sanctimonious asshole.

The sanctimonious asshole totally lost her cool. Which was her key advantage.

I'm not sure what the terrorist’s intent was. The problem is is that the school is an unremarkable room filled with stock furniture. It's terrible symbol of anything. It's not going to delay anything, since it'll be easily restored. And, seriously, it will just generate sympathy for the school. If the school is Satan, you can easily keep your kids out of it. You've apparently convinced all the bajorans to do so.

All that said, there's way too much episode for this to be the conclusion yet.

O'Brien's star subordinate is in league with sanctimonious asshole? The plot thickens.

Was this some sort of ploy in which the school is just a pawn and things started before the school fight actually publicly happened?

Is this a plot to assassinate the liberal religious leader?

He claims to have received an invitation from Sisko that Sisko doesn't remember giving. Total assassination attempt.

“Perhaps I can help you clean it up.” He said with an expression that suggest there are implicit quotes around the word “help.”

Round and oval displays are just such a terrible idea.

It is the will of the prophets that someone martyr themself. Not me of course, but you.

The files protected by a 7 character alphanumeric password? So, something my phone could break in about 10 minutes?

The liberal religious leader is still alive. I'm a little surprised. I assume their plan was to blow up the ship or something, and that was why they were messing around with the docking bays.

I don't know if I'll ever get used to the tiny little screens in the middle of large decorative panels. It really did not age well.

“Report any anomalous reading.” If you haven't specified that, what would it have reported?

Assuming she can pull it off, it's not a bad power play. She eliminates major political rival and martyrs him in a way likely to encourage support for her extreme views.

It sure sounds stupid when people address to computer with “Computer.” Who would ever do that? Okay, Google, who designed the Deep Space Nine computers?

Yeah, the dead-eyed person in the crowd, always the assassin.

Okay, the part of this plan I don't understand is having a bajoran do it. That just muddies the entire message.

If this was just about killing him so you could take his place, why did you need to bring him to DS9? Especially if you were going to go for such an incredibly obvious method of killing. We've established he spends extended periods alone in the gardens. Do knives not work at your monastery?

“I heard what you said at the school.” It would have been hard not to, seeing as how he was projecting so the entire crowd could hear him, and directly facing you a mere 5 feet away.

So there's just one person active at ops right now? Seems a bit skeletal.

I really like to this episode, but the holes in sanctimonious asshole’s plan are kind of irritating. If they could have set it up to make it at least look like a Federation, non-bajoran agent was responsible, everything else fits into place reasonably well.

#Season 1 #Kira Episode #Bajorans #Bajoran Faith

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hoidn · 7 years ago

Text

AO3 Writer Meme! copied right from @sarking (thank you!), who said:

Thirty-three questions and answers under the cut, along with a handy list of the questions so you don’t have to delete my answers when you write your own. Because I care, dammit.

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

i’m sorry to say that it’s a very boring origin story. i love trees. that’s it. tree started as my username on livejournal in 2001; five years later when i began writing fic, it made sense to use the same name because that’s how people already knew me. it was the name i used when i began volunteering for the OTW, and so it was the name i joined the archive with. the end.

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback (bookmarks, subscriptions, hits, kudos)?

[what she said:] I somewhat object to calling anything other than kudos or comments feedback, but:

Most bookmarks: Hearing Light (124, wow) [this is the number on my stats page, although the number on the work is 89, so idk.]

Most subscriptions: if you came this way (17)

Most hits: A Wild and Distant Shore (21,944 HOLY SHIT) [it took me three tries to figure out how to see my hit counts; also my top 5 are now all pride and prejudice fics, heh.]

Most kudos: A Wild and Distant Shore (629)

3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

it’s a photo of a bookshelf with the text “take me to the library. it is urgent.” i chose it because it’s very ‘me’ in the sense that i love books, i love libraries, and i have been known to have urgent library needs. also it just amuses me.

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

um, no? i mostly write in small fandoms, or larger fandoms that are no longer very active, and i write infrequently, and i rarely write long fics, all of which combined means that there’s not much consistency in the comments.

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

i mean, i have thousands of fics saved, and i’ve read them all at least twice. at least.

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

i have 21 subscriptions to works and, looking at them, i realise i don’t have any idea what most of them are. i’ve got 287 bookmarks.

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

i’ve written a grand total of one. based on that: sex worker AU!

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

User Subscriptions: 65 (wow, really? i bet they’re very disappointed. sorry, folks!)

Bookmarks: 1064

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

not other people; it’s more about me judging myself. like, i started writing a luke/lorelai alpha/omega fic? i’m somewhat horrified?

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

i feel like any answer to this question would require me to just... be someone else. for example, i’d like to be better at replying to comments and i’d like to write more consistently. but both of those things are constrained by the state of my brain. so either someone invents a drug to “cure” me, or i have to somehow magically become not-mentally-ill. while i’m not opposed to either of those things happening, they don’t seem very likely.

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

the thing is, a lot of my fandoms are small (or tiny), and in them the popular ships are still rarepairs in a larger sense. (right now, for example, there are 62 works tagged with walt/vic at the archive, and that’s across both the book and tv show fandoms.) so from my perspective those two things are not mutually exclusive. that said, it appears i generally write ships that are popular within the context of an individual fandom.

12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

66.

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

why do you hurt me this way? is it really necessary to flaunt my inadequacies, meme writer? is it?! between the old stuff i haven’t migrated over from scrivener and what i’ve got in bean it’s... more than 50, less than 100?

[what she said #2:] PS. Thank you to whoever originally wrote these questions for saying “writing program” and not “AO3 Drafts.” DON’T WRITE YOUR SHIT ON AO3, KIDS. I BEG YOU, SUPPORT BEGS YOU, THE POSTING FORM BEGS YOU.

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

both. that is, i keep them in my head until i can’t stand it anymore. then i write them down.

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

no. the closest i’ve come is when i betad a story for an xf writer and in the course of that she asked me to write a parallel version from scully’s pov (as a complement to hers, which was from mulder’s).

16. How did you discover AO3?

i remember being aware of something being developed through discussions linked from metafandom at livejournal. then i think i lost track of it a bit, until a friend mentioned they were volunteering for the OTW and the org was looking for more volunteers and i signed up. i did documentation for a while, maybe a year? volunteers got an automatic invite to AO3 and i moved into tag wrangling then.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3?

ahahahahahahaha no. i am neither popular nor famous. anywhere.

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

[what she said #3:] That… that is a thing people do?

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

no. i’ve been writing since i learned how to do it as a wee bairn. i started writing fic because one day i just had an idea that hadn’t been there the day before. that’s basically how it’s always worked. which is not to say that i haven’t received meaningful encouragement from other people, or that there aren’t writers who i admire so much i’d give up a kidney to have half their abilities, but even without that i’d still be writing. it’s the way my brain is wired, alas.

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

learn

what

words

mean

i honestly cannot emphasise this enough. it’s gotten to the point that i’ve begun finding trends as i go through different fandoms where it’s clear people are just copying the use of words as they’ve seen others do, without any awareness of what they actually mean. i am not exaggerating when i say that it makes me want to cry.

here’s a very common example: bemused. friends, this is not a synonym for amused. it means puzzled or confused. but you wouldn’t know that from reading a lot of fic.

there’s nothing wrong with not knowing what a word means when you encounter it for the first time. no one knows every single word in a given language. when you come across a word you don’t know, or even just don’t entirely recall the meaning of, look it up! the dictionary is your friend. it’s also a magical resource where you can make connections between words and learn stuff! if you use a mac, you already have an excellent in-built dictionary which includes a thesaurus and etymological details. if you don’t have a mac it’s still very easy to get access to a dictionary. i recommend the OED above everything and there’s a phone app for that which is free.

as a writer, words are your tools. don’t be afraid of them. but as with any tool, you need to learn how to use it before you can create something good.

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

what is this ‘plot’ of which you speak? it’s a bit of both. sometimes i’m writing towards an ending i already know and i’m just not sure how i’m going to get there. sometimes i start with the idea of something i want to achieve thematically or in terms of character and the story forms the ending itself as it progresses.

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

i’m not sure what a bad comment means in this context. i’ve never gotten any hardcore flames or anything. i’ve gotten comments that i found personally offensive or upsetting but that i doubt most other writers would. i’m an outlier and shouldn’t be counted.

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

all of them? i don’t know; different scenes present different challenges. i don’t think any of them are harder than the others, just hard in different ways.

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

my brain exploded with bits of a longmire fic less than twelve hours after finishing season 6. that’s now ballooned to two i’ve started writing, and like three more buzzing around in my head and being annoying. but also i’m supposed to be working on gilmore girls fic. and voyager fic. and xf fic. &etc.

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

please define ‘plan’. given my answer to #13, i believe the answer is obvious.

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

that sound you hear is my bitter laughter. short answer: no. longer answer: goals usually end up feeding into my mental illness. didn’t meet today’s goal? it’s because you’re worthless! and tomorrow you’ll be behind and the burden of the goal will be doubled and you won’t make it and you’ll be even more worthless! just punish yourself now and save time!

additionally, i’ve learned over the course of multiple nanowrimo and big bang challenges that writing now and editing later doesn’t work for me. i can’t successfully progress with a story if the bulk of it isn’t already complete. when we had to turn in rough drafts of papers in school, i always had to write the complete paper, then go back and create a fake draft. basically it takes me a lot longer to revise words that i’ve just blurted out in order to meet a word count than it would take me to just write and revise at the same time.

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

(i’m choosing to answer this wrt fic writing only, since otherwise the answer would be yes of course because i’m not four years old anymore. so) yes and no. i believe i’ve become a better prose writer; that i’m better at dialogue and moving scenes forward. but i also feel like i’ve lost something as well; it’s as if, in exchange for what i’ve gained, i’ve had to give something away. i might be wrong. or it might just be a natural evolution of style. i really don’t know.

28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written?

right now i’d have to say if you came this way. there is a lot of me in there, though in ways i don’t believe anyone else would recognise, and so it’s a very personal fic. writing it was also probably the most joyful writing experience i’ve ever had--at least for the first two thirds. so it reminds me of that giddy, wonderful feeling.

29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written?

Camera Lucida I: Latency. because it’s not really my story. all i did was write another perspective of the story someone else had already written. and not in a remix-y way. i literally just replaced the narrative sections she had written and slotted scully’s internal pov into it in place of mulder’s.

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

all things being equal, in exactly the same place as now. i mean, i’d like to say that in five years i’ll have finished writing my giant backlog of things-in-various-stages-of-being-written, and writing regularly, and all that good stuff. but i might not even be alive in five years. and even if i am, the likelihood of a magical transformation is, as i said before, unlikely.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

thinking about it. if there were a way to get thoughts directly into text, i’d have written a hell of a lot more. also, research. i love research! it’s a great means of procrastination because you still get the sense of accomplishing something.

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

the part where you actually have to write. it’s pulling-teeth, blood-from-a-stone hard and i honestly wish i didn’t need to do it, but i always get to a point where i simply can’t not write. like, it gets painful? in a particular way in my brain. it’s like pressure and an incessant song lyric you can’t get out of your head combined and it gets worse and worse until you finally just give up and write down whatever the hell it is that’s in there. unfortunately, the whatever-the-hell-that’s-in-there is never a complete story, so then begins the struggle of trying to make it one.

33. Why do you write?

like i said, it’s the way my brain is wired. i can’t not. and humans are a storytelling species. the very means by which we construct the idea of our individual selves is through the stories we tell ourselves. every memory, every conversation, every piece of our life is a story; we are stories within stories. i always think the question should be: why doesn’t everyone write?

Question list:

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean? 2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback (bookmarks, subscriptions, hits, kudos)? 3. What is your AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it? 4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters? 5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again? 6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked? 7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most? 8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page) 9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!) 10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc. 11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often? 12. How many stories have you posted on AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)? 13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program? 14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head? 15. Have you ever co-authored a story? 16. How did you discover AO3? 17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on AO3? 18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers? 19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write? 20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author? 21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go? 22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do? 23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..) 24. What story(s) are you working on now? 25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)? 26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself? 27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started? 28. What is your favorite story that you’ve written? 29. What is your least favorite story that you’ve written? 30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years? 31. What is the easiest thing about writing? 32. What is the hardest thing about writing? 33. Why do you write?

#writing is more surprise than certainty #me and my charms #words are my life

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