#captain spiffy

[dreagonarchives]

Show how far your ocs have evolved via their first and latest image.

Ohhh let's do Spiffy! 2009 was when I first designed him for the second time. And Black Friday 2024 I redesigned him. He really glowed up from a Sonic oc Haha!!

[orphanedwolfandfriends]

Stares with the upmost curiosity...and intimidation.

[braisedhoney]

you know what, i can see it. especially if they were both in black and white lmao—they look so confused ;; must be weird to basically have access to a multiverse of yourself!

@braisedhoney irl people are comparing our Narrators XD.

Is it the undercut?

[amuseoffyre]

@triflesandparsnips made a rather spiffy observation on my post about Ed and face-touching:

It may be worthwhile, considering how much face/mouth violence Ed is sensitive to -- and when we see or hear about it -- to do a review of how much of that face sensitivity is also associated with food and eating.

And hooboy, I ended up down a rabbithole thinking about Ed and food and it got so long, it earned itself its own little post.

These are all the food/eating related moments that tie in directly to Ed having strong emotional responses. I didn't limit it to just the face-touching because there's a lot of emotional mess going on as well.

When Stede wakes him for brekkie in 1x04, he recoils immediately as he wakes, until he realises who's beside him (especially pertinent since Ed wakes in 2x03 and asks if anything was done to him while he was unconscious - he even anticipates harm while sleeping).

in 1x05, when he's being taught the intricacies of dining and the French captain slaps on his big red trauma button while he's sitting at a dining table and already feeling out of his depth with all the tablewear.

Cut to the flashback in 1x05 which has him and his mum talking quietly in one part of the room, but his father is there, slumped and drunk on the family dining table, setting the domestic sphere as a place of constant present threat.

Later in 1x05, when he's alone at the party, he's freaking out over not knowing how to deal with this kind of fancy-folk dining and then someone touches his face - double-whammy of the emotional stuff and the physical.

1x06 gives us the main flashback to his childhood and his father's violent reaction to 'slop' and 1x07 has stressed, out-of-his-comfort-zone hangry Ed, trying desperately to keep up the Blackbeard appearance ("Blackbeard can't be seen treasure hunting!") and again, something touches his body/head unexpectedly and he lashes out defensively.

There is so much going on in the brekkie scene that I can't even get into it here. Ed trying to code-switch between the way he interacts with Stede and Jack respectively, but most significantly, when Jack talks over him and ignores him trying to change the subject about violence he's done in the past, Ed shrinks down in the chair, doing the small-and-quiet thing he does when he's unhappy (one day I will yell about Ed taking refuge surrounding himself with gold/yellow things - blankets, chairs, robes, pillowforts. His version of the battle jacket).

1x10 has several moments. First is the marmalade - there's something child-like about the blanket fort and eating sweet sticky things with his fingers, taking comfort in food and hiding.

The second is something that is viscerally explained in S2 - when he forcefeeds Izzy his own toe. The contrast of the brutality and the very paternal "now don't forget to chew" like an adult talking to a child gave me chills the first time I watched it.

The last thing in 1x10 isn't necessarily food, but hooooboy there is something in the way he sets himself up at what was Stede's brekkie table, putting on the worst of personas possible, that is very much reminding me of his dad at the table in a bare, empty home, lit by a single candle, in that first flashback.

And now, into S2, and our man starts things in a totally healthy and normal way - eating the cake with his weapon. And, more importantly, "did everybody get cake?" Again, we have the juxtaposition of implicitly care-taking language against the surrounding violence and brutality.

The gravy basket tells us so much as well - he wakes up to the horror of being vulnerable, trapped by his own body and force-fed by someone who we learn had a habit of forcefeeding live crabs to people and who had threatened to flay Ed's skin off and feed it to him. He's rightfully afraid that anything Hornigold feeds him might be poisoned.

Once again, we have the parental energy of "open up for the cargo ship" tangled up with the fear of threat and violence and horror - poisoning, flaying and force-feeding.

Ed's fear has the two utterly bound up together, inescapably so. His father shaped his childhood and Hornigold stepped into that role when Ed became an outlaw.

But even in this messy and horrifying confrontation with his own psyche and layered up with the horrors he's lived through as a boy, some part of Ed still desperately wants the comfort and security of food and home, especially when the food his subconscious is gathering for him are the ingredients for Māori boil-up, something his mother would very likely have made for them.

It speaks measures that the three things he wants to live for include good food and warmth and orgasms. No fame. No glory. No reputation. Just to be loved and safe and warm and fed.

Jump forward to 2x04 and dinner with Bonny and Read. Ed is unsurprised by the degree of violence happening throughout, but does hesitate when poison comes into the equation - "I got the present you left for me in my glass" - Ed immediately sets down his glass, staring at it warily. Again, calling back to the Gravy Basket and his fear that anything given to him might be poisoned.

He's already on edge and off-balance - "not sure what's real and what's the basket" and there may or may not be poison and knives and the person he trusted may or may not betray him again and he's already spinning out when Anne - who had already declared her intention to provoke Ed and Mary - cheerfully lands the bombshell of why Stede left him.

No small wonder he storms out of the room, but it does lead to them having a much-needed conversation and he and Stede are on a much steadier footing after.

And then, of course, we have the breakfast of 2x07. This one is especially significant because Ed makes the brekkie then disposes of his leathers. He's actively trying to step from one mode of life to another, from the Blackbeard-and-Piracy into the domestic, softer life he's been quietly craving his entire life.

Only, as he says himself, "I don't think I've ever made regular breakfast for anyone before". He's trying, but it's something new and unfamiliar to him and it's "my way of saying thank you".

And lastly, we have the scene with the fisherman and his son where Ed has shoe-horned himself into what he thinks is the solution to all his problems and also includes a father-son dynamic, because our man can't do anything without his daddy issues rearing their ugly head.

Once again, Ed is out of his depth, but at the opposite end of the scale from the party ship. This is a place he thinks he should fit but he doesn't. This is the domesticity he craved, but without understanding or appreciating the real work that is needed to get there.

And once again, over a meal, he has an angry father expressing violence. "Control your pop-pop!" he tells the boy who is around the same age as he was when he killed his father. But he doesn't fight back, he doesn't strike out at Pop-pop, and the son steps between them and pulls his dad back several times.

And it's this father-figure's words that ring in Ed's ears when he realises Stede may be in danger. "If you were ever good at anything, do that". And if there's one thing Ed Teach is good at, it's fighting for the people he loves.

In conclusion our Mr. Teach wants a safe and comfortable home-life, with food and warmth (and orgasms), but he has no real experience of what that is really like or how to get it. His entire life has been a succession of threats and danger and men who would do harm to people in their charge, especially when they were unarmed, defenceless and vulnerable.

He doesn't know how to be safe yet, because he's never experienced it. All he's known until this point is a life of violence and danger and while he tried to move away from that, the violence and danger was still there - as Stede put it, there's no escaping it in their line of work.

But now, at the end of S2, for the first time in his life, he is actually able to say "No, I need to be away from piracy" because his whole journey through both seasons has been him trying and trying to step away from the life that has him by the throat.

And now, he's finally been able to do it and he's not alone. He has someone he's safe with and who is willing to do the work with him to help him figure things out. And give him good food, warmth and, of course, orgasms.

[starsxcanucks]

quinn lookin so 🫦 he looks so spiffy. captain sure can clean up well. someone take away this fuck ass beanie

[garagepaperback]

vivid

o.

Marcus is - well, Marcus is, and that’s a huge part of the problem.

i.

Oliver is scraped knees and the sort of sideways sun you can’t see so much as feel, and that’s how Marcus remembers it, the one time - thick slats of light in stray ribbons along the ground of broom shed. It smells like dried sweat, pennies that no amount of magic on the planet can cleanse of the thick musk, months of stale exertion, of fury and exhuastion and dried up hope. He closes his eyes through most of it. He can’t see him, and he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t want to.

It’d be redundant. Marcus already has him, loud, underneath. Slick, delicate little hips in his grip. Oliver would fight back, would shove and snap and bite if Marcus called him delicate, which is exactly why he does.

“You’re so delicate.” It’s a purr, it sounds like it was born jagged-jawed against a rabbit's neck because it was. He doesn’t even have to lean in for it to come out crawling and low, his mouth is right on the juncture of throat and ear. Dragging his tongue along the shell, it’s too real to ever go back to anything else. 

He’s Oliver this way. He’s Wood in the air, Wood during a match but in the lack of light, lack of air, knees that must be aching, curling in and away from, elbows on the ground for him, he’s sweet and pliant and Oliver, just this once. Freckle-shouldered and shaking.

And he does fight back, too.

ii.

“So what was Flint like?”

“Who?” Oliver asks, because he’s a fucking moron.

Obviously, Angelina already knows Marcus works with the team or she wouldn’t have asked. Maybe he can get away with it this time though. He blinks, wide-eyed, like he’s looking into a bright light and hopes she’ll wonder if he’s concussed.

He feels the sight of the worried crease in her brow like a thrumming cry of victory in his chest.

“Flint.” She says, an ‘F’ chord stepping down to an ‘E’, a smear slower, even her hands stilling on the clementine she'd been mid-peel on. 

“Oh,” Oliver says, like he’s just now putting together the name, like it’s such a foreign shape his mind hardly knows how to navigate the angles of it.

Flint? Oh, Flint- Flint, like the sound never pulsed through him shivered and slow. Like it’s not a direct capillary to Marcus, to the noise that he choked on, that’s been claimed up by and for the same cruel thing, responsible for rolling his eyes into the back of his head, for making him bite his cheek hard enough that it stayed swollen for the rest of the week. He hadn't healed it; he'd wanted it, running his tongue over and over it. Cherished it between his teeth.

The blunt syllable is still as dazing and hot and fucking ugly as he is.

“He was fine.”

iii. 

Marcus doesn’t know how it happened, before. It was just the one time and frankly he doesn’t care, never thought about it again after that, barely even remembers it. It was Oliver, though, definitely. Oliver’s fault. Quidditch, probably. Something mean that found a new way to burr and ache. 

He doesn’t think Oliver planned it. Little captain - he was alright with tactics in the short term, much better at memorizing a maneuver than at keeping it together for a whole game. He’s too emotional, he cares too much. It’s written all over his face, furious in the air or even more so, the one, unthought time, between Marcus’ legs.

He’s a better follower than a leader, really, which is something Marcus also told him during.

And then, years later, three inches taller, broader, and still less so in both directions than Marcus is, Oliver is standing in his doorway, sour-faced. Follower still. Though, when Marcus says it, he'll say at least he's on the team.

"It's better than equipment managing. Spiffy office, at least. Really. Cool."

Marcus snorts. He knew he was coming, that he’d been drafted onto the team, but he didn’t know he’d come here. Here.

Same fucking haircut that Marcus dragged against the dirt with a fist. Easy.

for day 12 of @microficmay

[pluralzalpha]

RED DWARF CHALLENGE

DAY 15:

Favourite Rimmer outfit

Captain Emerald

(Couldn't find a good GIF with the hat)

I've a soft spot for when he gets spiffy though:

[sineala]

18+ 616 Steve/Tony Discord Book Club: Captain America: Patriot #1-4 (2010)

It's Captain America week for Book Club on the 616 Steve/Tony Discord server and, for a change of pace, we're reading about a Captain America who isn't Steve! We are reading Captain America: Patriot, which is a four-issue miniseries from 2010, written by Karl Kesel, with some very nice art by Mitch Breitweiser. Okay, okay, Steve makes a very brief cameo in it, but it's not about him.

This is a miniseries about Jeff Mace, who was the third Captain America. If you join the server you can see the massive essay I wrote up outlining why and how this came to pass, but the tl;dr version is that the state of affairs in canon is that the US government decided that after Steve died in 1945, it wouldn't be good for morale if they just told everyone that Captain America was dead. And since, in 616, the public has no idea who Captain America really is, they can just hire a new guy to be Captain America and put him in the costume and hand him the shield and no one's going to be able to tell the difference.

Jeff -- previously known as the costumed hero The Patriot -- is recruited after the second Captain America (William Naslund) dies in his arms. He decides to become Captain America because he thinks it's the right thing to do, and so a lot of this miniseries is about what it really means to be Captain America, how to be Captain America if you aren't Steve, and also how to work with Steve's friends and teammates. Also there are a lot of spiffy Golden Age heroes.

It's a really interesting miniseries with great art and I feel like it's reasonably obscure, so you should definitely read it with us. Plus, it features Jeff punching Namor in the face because Namor is being a homophobic asshole.

Come join us on You Gave Me A Home, an 18+ comics Steve/Tony Discord server! We still have the custom invite URL discord.gg/stevetony! Because that's just how awesome we are.

[anarchy-n-glitter]

Bring the Pain

SUMMARY: Chucky and Daphne talk things out after he shows up in her living room unannounced. He tells her he's dying and needs her help.

WORDS: 3,649

(PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE)

CHAPTER 2

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Chucky couldn’t help but be a bit disappointed by her reaction. 

“It’s been years and that’s how you greet me?” He gawked, feigning hurt and bringing a stubby, plastic hand to his plush chest. The way he blinked and moved so slowly unnerved her. “You made it hard to find you, by the way.”

“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t want you finding me?” She took another good look at the living doll. “You look like shit.” She remarked coldly, placing the iron doorstop on the ivory end table beside the loveseat. She watched the doll wearily as he began to comb his hand through his thinning hair. 

“Hey quit shedding on my chair! I want my place to look decent.” 

Chucky looked around slowly, holding back a laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry doll, I’ll keep the place spiffy. My hair would go great next to last week’s dirty dishes on the counter!” He howled. “Wait, wait… maybe it’ll look nice in the dirty laundry corner!” He continued to cackle obnoxiously loud, slapping his tiny knee and kicking his feet. Daphne rolled her eyes, despite the tears that seemed to flood them at the sound of his laugh again. He continued on, listing everything gross about her apartment, pointing out everything she had begun to feel insecure about lately. His laughter died down finally with a wheeze and a small coughing fit that had the woman furrowing her brow. 

“Anyway, disgusting fucking apartment aside,” he groaned, struggling to get to his tiny feet as his plastic body made popping noises she never thought she’d hear from a doll.  His sky blue eyes met her emerald ones and for the first time in 35 years she felt a spark. 

A spark with a doll? Be so for real Daphne. 

“Me looking like shit is exactly why I’m here.” Chucky gestured awkwardly to his barely two-foot tall self. “I’m dyin’, Daph.” She bit the inside of her lip. Hard. 

He had to be lying, there was no way a slimy bastard like Chucky was dying. Daphne glared at him, trying so hard to find where he would be lying. In the brighter light of the lamp she could see he was far worse off than she originally thought. Crows' feet bordered his sunken eyes and wrinkles were apparent on his forehead. In the dull, thinning forest of auburn were small strips of wispy white. He looked like he aged 15 years, which was actually better than she expected.

“I mean, you’re aging.” Daphne stated simply, shrugging. She couldn’t say why he was aging, she wasn’t as well versed in this voodoo stuff as he was, but she couldn’t say for sure that he was dying. For all she knew, this was just another one of his fucked up manipulation tactics. 

“No shit, captain obvious.” He growled. “I went to see some witch doctor-” He stopped abruptly at the sound of her giggling. Rolling his eyes, he continued: “And he said Damballa is pissed because of an exorcism.” Daphne tilted her head curiously.

“An exorcism?”

“Yeah, these asshole kids tried to expel certain parties from a certain doll. Well, certain parties are not pleased.” Oh, oh, this was too good. 

“So because of that Damballa think’s you’ve abandoned him?” The doll nodded. Daphne held back another laugh. “And you want me to risk pissing him off more to help you?” 

“Well, yeah.” Chucky stated simply. He gestured to her. “I mean, come on Daph, you look great! It’s clear you’re doin’ somethin’ right.” 

Daphne looked away to hide the way her cheeks grew red at his compliment. “Duh, that’s cause I stay away from catholics.” 

“Those kids were not catholic!”

“Even worse.” She answered as she walked into the kitchen. She heard the thud! of Chucky jumping off the chair onto the hardwood floor and the hilarious patter of his tiny feet shortly after. Somehow, despite the change in his stature and circumstance, he felt like nothing changed. Daphne still had a sharp tongue and the banter with her really got him going.

Whether that was good or bad depended… and in this context it worked him up in a bad way. 

“You shouldn’t walk away from me when we’re talking, babe. It’s rude.” An amused smile crossed Daphne’s dark lips. 

“Or what? You’re gonna kick my shins till I die?” She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t necessarily care. She’d love to see what he’d do.  She knelt down in front of the homicidal doll, a wide smile on her face. 

“You are treading on some thin fucking ice, doll.” He warned in a tone that used to send shivers down her back. Depending on the context it was either from fear or arousal, but now she tried not to laugh. She saw the anger boiling inside him, the frown on his cherub-like face, and it made it all the funnier. 

“Chuck, I’m not afraid of you.” Daphne stated simply, pinching at his plastic cheeks. I never have been. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know how anyone is.” She stood up straight and went back to the sink, trying her best to tidy up after he pointed out every little thing wrong with her apartment. 

Things had really gone downhill since Tess died.

Daphne scrubbed away at the dishes, one by one and placed the slightly cleaner glassware on the counter above the dishwasher. She opened the dishwasher and glanced inside, realizing she never unloaded the damn thing from the last time she ran it… which was two whole weeks ago. She shook her head as she collected the clean dishes and placed them in the cabinets, nearly forgetting the murderous doll was still wandering about her apartment.

Chucky was a lot harder to keep track of now.

She had finally gotten the dishwasher cleared when she felt a sharp, burning pain in her back. All she could do was freeze for a moment, choking on her words as her nerves were set aflame. That little fucker had climbed on her back and was feverishly stabbing her in the back - what else was new?

“Fuck!” Daphne flung him onto the counter and stood up straight, feeling the warmth of her blood trickle down her back. A shaking hand reached behind her and pulled the knife from its place, and she dizzily examined the blade. This knife was from the dishwasher! She thought to herself in a haze. Chuck, you’re in for it now.

Slowly, like all wounds, the slashes in her back began to mend on their own. Skin and muscle joining together, melting into one, as blood gushed down her back. It hurt like hell and Daphne had to grit her teeth to not scream. She found that this little party trick didn’t quite have the same effect on people if she showed them it hurt. The doll that laid on her counter slowly began to sit up, watching Daphne closely. She huffed indignantly as she palmed her back again, finding holes in her favorite leather top. 

“You ruined my favorite shirt, you little shit!” Daphne threw the knife toward the living room, not caring where it landed. Chucky looked up at her in awe, a wicked smile coming to his face finally. 

“That amulet does a lot more than just keep you young, doesn’t it?” His question came off more like a statement. He knew now, he didn’t need her to say anything. It was annoying knowing that he couldn’t threaten her when she got on his nerves now, but it did explain why she so comfortably laughed in his face. 

It reminded him of Tiffany, though she eventually paid for not taking him seriously. 

Daphne straightened up, looking all too smug for someone who was just stabbed. “No shit, captain obvious.” She spat his words back at him. Chucky howled with laughter.

“I missed you, Daph.” He finally said, wiping tears from his eyes. Daphne paused, watching him wearily and wrapping her arms around herself. She wasn’t sure how to respond to that. She swallowed.

“I missed you too.” Daphne whispered, self conscious. 

“Finish doin’ the dishes and come talk. I got a favor to ask of ya.” And with that, the doll slid off of the counter and scurried off to the living room. 

⛋⛋⛋⛋⛋

The words from his plastic lips felt surreal. A plan, an insane plan, one that only he could come up with and think he could get away with. Six souls; six sacrifices, that was the prescribed solution to Chuck’s problem according to the doctor he saw. The only problem with that seemed to be that Chuck had already taken six lives… actually it may have been more than six, he said he’d lost count. 

Cloudy blue eyes stared up at her, unblinking, as she tried to determine the best course of action. 

“So let me get this straight,” Daphne began, exasperated. “Your first set of sacrifices failed so your grand idea is to go to the White House and try again?”

The doll nodded eagerly, and in his gruffer-than-usual tone he answered: “Yeah, see? You get it.” No, she really didn’t.

“Just like that, huh?” She asked sarcastically, her arms still crossed over her chest. “What makes you think it’ll even work? What if Damballa’s really pissed at you?” There was something more to her tone this time. It could almost be mistaken for tenderness. 

Daph was a changed woman, that much Chucky knew, but he had to wonder how much of his old flame still burned under her icy exterior. 

“He wants something big, Daph. What else is bigger than-”

“It’s delusional.” She cut him off. “Yeah, you could get away with it, but you’re asking me to go with you. I’ll get caught, then what? You keep going and I rot in jail? You get to discard me again like it’s nothin’?” 

So that’s what this was about.

“I have a plan.” Chucky muttered, and despite his epiphany he was still finding it hard not to be irritated with Daphne’s refusal. 

“Oh great! You have a plan!”

“Just get me there!” He finally shouted. The doll took a moment, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. “And if you really don’t want to stick around you don’t have to.”

Daphne took a moment to think over his words. She still wasn’t sure if he was being honest, after all, it was really easy for him to say she can leave when she wants. Unfortunately for him, she knew Chuck like the back of her hand. Of course, several things had changed over the years clearly, and if he truly was dying…

He did go out of his way to find her. He clearly needed her help desperately. Part of her feared that abandonment, that familiar feeling that came with being used and disposed of. Maybe it would be different, given that he was a doll as of right now and the reason him leaving hurt so much the first time was because she felt he used her body and left her when it was convenient. Technically he was still using her body but in a completely different way - this was more like doing a friend a favor. 

Daphne’s emerald stare narrowed.

“And where’s Tiff in all this?” There it was. The doll grimaced. 

“That’s a long story.” 

“When’s it not?” Daphne scoffed. She listened intently as Chucky explained the last twenty-ish years. He went into detail, explaining how Tiffany found him after his dismembering, how she wanted him to marry her and how that absolutely wasn’t in the cards at the time. He talked about how he electrocuted her in the bathtub, then the soul transferring, and the cross country road trip that somehow ended with a knocked up doll and a surprise resurrection from their gender fluid kid. 

Somehow, Daphne felt herself growing jealous. 

It was a weird feeling that left her all kinds of confused, but when she thought of the last twenty years for herself she felt… hollow. She wanted to rekindle some sort of love, feel the same burning passion she felt with Chuck with someone else. The closest she had gotten was when she was the third in a throuple out in Santa Carla, which even that didn’t last. She didn’t like staying up all night and sleeping all day. 

Then of course there was Tess. 

“Anyway, she swapped bodies with Jennifer Tilly and took the kids, but then we got back together and she helped me terrorize the Pierce’s one last time. Shipped me right to their house. I ended up sending Sarah’s kid to the nuthouse and from there I possessed her.” He stopped for a second, his brow furrowing, forehead wrinkling. “Then that fuckin’ exorcism happened.”

Daphne was still taken back at the mention of Sarah Pierce. That was a name she hadn’t heard in a while, and man was she pissed when she heard about it the first time. He wasn’t even the one to tell her… it was Tiff. 

He shook his head. “Anyway, Tiff broke me outta the nuthouse and helped me build an army of, well, me. I said something, she got pissed off and took my head off, and well here we are. I haven’t spoken to her in a year or so. I did hold her at gunpoint when I was Nica not too long ago but that didn’t last long.” 

“Sounds about right.” Was all she could muster. That hollow feeling in her chest came back and weighed heavily on her. She felt the lump in her throat as her mind repeated the same thing over and over again: you will never be the first choice.

There was a part of her that fought it though, the more naive part of her mind that somehow survived through it all. He probably stuck around with her cause it was convenient, it said, she was the one to find him and bring him back. Daphne sighed. You made it hard to find you, remember?

She wanted to snap back at the invisible voice, to tell it that he didn’t even try before all this, but with the risk of looking insane and vulnerable in front of Chucky she chose not to.

They sat in silence while she pondered the possibilities, the logistics of it all, and she could feel his blue eyes on her even when she turned her back. Luckily she knew as long as she had her amulet there were no risks of her being killed and waking up in a doll like Tiff, and she missed Chucky as much as she hated to admit it… maybe a road trip would be fun? 

The strawberry blonde looked back at the doll. 

“Fine. I’ll take you.” She said finally, and a large smile broke out on the doll’s face. 

“Yes! I promise, doll, you won’t regret this.” He hopped off of the couch, standing at his full 3 foot height. “It’ll be just like old times, Daphne and Chucky.” 

⛋⛋⛋⛋⛋

She was being led somewhere downtown, her hand held tightly in the warm grip of her boyfriend as they made their way down sprawling sidewalks. She was in her cutest date outfit, face done up in dark makeup and platinum hair in two ponytails. Her large boots made it hard for her to keep up with him. 

It was fall, and in her short skirt she was freezing her ass off, but she’d never say anything. She wanted to look cute for him. 

Grey skies hung over their heads, making the tall buildings of Chicago look much darker than they usually did. It wasn’t like Eddie to take her out in the middle of the day, but he said he wanted to show her something. She had lied to her parents, saying she was going to the mall with Miranda, and she found the act of sneaking around like that thrilling. She only hoped Miranda wouldn’t call the house and spoil everything. 

He led her to an old apartment building, up a few flights of stairs, and to an old, splintered door. He knocked twice and waited for what felt like an eternity. There was a sound on the other side of the door like someone was undoing a few locks, and then they were greeted by the face of a woman with platinum blonde hair. It matched Daphne’s own hair. The woman’s dark eyes scanned over both of them, and just as Eddie went to step forward she slammed the door in his face. 

Daphne furrowed her brow in confusion, thinking maybe they were at the wrong apartment offhandedly as her eyes wandered from the door to the rundown halls of the building. The beige paint on the walls was peeling and the carpet they stood on was covered in stains. It looked like it hadn’t been vacuumed in ages, and the bearding had been thinned so much it was almost down to the mat. Somewhere in the distance she could hear a baby crying. 

The woman reappeared with an irritated expression. 

“Eddie, get in here.” Her voice was high pitched and almost whisper-like, but Daphne could hear the annoyance in her tone. Eddie stepped forward, Daphne’s hand still tightly in his. The woman shook her head. “No, she stays outside.” 

The duo looked at each other, but all Eddie could do was shrug. 

“Sorry.” He said, letting go of her hand. “Gimme a second, ‘kay? I promise you won’t be out here all day.” And with that he disappeared behind the old door. 

Daphne suddenly felt all too exposed in that hallway. She had no idea where she was, or who was in the building, and there she was standing in front of this door which likewise had people she didn’t know inside. She figured these were friends of Eddie’s, but the way the woman looked at her, the way she wasn’t immediately let inside… it filled her with an uneasy feeling.

Years later she would look back on this moment and she would beg herself to leave - to listen to that feeling and get as far away as possible. There was a darkness behind that door and she knew all too well that it would swallow her if she stayed where she was.

But she did stay. 

After a few minutes she sighed and sat down beside the door, bringing her knees to her chest so she could rest her head. She was tired, a late night before all of this really wasn’t a great idea. She could see the chipped, black nail polish on her nails and began to absentmindedly pick at it, hoping she could remove a majority of it and repaint them later. 

A few more minutes ticked by slowly before Eddie peeked his head out from the doorway, looking down at her with that boyish charm that attracted her in the first place. “Hey Daph, you can come in now.”

She let him lead her through the door into the dimly lit apartment. The walls were a turquoise color with white trim that was turning an odd shade of yellow. The lamps in the living room gave off a soft orange hue that made the place seem a lot cozier than its tenants. Now she could see the woman in full, and she wore a simple black dress with a red, cropped leather jacket. She was standing beside a man with long, dark hair, and his back was turned to them.

“So, yeah, this is Daphne.” Daph gave a small, shy wave. Eddie turned back to her. “Daph, this is Tiffany and-” 

The man finally turned around, his blue eyes meeting Daphne’s green and suddenly she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. His hair was curly, and it spilled almost perfectly over his shoulders. He wore a plain, white t-shirt that was tucked neatly into his black slacks. She found herself taken by his sharp jawline and perfectly sculpted cheekbones. He walked over slowly, hands in his pockets. 

“This is Charles. He goes by Chucky now.” She wished she never met him - truly she did. Yet, that day she found herself swooning over him. He hardly said a word to her the entire time, merely watching her with intense eyes as she listened to Eddie and sometimes Tiffany. 

Charles sat across from her in an armchair, and beside him on the arm of the chair was Tiffany. Daphne, at first, found Tiffany to be nice enough. She was outgoing and complemented Daph’s outfit, and she seemed enthralled with Eddie’s story of how he met Daph. The younger woman couldn’t help but notice he left out her age. 

Sure, her birthday was in a few weeks, but that didn’t change the fact that she was seventeen now. 

Eddie stopped rambling for a moment, looking at an almost zoned out Charles. “You okay over there?” He asked finally, snapping the older man out of it. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Charles began, his voice gruff. It nearly sent shivers down Daphne’s spine. “I was just thinkin’ Daphne would look great with red hair.” 

Tiffany’s eyes lit up. 

“Wait, Chucky, you’re so right!” She exclaimed. She hopped onto her feet and traipsed over to Daphne, taking her blonde, curly locks into her hands. “I can dye this for you if you want.” 

Daphne never broke eye contact with Charles. There was a look in his eye, something unreadable. It looked like he was encouraging her to say yes. She stumbled over her words. 

“Y-yeah. Sure. I’d like that.” She ripped her gaze away from him and met eyes with Tiffany, smiling awkwardly at her. 

She had no idea what she was getting herself into. She wished she left the hallway when she had the chance.

[aspiffygoat]

Yooooo Spiffy! Mind tossing out some more neat F-Zero trivia, as a late night treat?

When F-Zero X released for the N64, Nintendo of America put on their site biographies for all 30 F-Zero pilots as promotional material. Nearly all of it conflicts with what was currently established as canon in the game manuals, future game bios, or any other sources. The community refers to it as "Snaky Lore." Some notable stuff was: - The name "Douglas Jay Falcon" - A new character named Jay Gonso Snaky (why fans call it 'snaky lore') who allegedly made Black Shadow immortal by using voodoo magic - Unionist Riots happening on a year that has yet to take place in the F-Zero universe - Pico being from a different planet called "Tortiz 3" instead of Death Wind - An "F-Zero Academy" that does not exist - Everything about James McCloud's bio being wrong I'm sharing this specifically so that people know that "Douglas Jay Falcon" is NOT Captain Falcon's name.

[thebibliomancer]

Universe X #6

Feat. I’m sorry but the worst Moon Knight look. Also, Sasquatch and the head and crotch of Guardian.

That’s why Moon Knight is firmly looking the other way.

To quickly recap the insanity so far: Mar-Vell is leading a revolution in the afterlife. To help this goal, his living child self is gathering powerful items on Earth. Captain America was traveling with him as his bodyguard but Cap super died. So now a bunch of other heroes like force femmed Thor, gorilla Hulk, child Banner, Spider-Man’s daughter Venom, and Mr Summers and his circus X-Men.

If any of those descriptors are confusing, I’m sorry, Earth/Universe X be like that.

Immortus is Pope now and he wants the terrigen mutated population of Earth to spread out and colonize the hell out of space. But first, he’d like Reed Richards to stop trying to cure everyone with his Human Torch towers.

A secret society called the Tong of Creel is gathering the pieces of Absorbing Man to resurrect him. They’ve been really successful at stealing several pieces underneath the noses of the superheroes.

Meanwhile, up on the Moon, Aaron Stack, Machine Man, is the new Watcher. He spends his time wondering why the multiverse and talking to Uatu, who constantly hurls abuse.

Also, Earth is tilted on its axis because Galactus slurped a baby Celestial out of the planet so everyone is going to freeze. You’d think this would be a bigger deal but nobody seems very concerned.

Universe X!

Today’s first Mar-Vell scavenger hunt stop is to Egypt, to retrieve the Resurrection Stone.

The Resurrection Stone is a fairly obscure item in the 616 with only a handful of appearances. So I don’t know if it’s meant to be the same one they’re talking about here. Because the one Mar-Vell is after is the statue of Khonshu.

Time for another weird Earth X Arc Welding!

Moon Knight and therefore Khonshu are relevant to today’s issue. So how does Khonshu work in the Earth X setting? Is he like the Asgardians? Sufficiently advanced aliens that have been gaslit into thinking they’re gods?

No, even weirder.

Khonshu is the Resurrection Stone. Which happens to have been carved from a meteor that hit Egypt. A meteor like the one that hit Wakanda and Antarctica. Khonshu is Egyptian Vibranium. And instead of melting metal or absorbing vibrations, Egyptian vibranium prevents you from dying and makes you hallucinate god.

… Sure, why not! Might as well be this!

When Lil Mar-Vell and co arrive in Egypt, Moon Knight is locked in eternal and pointless combat with a bunch of ancient Egyptian priests and temple guards, also immortal thanks to the stone.

Marv’s group throws their weight on Moon Knight’s side and fight so Mar-Vell can get to the temple and cloakaport the stone away.

Allowing Marc to finally die.

In one sense, putting him out of his misery. But since death is just being thrown back into eternal battle, I wonder if it’s much of a relief?

It at least puts him out of my misery, sartorially speaking, because when he shows up in the Realm of Death, it’s in a color-inverted version of his more classic outfit.

Looks pretty spiffy.

Mar-Vell and the gang return to Japan and Lord Sonfire gives them the Mandarin’s rings on the Mandarin’s chopped off hands.

I love how grossed out Mar-Vell looks. But he’s too chosen child of destiny to verbalize it. So, thanks, Venom. For saying what everyone was thinking.

Meanwhile, everything else is bad.

Nighthawk reveals he knows Gargoyle has betrayed him, leaking his prophecies to Mr Church in Immortus’ camp.

Gargoyle doesn’t see the problem with what he did but Nighthawk says that information is not only going to help Immortus’ mobs but also how the Tong of Creel knew when to attack and where to find the pieces of Absorbing Man. It’s been hinted a while that they had inside information and it turns out they’ve been reading the running narration.

In fact, the Canadian Human Torch has fallen, leaving Sasquatch and Guardian’s head the only survivors of Alpha Flight.

And while fleeing the slaughter, the two run into a feral tribe of Wolverines???? Universe X, what the hell?

But the Latverian Human Torch is also under siege. Thanks to Gargoyle’s information, Immortus’ mob knew when defenses would be thin with Thing off elsewhere. The mobs are breaking down the door to kill Richards and co. The Tong stole the head of Creel. And Mr Church sneaks past the Doombots to steal Doom’s time platform.

Mr Church. What an odd ominous one. Aaron’s end of issue appendix has him muse that there’s no information in the Watcher’s systems for the guy before he showed up to join Immortus.

He’s probably definitely Mephisto.

When Immortus starts losing it because he’s locked out of Limbo and mutating, he turns leadership of the mobs over to Mr Church.

Also, the Micronauts are spying on Immortus for some reason?

Meanwhile, on the Moon, Aaron drags the Kree Supreme Intelligence to the Watcher’s house.

Aaron wants the Intelligence to explain the multiverse to him but the Intelligence says Mar-Vell is on his way to kill him and Aaron will need to stop that or else bad things might happen to the multiverse.

I don’t know about kill but Dead Mar-Vell has lately been preoccupied that there are no Kree in the Realm of Death and decided his living self will need to talk to the Supreme Intelligence about it.

So if the Supreme Intelligence thinks Mar-Vell is going to kill him about it, I think maybe he knows Marv won’t like the answers.

So a lot going on. A lot and a lot of it weird.

I didn’t even mention the demon man in the colorful shorts.

Because I don’t know what it means yet.

Next time, the next issue.

[darkfeanix]

Feanix Reads Dragon Age Comics

#1: The Silent Grove

I'll be posting my thoughts on each series as a whole, rather then individual issues. Below the cut are all the thoughts I had while reading The Silent Grove.

WARNING: It does get a bit Alistair critical, as I feel like this series really brought out the worst in his character, which in turn brought out the worst in me.

Anyway, here they are, my thoughts:

The Silent Grove (I)

So, first thing's first, it's strange seeing young Varric here. It's a bit surprising how quickly I've gotten used to silver fox Varric in The Veilguard promotional materials, with the longer hair and a bit of beard growth. Younger, cleanshaven Varric just looks weird to me now. The art style also doesn't help. I'm pretty sure the art style was one of the things that turned me off the first time I tried to read them when they first came out.

I'll admit, as far as protagonists go, King Alistair wasn't a huge draw for me, and even when the comics were first releasing, I don't think I actually read them until after the final issue of Until We Sleep had been released. I was always more of a Morrigan boy, and even in the first game, there were times when Alistair grated on me. We'll return to that point later.

Now, Isabela on the other hand? Yeah, she's the reason I even started reading these comics. I do love my captain.

I'd forgotten that Zevran is mentioned by name in this story. Apparently he was meant to be in the comic in Varric's place, but was "cut due to concerns about party dynamics", which to me sounds like a skill issue. Zevran has a pre-existing relationship with both Alistair and Isabela, and it's well-established that Varric doesn't like going out (to the point that the entire party will roast him for it in Trespasser no matter who you have with you).

This is baseless speculation on my part, but I feel like they went with Varric because Varric is probably more popular than Zevran.

The Silent Grove (II)

Okay, I'd like to lodge a complaint: Isabela deserved a new outfit. Varric and Alistair both got spiffy new outfits. Isabella doesn't even get pants. And it's meant to be freezing cold. We open with a guard complaining about how cold it is (cold enough that we can see his breath). Then we cut to Isabela climbing out of the sea. Does she not feel the cold?

She obviously feels the cold; later in this very same issue we see Alistair putting his cloak on her. Why didn't Isabela get an outfit upgrade again? (Don't answer that, we all know why.)

I feel like Varric literally questioning what he's doing there proves my point; maybe it's fitting with his luck that he gets dragged into this sort of thing, but his role just as easily could have been filled by Zevran. Of course, that being said, I do enjoy it when he narrates his circumstances out loud. It's a fun character quirk.

I appreciate that we see a Vashoth (or possibly even Tal Vashoth) as a member of the Crows; it emphasises that the Crows really do take anyone into their number. A pity that all the others basically look like human men. Not elf or dwarf in sight, and no women.

I wonder if the intention was for the reader to believe the prisoner was Maric. He says it's too late, and Alistair's narration says that his quest has failed, but I'm trying to imagine reading this for the first time without having spoiled everything for myself. I feel like I would assume that the man Alistair finds is Maric.

The Silent Grove (III)

First shot of Yavana, flashback, from behind. No pants. Pretty sure she is only the second named female character in this series so far, and neither of them have been drawn with pants. I can literally see Yavana's butt cheeks. Ugh.

Lack of pants aside, she does have a really cool design, though.

This part felt like a lot of exposition, some pretty scenery, and Alistair saying that high dragons are worse than darkspawn. Really, Alistair? You fought during the Blight, and you think that high dragons are worse than darkspawn?

"In my life so far, I've taken the sword to three dragons. The big ones, I mean – not the ones that look like scaly, tooth dogs and love horse meat, but the high dragons that make the earth shake. Not even darkspawn are that savage. A dragon feed on anything. A dragon exists only to kill."

This reminds me way too much of Iron Bull's speech about dragons.

"Dragons are the embodiment of raw power. But it's all uncontrolled, savage… So they need to be destroyed."

Ugh. At least right after Alistair gives that speech in his narration, the dragon literally chooses not to kill him. He never gives any indication that he learns from his interactions with the dragon, though – at least, not that I remember. Maybe the next two issues will prove me wrong.

Anyway, we will come back to this later as well.

The Silent Grove (IV)

I love Yavana. No surprise, right? She's Morrigan's sister, and she's written almost like a mix of Morrigan and Flemeth. I do wish we could have gotten to know her more.

"In destroying what it does not understand, mankind would destroy itself."

But gosh, I really dislike the way Alistair is written… well, I was going to say here, but the truth is everything about his interactions with the dragon and Yavana makes him come across as narrow-minded and really unlikeable to me.

"Meaning you don't understand either, but it's what your mother told you."

Yeah, we'll come back to that later.

Claudio is… eh. He's a bit player. His connection to Isabela's past makes for some interesting plot developments, and he's obviously tied to the larger story involving Maric – though, as above, I'm not sure if I would have made that assumption if I hadn't been already spoiled the first time I read this. I probably would have assumed he was just planning on ransoming Alistair back to Ferelden or something. Or, heck, putting him in that prison like Maric was.

I appreciate Isabela deciding on the spot that she's not going to abandon Alistair. She's grown a lot from the women she was at the start of Dragon Age II.

The Silent Grove (V)

Isabela marching back into the Silent Grove and yelling Yavana's name is very funny to me.

I'd completely forgotten about Isabela and Varric making a deal with Yavana. That makes me even more annoyed about the ending of this arc. But we'll come back to that later.

"You wanted me alive. Now you have to try to keep me."

Okay, I'll admit, that's a good line. Some of that charming, funny Alistair shining through. A shame there's so little of him in these comics.

I do wish slut shaming Isabela wasn't something that the writer felt the need to carry over from the game. Even with Claudio being a bad guy, it comes across as really distasteful considering they've designed her character to show as much skin as possible.

Badass final page with Yavana standing over Claudio's body and talking about how getting the truth even with him being dead.

The Silent Grove (VI)

"You almost missed the fun. Evidently we're going to ask Claudio how it feels to be stabbed in the chest."

Oh Isabela, how I love thee.

Yavana's idea of a séance involves a lot more pyrotechnics than one might expect, but it is quite exciting. I am curious if she burned his corpse, or if it was some magic of Titus's to try to keep his name out of Claudio's mouth?

Yavana's explanation of the Hall of Sleepers, and what Maric's deal was, really convinces me that Alistair was wrong and that she does understand what she's talking about. In the same way that Morrigan prioritised sparing Urthemiel's soul from death even after Flemeth is killed. I don't think either one of them (certainly not Morrigan) does what they do simply because their mother told them to.

Which brings us to possibly my least favourite part of this entire eighteen issue series.

Fuck you, Chantry Boy.

It's later, so here we are. I hate this moment. It makes me hate Alistair, for doing exactly what Yavana says mankind has always done and killing what he doesn't understand. And yes, he says he does it because he blames her for everything that happened in Ferelden after Maric left, but here's the thing: Yavana didn't make the fucking deal with Maric! Flemeth did!

And the thing is, two issues ago he accused her of simply parroting what Flemeth told her. He accused her of not understanding what she was doing. Which is it, Alistair? Is she another pawn of Flemeth's, or is she the wicked witch who took your daddy away?

Except she didn't take him away, Maric made that choice on his own. He made a deal so that he would be able to save his country, and then he held up his end of the bargain by travelling to Yavana.

Uggghhh!

Issues ends with Alistair bemoaning his own status as a pawn and saying he's going to kill Titus.

And then his final narrative just feels so shoehorned because it's close to the kind of humour we're used to getting from Alistair in the game, but this isn't that Alistair.

"My name is Alistair Theirin, and I'm king of Ferelden. Long live the king, long may he reign! And so forth. Pray to the Maker he doesn't do something stupid…"

You just did! Seriously, fuck you, Chantry Boy.

Final Thoughts

Oof. It had some okay moments, but to be honest, the best part of this comic for me was Yavana and, well… Yeah.

The thing is, I don't feel like I'm familiar enough with Alistair's character to say whether or not he's acting out of character. Is all of this something that a hardened King Alistair would do? Or is it the writing emphasising all the worst parts of him without balancing it with what made Alistair so popular?

Anyway, not a great start to the re-read. I really hope I have more fun with Those Who Speak and Until We Sleep, but I'm done for the night.

[lurking-latinist]

It's interesting to see how Davie's narrative voice refers to Alan over the course of this chapter:

the stranger

the other (several times, to distinguish him from the captain)

the stranger (again)

the gentleman in the fine coat

the Jacobite

the other (again)

the gentleman

the Jacobite (again)

and then they introduce themselves.

It's interesting to see what Davie considers most salient about Alan at this point, and it's also very nice prose style; it reminds me of a post I saw recently about "stop referring to people by their hair color," which pointed out that you do need to refer to people by descriptions when your viewpoint character doesn't know their names, but you should think about what details are relevant and known. Alan's defining features at the moment are his social status, his politics (once they're revealed), and of course, his incredibly spiffy outfit.

[spinoskingdom875]

The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog is a great game for an April Fools' prank. I've yet to finish the game, but I will sometime this week.

And the outfits the characters wear are fantastic, especially Amy's birthday dress and her cute little hat! And Sonic looks very spiffy as a captain.

[heckyeahponyscans]

In my search for info about the Oldsmobile ad campaign, I came across this blog post:

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The story of “not your father’s Oldsmobile.” Or how some really bad advertising changed the culture forever!

October 14, 2008

Time for a story boys and girls. It’s a tale that requires we go back 20 years, before copywriters had Macs, before email, before I lost my hair. This story harkens back to a day when Oldsmobiles roamed the earth. And their commercials filled the airwaves. I should know; I made some of them. Including the campaign that served as Olds’ final and famous (infamous?) death gasp: “Not Your Father’s Oldsmobile.”

 Dad’s was better.

The line has become a pop culture catch phrase, in the same ilk –albeit attached to worse advertising-as “Got Milk?”  Both slogans have been co-opted literally hundreds of times, far outlasting their original intent. Try reading your morning paper and not finding a variation on either line. For example, about a candidate: “This is not your father’s Democrat.”  About a technological innovation: “This is not your mother’s sewing machine.” And so on. Sadly enough, more Americans are familiar with the Olds’ slogan than of Shakespeare’s finest sonnets. Way more.

A soft-spoken creative director by the name of Joel Machak wrote that famous line. I actually came up with the campaign’s tag: “The New Generation of Olds.” Both pieces were intended as lyrics. That’s right, a jingle! As a matter of fact, I was brought in to help Joel come up with the refrain. The piece went together as follows (sing along):

       This is not your father’s Oldsmobile…This is the new generation of Olds.

Pretty spiffy, eh? The word “generation” was key. If you recall, each commercial featured a celebrity and one of his or her offspring. This is why the campaign is so damn silly. Outside of a morbid fascination with ogling Ringo Starr’s purple-haired daughter or Dave Brubeck’s motley looking brothers, placing the kin of “B” and “C” celebrities on camera was pure folly. Though I will concede we anticipated Reality TV by 10 years! If you do nothing else today, go to the above link. Trust me.

Where’s my Cutlass Supreme?

The very first spot was for the “totally redesigned Cutlass Supreme.” The protagonist for this commercial was none other than William Shatner, appearing as; you guessed it, Captain Kirk! Riding shotgun was his lovely college-aged daughter, Melanie Shatner. A middling actress, she was pretty darn cute. She also was well endowed. And this became problematic given her wardrobe and where we were shooting. It gets damn cold in the Palm Desert at night. The diaphanous gown provided Melanie was meant to be futuristic a la Star Trek, but it did nothing to warm her up. Subsequently, her nipples went completely rigid, sticking up like Spock’s ears.

beam me up, Scotty!

While this may sound lurid and comical now, at the time (3 AM) it was a “situation.” Imagine the middle-aged suit from GM, replete in a satin Oldsmobile Racing Team jacket, making his way over to the director. “Excuse me, but we can see her nipples!”  Given we’d already shot scenes of Melanie in the gown, a wardrobe change was not possible. The solution? Duct tape. And thus her cleavage had a silver lining.

The other moment I’ll never forget was a captured piece of dialogue (unscripted) between William and his daughter. Between takes, they were side by side in the white Cutlass. Unbeknown to either, the mic was still on. Listening to Captain Kirk school his daughter about the virtues of pep and sleeping pills as a key to nighttime shooting was priceless. What a Dad. What a cad. In a way, it preceded his Emmy-winning turn as Danny Crane by some 20 years.

I know this is trifling gossip, and long past its vintage. But like everyone else, I’m beaten down from our grim economy and an evermore-depressing election. Not to mention the woes of Chicago’s sports franchises… When I was new I used to love listening to the old-timers tell bawdy stories from their shoots. Now that I have a few under my belt, I figured we could all use a respite.

----

As a post-script: in 2021 the writer returned to his blog after fifteen years away. He explained that he had dropped out of the advertising biz and become a substance abuse counselor. He began work just as Covid broke out. Wow! I find that inspiring! He also has a Youtube channel devoted to his aquarium hobby, check it out here!

[quinloki]

I kept forgetting to do this but here come my Blorbo Rankings One Piece Style for June. First up, the Top 10. Remember, I decided for June to not focus on blorbos I was attracted to but characters I cared about either due to attraction or because they were awesome people. I was trying to get more women into the rankings because I love a lot of female characters for who they are whereas the men are loved more on sexual attraction.

As always, 1-2 are unchanged but everything else changed from here on out.

People no longer on the list at all: THE FINEAPPLE (sad face), Eustass "Captain" Kid, Smoker, & Rayleigh.

People who are either new to the list or have returned from sabbatical: VIVI, Zoro, Nojiko, & Nico Robin. Two new faces and two returning faces.

Those who have moved UP: NO ONE! The people who moved up are the people who are new or have returned.

Those who moved DOWN: Everyone? Shanks fell 3-spots into 6th which was Marco's, Alvida fell 3-spots into 7th which was Kid's, Borsi Baby fell 3-spots into 8th which was Smoker's, and Sakazuki fell 1-spot into dead last which was Rayleigh's.

All the people who fell from their positions are the ones who knocked other characters clean off the list: Shanks replaced Marco, Alvida replaced Kid, Borsi Baby replaced Smoker, and Sakazuki replaced Rayleigh.

Now these people's positions were taken by the new faces: Nico Robin stole Shank's long-standing position of 3rd, Zoro took Alvida's position of 4th, Nojiko stole Borsi Baby's position of 5th, and Vivi righteously usurped Saka's position of 9th.

My Top 10 went from consistently having 1 woman (and occasionally from having 2 women) to having 4 women. It's 40% women now! And I still have my top 4 dudes: Arlong, Beckman, Shanks, & Borsi Baby.

I'd be okay if the ranks swapped around these characters. So long as my top 4 dudes remain and my top 3 ladies remain (Alvida, Vivi, & Nico Robin), I literally don't care how the last three spots even out. Characters can duke it out over those three spaces for life and I won't care. Just gotta get my favorite characters into their proper spaces and everything will be spiffy.

Onto the Top 20 which is also very different from May. O_O

I love how much impact a shift in perspective has on the rankings, going into it thinking one way vs thinking another.

It’s a neat thing to witness.

I am sad to see those four fall off the list, but the new comers are good, and the reason behind the shift is what makes it so intriguing.

What would be rough would be quantifying the cast based on “interesting” vs any manner of non-story-based appeal. Weighing characters during the choosing process would just take so long 😅