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sephirthoughts · 2 months ago

Text

The Ghost of Shinra Manor

Chapter 5 of this

This chapter is a brief interlude just focusing on the bellhop. It's not a whole proper chapter, so it's part 4.5.

summary: It's been two years-ish since the events of Dirge of Cerberus. Cloud visits his hometown, and investigates a rumor of a ghost, haunting Shinra Manor. If you're surprised by who it turns out to be, you are beyond my power to save, comrade.

tags: g-g-g-ghosts!!! sefikura, sephiroth x cloud, sane!sephiroth (sort of), post advent children, post dirge of cerberus, canon timeline, delusions, intermitten amnesia, low drama, enemies to…whatever the hell they have going on

warnings: horror, ghosts being bullied, brief body horror, references to death, canon-typical violence

rating: teen and up [BE ADVISED: THIS RATING WILL CHANGE]

screenshots shamelessly stolen from @soundcrusher who also deserves 100% of the blame for my obsession with this guy

Part 4.5: About that Bellhop

The Gold Saucer’s renowned Haunted Hotel may have looked crazy and chaotic from an outside perspective, but in actuality, every element of the seeming disorder was thoughtfully curated. From the holographic ghost projections, to the mechanical hands flailing around in the ‘graveyard’, to the ‘haunted’ grandfather clock, to the gigantic, eerie sculptures and bizarre paintings, to the carpet, furnishings, and lighting—everything was specifically fine-tuned to contribute to the spooky atmosphere.

The bellhop was no exception. His seemingly haphazard facial bandages were wrapped exactly the same way every day, without a millimeter’s deviation.

His pillbox cap was carefully pinned so as to never fall from his head, or even sit askew. His uniforms were perfectly tailored and meticulously maintained, before the ropes and bandages were secured around his person. Even his idiomatic speech and outré manner of greeting guests, were part of the carefully orchestrated performance.

For all the willy-nilly whimsicality of the place, beneath the surface, it was a well-oiled machine, and he was the operator, running things with a firm and unflagging hand. He had even personally contrived and built many of the actual machines, which provided the delightful little scares that his guests enjoyed.

Was he a control freak? Some would say so, but that would be to mischaracterize him. He thrived on order, regularity, and most of all, rules, but he didn’t share the same rigid and fastidious attitude toward rules that most of those type-A people did.

To Benjamin, who had the mind of an engineer, rules were not restrictions, they were the operating principles, by which any given system functioned. Both the sheet music that maintained harmony in the orchestra, and the key to comprehending the inner workings of the cosmos.

Everything in the universe operated according to rules, from private business policies, to municipal regulations, to the fundamental principles of physics. The only way to truly be safe, was to know the rules, inside and out. The only way to be truly free, was to fully understand the boundaries within which that freedom existed.

Somewhere between the esoteric concepts of man’s law and eternal cosmic law, lay the rules governing the supernatural. Or rather, the so-called supernatural. Benjamin disliked that term, because the things people placed in that category were as much a part of the natural ordering of reality as any tangible, mundane thing. It was just that most people didn’t know the rules by which those elements operated, so they seemed scary and chaotic. Much like his hotel.

And this was, indisputably, his hotel. He may not own it, but it was his home. His territory. He knew it better than he knew himself. Like the face of a lover, he could flawlessly trace its every detail in his mind’s eye. There wasn’t an inch of the place he couldn’t walk blindfolded with perfect confidence (unless someone’s children were running loose underfoot, which often happened, and didn’t count against him knowing his way around).

Every evening, just before the shift change, he would come down from his hanged-man rigging and do what the other employees called ‘his rounds’. This consisted of scrutinizing each area of the hotel for proper cleanliness and ambience (he was notorious amongst the cleaning staff for his stringent white-glove inspections, which even included the inner edges of the ornate picture frames, that hung ten feet high on the walls), greeting guests, sending small gifts to one guest or another, adding little extra touches to room service orders, and herding stray children out of off-limits areas.

“Victoria, is that going to 1201?” he called down the hall, to a newly hired maid, who was pushing a room service cart out of the kitchen.

“Yes, Mr. Benjamin,” the girl answered.

His nose wrinkled behind his facial bandages, as he approached. “Something doesn’t smell right, do you mind?”

“Yes, sir. N—no, sir,” stammered his flustered young employee.

To her further discomfiture, her intimidating, possibly actually insane (also weirdly good looking despite having most of his face covered, she was just now realizing) supervisor lifted the silver cover, from one of the dishes, bent down, and took a deep sniff, of what appeared to be a BLT sandwich.

“Just as I suspected,” he declared, pointing accusingly at the food item, with the air of a television detective, identifying the murderer. “This is regular whole-wheat toast! But the guest in 1201 is gluten intolerant!”

Victoria was beside herself. “G—gluten intolerant?”

“Gluten intolerant! Meaning that serving him this sandwich would be tantamount to feeding him a dose of poison.” He leaned closer, with a weird leer, squinting one magenta-red eye. “You don’t want to poison our guests accidentally, do you, Ms. Victoria?”

“No, sir! I wasn’t—I didn’t!” the girl sputtered, near tears. “I only took the trays the kitchen gave me, I swear!”

“Uh. Sorry. I have a…kind of dark sense of humor,” Benjamin mumbled awkwardly. Then he caught himself and cleared his throat, shaking himself back into his dignified-but-deranged butler character; spine upright, hands folded at the small of his back. “Nothing to be upset about, young lady, just go back and have the kitchen make it again. And tell them to be more careful, this time.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” the girl nodded, practically running away with the cart. When she was halfway back to the service window, she slowed down and frowned to herself. “Wait…how could he smell that it was the wrong bread, from down the hall?”

Benjamin, oblivious to the consternation he’d caused, was already on the next floor up, escorting an elderly guest to her room on one arm, while carrying all of her heavy bags in the other.

Apparently, she had so much luggage, because she’d come for an extended vacation, with her daughter and two grandchildren, who would arrive tomorrow morning. She was the cheerful and chatty type, but she quickly got winded, and walked with a cane and a pronounced stoop.

“My old bones ain’t what they used to be. I’m gettin’ tired so easy, these days,” she puffed, holding gratefully onto Benjamin. “I hope those two rascals will go easy on their gran, this time.”

Her little chuckle turned into a dry cough, as a pair of pale, boneless, sinuous arms, were twisted more tightly around her neck. From behind her head, another head peered out, with a bulbous, mottled scalp, sparsely covered by stringy black hairs, which hung over its ghastly, semi-humanoid face.

Semi-humanoid, because its eyes were too large and far apart, to look really human, and its smile split its mouth open at a disturbingly wide angle, revealing rows upon rows of pointed teeth, like a lamprey.

In actuality, this creature was not the ghost of a human, at all. It had begun as a lowly leech sprite, and had cultivated a more human-like form, by feeding on the pure life force of human beings, over several thousand years.

Its lower half was still a tail, like a slug, but if one had the stomach to look closely, one would observe that it was beginning to divide into two, and that there were things almost resembling flippers, protruding from the end. Just a few thousand more years, and it would be able to walk among humans, unnoticed. Then it would live like a king.

“I think a good night’s sleep, in one of our hotel’s fine beds, will charge those batteries right up, Mrs. Geller,” Benjamin encouraged, squeezing the old lady’s gnarled hand. “When you wake up in the morning, you’ll feel like a huge weight has been lifted off you. I guarantee it.”

As he said those words, he glanced over, and for a beat, seemed to gaze directly into the enlarged, milky eyes of the creature hanging on her back. The parasitic spirit’s gloating grin froze, and a shiver raced up its developing spine.

Did that bellhop just…look right at it? No. No way. It must’ve been a coincidence. It had latched onto and slowly devoured the life energy of enough of these fools to know that humans couldn’t see or sense its kind, at all. It was the cunning predator and they were the oblivious prey. That was the way things were.

So, why did it suddenly feel like a fly, that had stumbled into the web of a very dangerous spider?

The troublesome bellhop walked the old woman into her room and set her bags on the bed. Then, to the leech spirit’s manifest annoyance, he proceeded to hang up her clothing, and conveniently arrange all her other things in the room, too, chatting amiably with her all the while.

The conversation mostly revolved around her grandkids and how they were doing in school and how fast they were growing, but he never appeared bored or impatient. The leech spirit was beginning to suspect there was something wrong with his brain, when at long last, the young man made to leave.

“You have a lovely stay, Mrs. Geller,” he said, with a courtly bow, as he stepped out of the room. “If you need anything at all, day or night, dial zero on your hotel phone, to reach my desk. If I’m not there, the call will be forwarded to my personal cell phone.”

“Thank you very much, Benjamin. Such a good boy,” the old lady replied warmly, thinking it was a pity her granddaughter was born about fifteen years too late to make a match with this fine young gentleman.

Meanwhile, the leech spirit breathed a sigh of relief. It must’ve imagined that bloodthirsty glint in the human’s eyes, after all. He was finally leaving, and talking his weirdly oppressive aura with him.

Just as the door clicked shut behind the bellhop, however, a strange thing happened. Hundreds of wire-thin strands of something black and sinister swarmed in, under the door, raced across the room, and leapt at the old lady.

These horrifying things bypassed her, however, and whipped around the leech spirit, so fast, it didn’t even have a chance to react, let alone evade them.

Its reedy arms let go of the old woman and it fell to the floor, its ragged fingernails clawing impotently at the black strands that were winding around its face and throat, burning and itching wherever they touched, while more of them encircled its body, quickly binding its arms to its sides. The harder it struggled, the tighter they squeezed, cutting painfully into its flabby, white flesh.

It quickly realized that it was being dragged toward the crack under the door, but it couldn’t even kick up a proper fuss, with all these horrible threads covering its mouth. The thing gurgled and wriggled pathetically, as it was forcibly squelched through that small gap, squished and flattened, and then stretched out the wrong way, making it a ridiculously miserable sight.

It didn't even connect these bizarre strands to the bellhop, till it saw that the other ends were attached to his gloved hand. The spirit was enraged to the point of spitting blood, that this worthless human dared do such a thing, but it was completely helpless.

All it could do was weep inwardly for the injustice, of such an old and powerful spirit, nourished on thousands of human lives, properly feared and venerated among its kind, being casually towed around, behind a whelp of a human bellhop, like a particularly ugly sack of rubbish.

After a humiliating circuit of the hotel, the boy stopped in a back hallway, and unlocked an unobtrusive door, with a brass key, which opened on a dark, narrow stairwell.

The leech spirit had an ominous premonition. It was currently serving as the world’s most unappetizing dumpling, though, so it could only bear with being dragged up the stairs, its deformed head thunking against each step, along the way.

At the top of the stairs, the bellhop entered a small, rather outdated room, and shut the door behind him. The leech spirit sensed the aura of other ghosts, all over the place, but they were comparatively weak and useless, not even a match for itself, so it immediately gave up any ideas about being assisted.

Standing with his back to his captive, as if to show his utter disregard for it, the human removed his bellhop cap and set it on a dresser, then slowly unwound the bandages from his head. The spirit’s stubby body curled up and began to tremble, where it lay on the floor, and for good reason.

As the bandages came off, the thickest, heaviest black qi that even that ancient creature had ever seen, came curling off the boy’s body, like smoke from an incense burner; running in little wisps and rills down to the floor, where it pooled around his well-polished shoes.

Ghosts and malicious spirits loved black qi, normally, and gravitated toward it, but this was so intensely dark, so concentrated and potent, that it was another matter, entirely.

It was the difference between basking in the ambient warmth from a fireplace, and sticking your hand directly into the naked flames. Darkness at this strength and purity would obliterate any spirit it touched, of any alignment.

“You like to feed on the energy of humans, don’t you?” the young man’s pleasant voice asked, over his shoulder.

When he turned to look down at the spirit, it saw that his pale, fine-featured face was crisscrossed with deep, blue-black cracks, which seemed to have something squirming and writhing beneath them.

His crimson irises were gone, and his long-lashed eyes had turned pitch black, sclera and all, as if they weren’t eyes anymore, but pits, opening upon the formless void.

If it had the capability, the leech spirit would have (quite understandably) pissed itself in fright, as the deceptively weak-looking human knelt down over it, and smiled eerily.

��I’m human. Why don’t you try feeding on my energy?”

As he spoke, in a resonant rasp, that grated painfully in its spectral ears, that noxious, black qi spilled out from between his lips, instantly corroding the spirit’s exposed flesh, wherever it touched.

“What’s the matter? Too rich for your blood?”

The beset creature could only thrash and howl in its bonds, half-mad with terror and agony and bitter resentment, as the cocoon of black threads constricted viciously.

The very last thing it saw, as it was torn apart and devoured by the Darkness, were the ink-black eyepits of that demon in human skin, observing its suffering with an expression of cool disdain.

Just as that abyssal miasma digested the last traces of the unlucky leech spirit, there was a brisk knock at Benjamin’s door.

“Benny, are you in there? I know you’re on your lunch, but the guests checking out of 1304 have a problem with their bill, and they’re demanding to see the manager. Can you come help?”

“Sure thing, Ann,” Benjamin called back cheerfully, as thousands of black, spider-silk tendrils retracted into his body. “I’ll be down in two shakes!”

When he returned to his room, late that night, Benjamin had a low fever and was aching and stiff all over, from exerting so much of that dark power, dealing with that creature.

He knew it was dangerous, and was aware of the heavy toll it took on his body, when he let it have its way, but he couldn’t just stand by and let evil things prey on innocent humans. Then he’d be no better than the rest of the monsters.

He changed out of his uniform and hung it up neatly, then went to the bathroom, to take out the contacts he was required to wear for work, which made his cat-slit pupils appear round, and splash some water on his waxen face.

With a shudder, he avoided looking directly at his own reflection. He couldn’t stand seeing those hideous cracks, close up and in the light, like this. Fortunately, the meal seemed to have made the thing inside sleepy, so at least nothing was squirming around under his skin, at the moment.

He was too nauseated to eat properly, so he opened a bag of salty-vinegary potato chips, which always calmed his stomach, for some reason, and sat down at his desk. Exhausted as he was, he still had half a gig of scanned books and newspapers and journal articles, from the public archives, to go through, for Cloud Strife.

It was too bad he couldn’t take time off work and just go up to Nibelheim, in person. He’d be able to tell what his shapeshifting-amnesiac ghost’s deal was, right away. And even if he couldn’t, he’d at least be able to get rid of it, for him.

Though, to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t entirely convinced Cloud wanted to be rid of the ghost, as much as he would have Benjamin believe.

Benjamin’s theory, based on nothing but intuition, was that the ghost’s attachment was Cloud. If so, it stood to reason that Cloud was also somehow attached to the ghost, too, despite his claim that he had killed the man and would prefer him to stay dead.

Could a strong, mutual attachment have something to do with the ghost’s abnormalities? Doubtful. If that were the case, every person you had particularly strong feelings about would be hanging around you, after they died. That would muck up the natural order of life and death on the Planet, resulting in all kinds of imbalance, and eventually, total chaos.

Benjamin gave a little shiver. Though he loved order and rules, and observing systems working in perfect harmony, there was a part of him, deep down, that was thrilled to the marrow by the idea of flicking the spinning top. Upsetting the equilibrium, just to see it all come crashing down.

Not from malice, but from pure curiosity. A gnawing desire to find out what would happen, next. What new things would arise, when the old ones were destroyed. Because, as much as he hated to admit it—hated himself for the perverse pleasure he took in the idea—he knew that chaos wasn’t actually against the rules.

God is change and death his prophet. The raging fire purges the detritus from the forest, leaving clean and fertile soil for new life. Entropy consumes order to feed chaos, which routs out stagnation, so that the system can be reborn.

Order leads to chaos leads to order. It was breathtaking to contemplate.

“But I’m against all the rules, so where does that leave me?” he muttered, to himself, as he munched on a chip.

Gradually, as he scrolled through page after page of dry, long-winded, historical text, he began to droop. When the tiny words were dancing and blurring, on the screen, he leaned back to rub his eyes and stretch, knocking a pencil off his desk.

Before it hit the floor, a long, reddish thing, that looked sort of like a thick, rubbery ribbon, dropped down from the ceiling, caught it, and replaced it on the desk.

“Thanks. And…gross,” Benjamin said, wiping the pencil off on his pant leg. “I told you not to pick things up with your tongue, Dan.”

The blue-faced hanged ghost, dangling above his head, who’d had the appellation ‘Dan’ bestowed upon it, when this human began living in the room it was haunting, sulkily retracted its tongue.

Meanwhile, a skeletal hand, attached to an equally skeletal arm, sticking out of a black cloak sleeve, which was notably not attached to the rest of a cloak, emerged from the shadows behind Benjamin, and set a steaming mug on the desk.

“Warm milk and honey! Thank you, Mort!” he said eagerly, then hesitated. “But this’ll put me to sleep. I still have a lot of work to do.”

The skeletal hand jabbed his arm with its forefinger bone and pointed to the clock, then the bed.

“Alright, alright,” Benjamin grumbled. “You’re pretty bossy for a disembodied appendage. Mm, this is really good, though, so I forgive you.”

The hanged ghost, which was still pouting from being scolded, rolled its bloodshot eyes at the skeletal hand, and inwardly berated it for being a suck-up. It felt a certain sense of entitlement to the room and its inhabitant, since it was already here, when the young quasi-human arrived, and didn’t like the other ghosts getting too cozy with him.

The day Benjamin moved in, the hanged ghost hadn’t seen a living person in over a decade, which was when this disused room, in the old annex of the hotel, had last been rented to guests. Needless to say, it was extremely pleased to finally have something to do.

It was dangling from an exposed ceiling beam, in a far corner of the room, plotting how it would scare this idiot out of his mind, later tonight, when the idiot in question came around with the feather duster and politely asked it to move, so he could clean out the cobwebs.

The hanged ghost nearly fell off the ceiling. It had never been spoken to like this by a human, before. Why wasn’t he scared? How could he see him? Why was he dusting out all the lovely cobwebs??

Too stunned to know what else to do, the hanged ghost just did as the human asked and moved. He had planned on dominating the interaction, but he’d lost the initiative, now, so all he could do was hang around and stay out of the way, while the human cleaned the place, from top to bottom, while humming jaunty little tunes to himself, and everything.

“I’m Benjamin. I guess we’ll be sharing a room, now,” the human said, with a bow, after he’d finished his cleaning. “What’s your name? Have you been here long?”

The hanged ghost could only stick out its long tongue and gesture helplessly.

“Oh, sorry. You’re a hanged ghost,” Benjamin said, with a wince. “Of course you can’t talk. In that case, I’ll just have to give you a name, myself. How about…Dangly Dan!”

The hanged ghost, who’d had just about enough of this shit, made his most ferocious and terrifying grimace. Far from being frightened senseless, as would have been polite, Benjamin only laughed merrily and said, “Dan it is! Good to meet you, roomie!”

Thus began Dan and Benjamin’s cohabitation. As it turned out, it wasn’t so bad. Benjamin’s cold, windy yin energy made the place exceedingly comfortable to Dan, and Benjamin seemed to like having someone to chat to, so things proceeded rather amicably.

Dan had not considered the possibility of his human’s aura attracting other ghosts. That is, not until the skeletal hand sticking out of the cloak-sleeve followed Benjamin home, one day, and much to Dan’s disgust, never left.

Not only was it an eyesore, it was always showing off, arranging little trinkets in ways that made Benjamin laugh, and doing the dusting and sweeping, even though no one asked it to. It liked to act as if it was attached to a whole being, which preferred to keep its true form hidden, but Dan was of the firm opinion that it was just a shitty arm, putting on airs.

Their fourth roommate, the drowned ghost, had crawled up the tub drain to lie in wait, in Benjamin’s bubble bath, one night, to which he had apparently taken great umbrage. Dan had been dozing above the radiator, when he was startled out of his senses by a shriek, a splash, and a crash, from the bathroom.

There was a scuffling noise, then an irate, bathrobe-clad Benjamin dragged the drowned ghost out to the kitchenette, wrapped up in the shower curtain, and proceeded to give her a stern lecture about decorum and modesty, and how it was improper for men and women who were not married to one another to share a bath, while she shivered and dripped all over the kitchen floor.

After Benjamin cooled down, he apologized to the stupefied ghost for losing his temper, and told her that she was welcome to use the bath, so long as he wasn’t using it at the time, and provided she didn’t make a mess. She was christened ‘Eliza-bath’ (as punishment, one could only assume), which Benjamin mercifully shortened to Liz.

Since then, she’d been inhabiting the drains, and had undertaken the chores of dishwashing and cleaning the bathroom. Dan didn’t really mind having Liz around, since she stayed in her lane, and wasn’t a self-important nuisance getting involved in everything, like that stupid arm.

The final roommate was a creeping shadow, that lived under Benjamin’s bed, and minded its own business. The only reason Dan didn’t completely forget it existed, was because sometimes its weird eyeholes would open and peer out at him, when he was picking up Benjamin’s clothing from the floor. Also, if anything rolled under the bed, it would helpfully push the item back out.

Having finished the warm milk and honey, Benjamin put the mug in his tiny kitchenette’s sink and went to brush his teeth. When he returned, the pale and bedraggled drowned ghost (clad only in her long, murky, seaweed-like hair, goddess help us) had crawled up the sink drain, and was washing the mug, while blithely dribbling water all over the floor. The skeletal hand was used to this, however, and was chasing her around with a dish towel, mopping it up.

“Thanks, Liz, you’re a peach,” Benjamin yawned, as he passed by.

Dan, still desiring to redeem himself after being scolded, dropped his long arms down, to pull back the bedcovers and fluff Benjamin’s pillow.

“Nighty-night, Dan,” the young man smiled sleepily, as he was carefully tucked in by the monster from other people’s nightmares.

Dan returned a positively blood-curdling grin, before an indistinct, shadowy shape slithered up the side of the nightstand, and shut off the lamp.

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gorjee-art · 4 months ago

Note

(dunno how dis work. But i try. )

🖊

I was browsing through my inbox and I found this little pen that I’ve missed! I’ll answer this one for Sebastian cause I think he’s very interesting and I don’t have a chance to talk about him all that often.

Sebastian is CERBERUS’ mortician and scene cleaner! He specializes in everything dead and gone. Even does taxidermy and headstone masonry as a hobby.

He has an unnatural obsession with death and everything surrounding it, far too engrained in the macabre that he personally has zero fear when it comes to it!

He’s been classified as the bounty hunting group’s vulture. That while Joe and Charles are being vicious coyotes ready to tear apart at their next meal ticket, he waits nearby to pick at the scraps.

Sebastian is Elysium’s omen of death, dubbed the “Crooked Man”, that if he’s nearby, the reaper lingers near. Many newcomers have learned the hard way that messing with the old man is unwise. For many showboats who had been cruel to the elder was quickly shot between the eyes, or mauled the next day.

His bravery towards death starts to make sense when he mutters utterances of “This isn’t how I go.” Or “I’ve seen how I die.” He will tell tall tales of how he has seen death with his very eye, that has told him many secrets about his life, as well as how he would die…which he is actually very pleased to know about! He will keep his death a secret until his dying breath. Many tend to think it’s him attempting to embellish his life story to seem more interesting or just plain delusion. However his pals are slowly starting to believe it’s true, for everytime he throws himself into danger it is almost eerie how he seemingly comes out of it unscathed.

Last little funfact about Sebastian is that, due to some early events causing his brain damage. He has developed Prosopagnosia, or otherwise known as face blindness! Thankfully his friends have varying body traits and voices he recognizes that he won’t confuse easily but he will have trouble with too many new people and constantly give out the wrong names.

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joshth647 · 2 months ago

Text

Woop woop woop woop (had no idea what to post today so I went with this to ease boredom):

Addendum to last post: here's the whole soundtrack for Sonic Carnival Adventure; it's pulled from various sources (I'm no soundtrack composer lakdkfkkxk but this SHOULD give you an idea) listed in the txt but here's the list if you don't want to check that (under cut, LONG LIST AHEAD!!!):

1-01: Title Screen - Title (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

1-02: Main Menu - Opening Demo (Sonic Mega Collection [Plus])

1-03: Data Select - Sonic 3 MegaD Mix (Sonic Gems Collection)

1-04: Hub World - Extras (Sonic the Hedgehog '06)

1-05: Cosmic Funfair Zone Act 1 - Carnival Night Zone Act 1 (Sonic the Hedgehog 3 Prototype)

1-06: Mid Boss - Boss Theme (Sonic GT)

1-07: Cosmic Funfair Zone Act 2 - Carnival Night Zone Act 2 (Sonic the Hedgehog 3 Prototype)

1-08: Stage Clear - Mission Clear (Sonic the Hedgehog '06)

1-09: Vs. Dr. Eggman (Phase 1) - Boss Battle Day (Sonic Unleashed)

1-10: Great Garden Zone Act 1 - Emerald Hill Zone Remix (Sonic the Hedgehog 2)

1-11: Great Garden Zone Act 2 - Emerald Hill Zone Act 2 (Sonic the Hedgehog 2 HD)

1-12: Vs. Dr. Eggman (Phase 2) - Boss Battle Day Remix (Sonic Unleashed)

1-13: Item Shop - 2-Player VS Results (Sonic the Hedgehog 2)

1-14: Majestic Ruins Zone Act 1 - Rusty Ruins Zone Act 1 Saturn (Sonic 3D Blast)

1-15: Circus Tent Bonus - Slot Machine Bonus Stage (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

1-16: Majestic Ruins Zone Act 2 - Rusty Ruins Zone Act 2 Saturn (Sonic 3D Blast)

1-17: Studio Scramble Zone Act 1 - Studiopolis Zone Act 1/Superfunkolis (Sonic Mania)

1-18: Studio Scramble Zone Miniboss - Hi-Spec Robo Go! (Sonic Mania)

1-19: Blue Spheres Bonus - Blue Spheres (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

1-20: Studio Scramble Zone Act 2 - Studiopolis Zone Act 2 Jahn Davis Remix (Sonic Mania)

1-21: Studio Scramble Zone Boss (Jax) - Havoc Prognosis Jahn Davis Remix (Sonic Mania)

1-22: Funhouse Frenzy Zone Act 1 - Toy Kingdom Zone Act 1 (Sonic Advance 3)

1-23: Funhouse Frenzy Zone Act 2 - Toy Kingdom Zone Act 2 (Sonic Advance 3)

1-24: Power Sneakers/Speed Shoes - Hey You, It's Time to Speed Up Again!!! (Sonic Adventure 2)

1-25: Chatting With Ragatha (The Host) - Spagonia Day (Sonic Unleashed)

2-01: Candy Canyon Zone Act 1 - Sweet Mountain Act 1 (Sonic Colors)

2-02: Invincibility - Invincibility (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

2-03: Candy Canyon Zone Act 2 - Sweet Mountain Act 2 (Sonic Colors)

2-04: Candy Canyon Zone Act 3 - Sweet Mountain Act 3

(Sonic Colors)

2-05: Candy Canyon Zone Boss - Ruby Delusions (Sonic Mania)

2-06: Robo-Rabbit Boss Intro - Theme of Dr. Eggman (Sonic the Hedgehog '06)

2-07: Vs. Mega Robo-Rabbit - Vs. Egg Cerberus & Egg Genesis (Sonic the Hedgehog '06)

2-08: Marbled Mines Zone Act 1 - Under Ground Zone Special Remix (Sonic the Hedgehog 2 8-bit)

2-09: Marbled Mines Zone Act 2 - Under Ground Zone Remix (Sonic the Hedgehog 2 8-bit)

2-10: Redhot Ravine Zone Act 1 - Red Volcano Zone (Sonic Blast 16bit)

2-11: Redhot Ravine Zone Act 2 - Red Volcano Zone (Sonic Blast)

2-12: Redhot Ravine Zone Lava Chase - Redhot Ride Zone Boss (Sonic After the Sequel)

2-13: Mini Games - Glowball Bonus Stage (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

2-14: Movie Theatre - Gallery/Sonic 3 Data Select (Sonic Generations)

2-15: The Museum - Collection Room/Door Into Summer Remix (Sonic Generations)

2-16: Aquatic Altar Zone Act 1 - Lost Labyrinth Zone Act 1 (Sonic the Hedgehog 4: Episode I)

2-17: Aquatic Altar Zone Act 2 - Lost Labyrinth Zone Act 3 (Sonic the Hedgehog 4: Episode I)

2-18: Twisted Manor Zone Act 1 - Mystic Mansion Techno Cinema Remix (Sonic Heroes)

2-19: Twisted Manor Zone Act 2 - Mystic Mansion Noble Demon Remix (Sonic Heroes)

2-20: Challenge 1 - Emerald Beach Remix (Sonic Generations)

2-21: Challenge 2 - Metal Sonic Rival Rush (Sonic Colors Ultimate)

2-22: Challenge 3 - Main Theme Saturn (Sonic 3D Blast)

2-23: Challenge 4 - Chao Ruins (Sonic Battle)

2-24: Challenge 5 - Super Sonic Racing Remix (Sonic Generations)

2-25: Challenge Clear - Act Clear Gold (Sonic Advance 3)

3-01: Frosty Cascade Zone Act 1 - Cool Edge Day (Sonic Unleashed)

3-02: Frosty Cascade Zone Act 2 - Cool Edge Silent Dreams Remix (Sonic Unleashed)

3-03: Radical Coaster Zone Act 1 - Asteroid Coaster Act 1 (Sonic Colors Ultimate)

3-04: Radical Coaster Zone Act 2 - Asteroid Coaster Act 2 (Sonic Colors Ultimate)

3-05: Radical Coaster Zone Act 3 - Asteroid Coaster Act 3 (Sonic Colors Ultimate)

3-06: Radical Coaster Zone Boss - Vs. Frigate Orcan & Frigate Skullian (Sonic Colors Ultimate)

3-07: Wardrobe Room - Options Menu/System: Select (Sonic Generations)

3-08: Super Sonic & Super Tails - Super Sonic Theme (Sonic the Hedgehog 4: Episode I)

3-09: Super Pomni - Unused Super Sonic Theme (Sonic the Hedgehog 3 Prototype)

3-10: Royal Fortress Zone Act 1 - Camelot Castle Remix (Sonic and the Black Knight)

3-11: Royal Fortress Zone Act 2 - Camelot Castle Remix (Sonic and the Black Knight)

3-12: Royal Fortress Zone Boss - Fight the Knight (Sonic and the Black Knight)

3-13: Chao Garden Day - Neutral Chao Garden Remix (Sonic Adventure 2)

3-14: Chao Garden Sunset - Join Us 4 Happy Time (Sonic Adventure)

3-15: Vortex Base Zone Map - Eggmanland Night (Sonic Unleashed)

3-16: Vortex Base Zone Act 1 - Eggmanland Day Silent Dreams Remix (Sonic Unleashed)

3-17: Vortex Base Zone Act Clear - Stage Clear (Sonic Generations)

3-18: Vortex Base Zone Act 2 - Eggmanland Day AshZone Remix (Sonic Unleashed)

3-19: Final Stage Intro/Eggman's Final Trick! - Extra Demo 1 (Sonic Advance 3)

3-20: The Final Act - Have Some Death Eggs/Death Egg Zone (Sonic the Hedgehog 2)

3-21: Final Boss Cutscene - Blaze in Panic (Sonic Rush)

3-22: Final Boss (Phase 1) - Vs. Nightmare Eggman (Sonic Dream Team)

3-23: Final Boss (Phase 2) - Big Arms (Sonic Generations)

3-24: Ending Cutscene - Ending (Sonic Lost World)

3-25: Credits - Staff Roll (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

DISC 4 (Extra Tracks)

4-01: Funhouse Frenzy Zone Act 3 - Toy Kingdom Zone Act 3 (Sonic Advance 3)

4-02: Level Select - Options (Sonic the Hedgehog 2)

4-03: Kingdom Valley Act 1 - Kingdom Valley Act 1 (Sonic X Shadow Generations)

4-04: Kingdom Valley Act 2 - Kingdom Valley Act 2 (Sonic X Shadow Generations)

4-05: Funhouse Frenzy Zone Act 1-B - Angel Island Zone Act 1 (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

4-06: Funhouse Frenzy Zone Act 2-B - Angel Island Zone Act 2 (Sonic the Hedgehog 3)

4-07: Great Garden Zone Act 2 (Genesis)

4-08: Studiopolis Zone Act 1

4-09: Studiopolis Zone Act 2

4-10: Havoc Prognosis (Original)

4-11: Vortex Base Zone Act 3 - Terminal Velocity Act 1 (Sonic Colors)

4-12: Vortex Base Zone Boss - Chaos Angel Zone Boss (Sonic Advance 3)

4-13: Vortex Base Zone Boss Pinch - Chaos Angel Zone Boss Pinch (Sonic Advance 3)

4-14: Superboss - Vs. Egg Dragoon Remix (Sonic Generations)

4-15: Superboss (In-game)

4-16: Special Stage - Special Stage (Sonic Advance 3)

4-17: Great Garden Zone Act 3 - Yuki's Theme (Queen of Hearts '98/'99)

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic #the amazing digital circus #tadc #tadc au #tadc carnival au #carnival au #the amazing digital carnival #sonic fangame #sonic fangames #crossover fandom #crossover

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mrcompass · 5 months ago

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Where does Damian come from?

"Damien was not included on the HD Academy's recruitment list. In fact, he is the only one with absolutely no personal history, participation in tournaments, or any other data to be found. Everything about him is cloaked in mystery." Hikaru in Episode 94 - Spirits last battle.

As Hikaru perfectly points out, Damian's origins are a mystery. However, this lack of a clear backstory only draws more attention to his character. While Damian's origins may not directly impact the kind of blader he truly is, they can certainly add depth to his character. Based solely on the anime, there is no definitive answer regarding his background, so this analysis will explore popular and lesser-known theories. Keep in mind, this is not a judgment but my personal analysis of possible backstories and what they could mean for the character.

A descendant of Hades?

One possibility is that Damian is related to Pluto or is a descendant of King Hades. This theory is based on the close ties between Damian and Ziggurat (a top member of the Hades Cult) and the physical and behavioral similarities between Pluto and Damian. Both characters have similar fringes, and Damian initially had dark blue hair. Blue and purple are close on the color spectrum, and Damian’s hairstyle is somewhat reminiscent of King Hades and Rago, particularly with the spikes at the back of his head. Some may also argue that the dark purple aura Damian gained in episode 100 is evidence of him possessing dark powers similar to Pluto.

However, this theory can be easily debunked. The physical similarities between Pluto and Damian are, in my opinion, subjective. We also saw a dark aura leaving Toby after he broke free of the arrangement. Moreover, many characters in the series share similar hairstyles but are not related, such as Yu, Zeo, and Chris. However, these characters share a narrative similarity: all three were hurt or betrayed by someone they considered friends—Yu by Ryuga, Zeo by Masamune, and Chris by his friends. Damian and Pluto share narrative similarities too. Both are sadistic and arrogant, with a warped view of the world, influenced by distinct individuals: Hades and Ziggurat. Hades' prophecy, which Pluto holds as "absolute," and Ziggurat's "chosen one" narrative, respectively contribute to Pluto's belief in the world’s inevitable destruction, and Damian's inability to comprehend the true essence of Beyblade. Damian, already alienated by Ziggurat's influence, wouldn’t need to be subjected to Hades’s; this is more in line with Pluto and Rago’s traits. Pushing this theory might be an attempt to make Damian "special," but he is already "special" due to his compatibility with the arrangement system. Damian doesn’t need nepotism; being a relative of Pluto would only serve to validate his delusions. Furthermore, since he only appeared in Metal Masters his connection to Hades would be irrelevant. Finally, Damian is a manga character, unlike Pluto, who is exclusive to the anime. It wouldn’t be surprising if the animators took inspiration from Damian’s design when creating Pluto. After all, they have similar Beys (as I pointed out in my analysis of Hell Kerbecs), and Cerberus is Hades's dog.

An artificial being?

The second theory I want to discuss is one I saw online and was reminded of by @lady-lazagna. This is the possibility that Damian was artificially created by Hades Inc. Although this might seem unreasonable, science fiction is not uncommon in MFB or the Beyblade franchise as a whole. For example, Doji had his consciousness transferred into a robot. In Beyblade: V-Force, Zeo Zagart is actually a cyborg. Zeo shares some similarities with Damian; they could almost be considered counterparts. Both are the final opponents of the main protagonist during the World Championship, both possess a gold Cerberus-based Bey, both obey a doctor, and both have to collect something from the opposing teams (in Zeo’s case, the Bladebreakers’ Bit-Beast, and Damian’s battle allows Ziggurat to collect data). In the manga, the American team consists only of Zeo Abyss and Damian Hart. Since MFB Zeo got the name from the original series Zeo, one might assume that his partner got a similar story to the latter. Moreover Damian was trained by Hades Inc., a company specializing in selling weapons led by Faust. What is certain is that Damian, as a blader, was "created" (a term used by Faust) by Hades Inc. In the anime, the absence of any information about Damian, his inability to understand fun, and his surprise when he got dirty suggest that he had an unusual upbringing or that he isn’t human. What could invalidate this theory is that Dr. Ziggurat is a neurologist and a specialist in energy, which doesn’t necessarily indicate he could create an artificial human. Also, if he could, he would probably sell the process. Damian was called out for being a fake blader, a blader made in a laboratory because that is what he is. His power comes from a machine and his bey was created throught data. Even his personna as the "chosen one" is somethin crafted by Ziggurat. In a way Damian "the blader" is artifical.

Ziggurat's relative?

The third theory, and one of the most popular, is that Damian could be Ziggurat's son or relative. This could explain why Damian was not on the recruitment list and why Ziggurat selected that child in particular (because Damian was in his reach). They share a similar hairstyle and personality traits: both are extremely arrogant (Damian has a god complex, and Ziggurat thinks he is superior to Einstein), they have little to no empathy, they are manipulative, and they like to experiment with their inventions or abilities on others. If Damian had to pick up those traits, it would be after living some time with Ziggurat, and he happens to have a privileged relationship with the Doctor. Furthermore, Ziggurat being Damian's parent or caretaker would add more to their respective parallel with Ryo and Gingka Hagane. As a matter of fact, Ryo is everything Ziggurat isn't: kind, sometimes lacking the seriousness expected from his position, yet having respect and understanding of beyblade. The way he raised Gingka certainly echoes Ziggurat's treatment of Damian. It is more present in the manga, but Ryo was essentially Gingka's mentor by teaching him everything he knew about beyblade and his view on the sport. The Doctor actually did the same with Damian, as he is the one who gave him what seems to be his first bey. The last two actually share the same opinion on the arrangement; for example, in episode 100, Ziggurat genuinely believed that Damian became invincible thanks to his special arrangement. In a way, Ziggurat transmitted his view of an artificial beyblade, in which the blader makes no effort to train or connect with their bey since everything is conceived for them by HD Academy. This is the opposite of what Gingka had to endure: since Ryo faked his death, his son had to retrieve L-Drago alone, living on the streets for months, while also becoming stronger and familiarizing himself with his bey. Ryo later set more obstacles by destroying Gingka's bey-pointer as Phoenix. In the finale of Fusion, he let him find the key to defeat Ryuga on his own. As you can see, Ryo wanted and made sure Gingka became more independent. This is a stark contrast to Damian, who was given everything on a silver platter just because he could handle the arrangement. In a way, we can see this as two father figures providing diametrically opposed education to their protégés. And let's not talk about the moral implications. If Ziggurat was Damian's caretaker, him manipulating and experimenting on the child he was supposed to protect would certainly illustrate how far he is willing to go to accomplish his plan. In my opinion, it wouldn't be out of character since he took advantage of Toby, who was hospitalized with a life-threatening disease. However, it might seem strange for Ziggurat to have a child, given his disdain for children. I think that if he ever wanted a child, it would be in the same way people buy a pair of shoes. Everything for him is a product that can be bought or acquired in one way or another. There is also the question of the last name, since Damian's is Hart. Still, Ziggurat could have adopted him or changed his last name to cover his tracks in case someone investigated him. The way he treats people and uses his bey are appropriate indicators of his mindset. If this is true, it would make Damian a more tragic character because he was inadvertently close to a man using children as test subjects, effectively treating them no better than tools. And when you look at Ziggurat, it’s not hard to imagine that he wouldn't provide a healthy and happy childhood to a child. This would explain why Damian doesn't know what fun means, for example.

Yet this theory isn't without its flaws. The first is that, once again, just because two characters look alike doesn't mean they are related. It's not uncommon in anime and manga for a character to be revealed to have a prestigious lineage (it is actually the case for the legendary blader of the solar system). Taking into account that adults are barely present, it's not surprising that fans would want to give characters a parent when the opportunity presents itself. In addition, Ziggurat is an anime-only character, so it's not impossible that the animators intentionally made him look a little similar to Damian. After all, Damian holds the bey of hell, and Ziggurat is the leader of Hades Inc., in addition to having similarities with the Christian devil. Regarding the personality part, it could mainly be due to the arrangement, since even Zeo became nasty because of it, and let’s not forget that Toby gained a brand-new personality, even forgetting his name. It is also worth mentioning that the members of the Hades cult, particularly Doji and Ziggurat, are corrupt people who corrupt others. In Metal Fusion, this was illustrated with Yu, who had a close relationship with Doji, almost like his right-hand man—they even shared an evil laugh together. If you couple that with the arrangement, which is known to alter personalities, then Damian's behavior can be explained.

Just a random kid?

A final theory I wish to discuss is that Damian was a normal kid who was recruited by Ziggurat through his contact with structures such as schools, hospitals, or even orphanages. Hikaru mentions that Ziggurat had worked with those kinds of structures before creating Hades Inc. and then left them behind. A good businessman knows how to preserve his network, so it is very possible that he kept contact with those institutions. This seems logical, but why would Ziggurat have recruited Damian from there and not use someone from HD Academy?

One possible answer is that he ran out of test subjects, forcing him to search elsewhere. Ryo and Hikaru explained that the arrangement caused bladers to get hurt because they couldn't handle the sudden power. As a result, only those who could handle it were selected for Team Starbreaker. However, only two members—Jack and Zeo—were on the recruitment list. Jack, for example, was ranked 2038. This means there were at least 2036 bladers who served as test subjects, some of them strong, but the majority weak and unknown. The point is that Ziggurat had enough profiles to understand who could be compatible with the arrangement system, which could explain why he chose Damian in particular. This might also explain why he shifted his interest from Zeo to Toby while seemingly not knowing if Toby could withstand the power of the arrangement. One proof of that is when he told Zeo that his sudden surge of power during his fight with Masamune helped improve the system. He also asked for Ryuga's help to enhance it. This means that Ziggurat clearly knew how his creation worked, and after so many failures, he could very well identify a successful test subject.

A second reason could be that Ziggurat secretly tested the arrangement on children to verify that it was operational, and Damian turned out to be a match. This random match with the arrangement is the core of Damian's philosophy and why he calls himself "the chosen one." As a result, this theory aligns more with the canon of the show.

A third reason for why Damian was specifically chosen could be that Ziggurat wanted to see what would happen if the arrangement was used on someone who had never played beyblade before. This seems to be Damian's case, considering his reaction when the Doctor gave him his first bey. Moreover, in the flashback when Damian met Dr. Ziggurat, he wore a sweater and shirt, which are not uncommon as a uniform. This suggests he could have just come from a school.

One thing that intrigued me in this flashback is the way Ziggurat looked at Damian—almost fondly (left). This is quite unusual for the cold-hearted doctor and could hint at some connection. Yet, just before the final match, when he visited Toby, he looked at him the same way (right), and in the following episode, he was already planning to experiment on him. This would mean he sees Damian as an exceptional test subject, nothing more, nothing less.

The lack of any personal history for Damian supports this theory. If Damian were simply an ordinary child chosen for his compatibility with the arrangement, it makes sense that the series doesn’t provide an elaborate backstory. This theory also highlights Ziggurat’s manipulative nature. He could have easily taken a child from a school or similar environment, molding him into a blader devoid of personal history to suit his purposes. This reflects Ziggurat's tendency to treat people as mere tools to achieve his goals.

In summary, Damian's mysterious origins offer fertile ground for fan theories, each providing unique perspectives on his character. Whether Damian is a relative of Pluto or King Hades, a creation of Hades Inc., Ziggurat’s son, or simply an ordinary child, is not necessarily the most important aspect. What remains clear is that Damian's character, regardless of his origins, is deeply shaped by Ziggurat and Hades Inc. Damian is a compelling antagonist, not because of any inherited legacy, but partly due to Ziggurat’s influence, which twisted his potential and what little identity he might have had to serve a larger agenda.

#metal fight beyblade #mfb #beyblade metal masters #damian hart #gingka hagane #zeo abyss #dr ziggurat #toby mfb #jack beyblade #hikaru hasama #pluto beyblade #rago beyblade #zeo zagart

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wolfertinger · 7 months ago

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another ask post spam. answering in one post to keep important info up front.

i havent seen him publicly claim this. but i have seen a lot of radqueers feel comfortable interacting with and identifying in his art. one such user was highlighted but i have no way of proving salem even know they exist.

however i would make a point of publicly denouncing any pedophiles and zoophiles that reblogged me, because thats dangerous. if you allow one nazi into your bar you now have a nazi bar. i do find it weird how when ever people accidentally misgender or are weird about his trans characters he immediately publicly lashes them but these people somehow "arent noticed".

his partner wis has been claiming so on "x"/twitter on his behalf after he Deleted Fucking Everything when people recognized who he was on twitter. he indeed does claim he had "racial delusions" which is a really interesting way of shifting the blame from actually being racist. you can even see here he immediately softens the blow, of saying he was being racist by immediately claiming to also be harassed. while not making the mental fucking correlation people will harass racist people for being racists. nope he is always the victim in every scenario and he never instigates any of the treatment towards him, ever.

and yes he did really try to come back to twitter, only to run at the first drop of critisism.

this is also the most major concern in my eyes because this is the exact behavior he exhibited on puppychan. he genuinely became obsessed with attention and praise and in my eyes hes doing it again. especially with how often he makes posts that hit every buzzword you can think of. i think you can, and should be proud of your racial identity your sexuality your gender and your disability, but theres a point where it very clearly becomes more about saying the right things, rather than doing them.

im not and never did say he never draws fat people but theres a noticeable difference between the body types he consistently draws (that gets him the most attention) and what he draws once or twice for attention than drops. im just saying he constantly mentions wanting to make characters with disabilities cellulite stretch marks, so on, but never actually develops these characters beyond 1-2 personality traits and horny posts. bc thats all he cares about. those are good examples but one of those characters belongs to a different person entirely. the cerberus's weight also seems to fluctuate, and once again i dont see any characters that are fat beyond whats "cute" "sexy" """acceptable""" chubby.

hi wis!

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ephemeraev · 6 months ago

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生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

i am nothing without my love for you.

&.&.

if i never loved you, you would never see me as someone that’s useful as well—you’d never look at me the same. shame on you for taking advantage of my feelings and ruining my life.

i had a glimpse of the simple truth.

it was gut-wrenching, it angered the kindest edge of my sword as it learned about the conviction of the only knife you chose to carve the aesthetics of my coffin—through my own thoughts, you had me killed in the place where i pile my repressed desire and hatred.

it was my mistake to slander the law of secrecy—i illegally stole a glance at how your brows frowned; how the skin on your forehead folded into creases; and how your mouth slightly opened yet it could not utter any syllable—when i asked about what do you know about me.

you’d number the things i am of use to you—like how i can easily maim the serpent that has been owning your endless nights; how i cut off the vines that’s holding you back. you’d list your luck, but never my truth.

never my political standing and philosophies of life nor the haste of my own cerberus. never the crater of my anger that’s only a few milliseconds away from marking the beginning of a holocaust to my delusions.

how cruel it is if i'd cast a visual impression of a foreign book with no hardcovers and a letter of acknowledgement, even though the rolling dice mandated me to act the role of a diary for you.

would you see me as stranger if i knew how your eyes would squint from laughing too much?

ephemeraev | would you?

#ephemeraev #reading #english literature #quotes #lit #poem #english #original poem #prose on tumblr

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aliciadurhamillustration · 9 months ago

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Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made Analysis

Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made is a fascinating film about belief and how far a delusion might take you when presented in the right circumstances. The film begins by posing a question: Will the following “lost media” have a negative effect on you physiologically simply by viewing it?

The found media is about a young woman, Oralee, and her kid brother, Nathan, digging a hole to Hell. In the beginning, it is unclear whether both children believe what they are doing is real, or if Oralee is indulging in Nathan’s imagination. Most stories about a journey to Hell or the Underworld involve the characters literally descending underground. Orally comes up with a clever solution, claiming that the forest they are in is the place where the Devil landed when he fell from Heaven, and the hole they dig (only about five feet deep) represents a spiritual transition into five layers of Hell. This ensures that the children never have to leave their campsite in the forest and maintains a level of skepticism for the viewer.

Upon entering the forest, the children pass under an archway naturally formed from a bent tree. This represents the first “gate.” It is perhaps a coincidence that the tree looks like an entryway, but the number of coincidences throughout the story will build up providing evidence that the Hell they enter is real. It’s also no ordinary forest, it’s a suicide forest. Thus blurring the divide between the dead and the living.

They begin with a ritual to protect themselves from whatever they might encounter before they descend. It involves symbols from various religions, and the prayer that they chant is clearly made up and comes from none of the religions they are appealing to. This is an important detail because it maintains the illusion that what they are doing is make-believe, and yet it still seems to have an effect. It especially has an effect on young Nathan who chants the prayer as faithfully as that of any real-world religion.

After about a foot of digging, Nathan announces that they are in the first level. Oralee points to a squirrel, a very real creature, and claims that the squirrel is a demon in disguise. The squirrel in question is a stop-motion puppet. This is jarring to the viewer because everything else in the film lies in the realm of realism. It makes us wonder if the squirrel appears as “off” to the children as it does to the viewer. It is the first instance in which we wonder if their journey is not so make-believe after all.

Upon entering the second layer, Nathan begins seeing black figures behind the trees. The boy has been having nightmares, and it is a well-known phenomenon that people with sleep deprivation will experience hallucinations, particularly shadowy figures from the corner of the eye. Are these figures a result of Nathan's paranoia induced sleep deprivation, or are they demons?

In the third layer, there is a scene where Nathan spots a man and a woman on a canoe at night. The man is canoeing and the woman sits hunched over and naked. This scene can be interpreted two different ways. The man is a kidnapper and the woman is his victim; Or, is the man actually the ferryman, and the woman is a soul being ferried across the river Styx? It conjures up a parallel between sexual and religious experiences. Is this scene symbolic or literal? Perhaps the scene is both.

In the fourth layer they encounter Cerberus. Surely we will know if this is all real upon seeing a three headed dog; but inconveniently, the viewer is only shown a dragging chain. They also wander upon two men, which freaks Oralee out so much, she insists they end their journey short. She grabs her brother and a few things from their campsite, and flees. After some time, Oralee is perplexed to find that they have ended up at their own campsite again. Did she simply get turned around in her panic; or is Hell keeping them in that forest, and they are only able to leave by the same path they came in?

In the fifth layer the children face their final trial. They are kidnapped by the two men. The men are clearly demons. They are filthy, sexually perverse, and violent. One even sports antlers on his head that resemble horns. What's more, is they don’t speak the same language as the children. This further alienates the children from the world they came from, making them feel like they are in an entirely new world.

The final layer is the center of Hell, and so the children must pass through the fire of Satan, represented by an oven shaped in the figure of Baphomet. Nathan passes through triumphant, but Oralee is now questioning her entire reality. She is finally convinced that Nathan’s delusion is real. Nathan, covered in soot, mow looks like the very demons they have been so afraid of. She has been extremely loving towards her brother up to this point, but will her fear take over and end up getting Nathan killed?

This is an example of how far delusions can go. They can turn a skeptic into a believer. They can turn innocent children into murderers. Can they even convince a healthy person that they are about to die?

The film poses this question to the viewer once again along with an anecdote: There is an Australian Aboriginal tribe called the Arrente who execute their condemned by sending the executioner to point a bone at them. This is called bone pointing, and it is all that is needed for the condemned to be “cursed” and eventually die.

This anecdote ties the whole film together. We recall moments where Nathan looks directly at the camera. Something actors rarely do, if never. We recall the gun at the very end, pointing at the camera, and of course, the face of Astaroth.

Although one would have to have lived in the Arrente tribe their entire life in order for the psychosomatic self-willed death to work, even to an avid horror fan, the implications are unsettling. It makes me wonder how someone who truly believes in demons would respond after watching Antrum: The Deadliest Film Ever Made. -AD

#horror #horror movies #film #antrum

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kyndaris · 2 years ago

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Hot Airing over Antiquity

Despite our chances of soaring over the Cappadocia region in hot-air balloons being dashed by the poor weather, we still had one last opportunity in Pamukkale. It might not have caverns and deep gullies, but it was still impressive to hover over the ‘Cotton Castle’ in all its limestone glory. And also take in the ancient city of Hierapolis via air.

Nothing screams adventure more than looking upon an ancient amphitheatre from above. Or, you know, running the risk of dropping your phone and losing all evidence of your overseas trip. But, I hear you, dear reader, say, it’s all about the experience, right?

Wrong! Here in the internet age, if there are no pictures, it’s doubtful it even happened. And even WITH photographic proof, editing software makes it easy to question EVERYTHING. Coupled with the fact that I hate taking pictures of myself? Why, it could be easily claimed that I stole all my photos from Google.

I didn’t, of course (what kind of travel blogger would do that), but it’s something easy that detractors can claim. Not that I have any detractors. My little corner on the internet is rarely frequented and when it is, it’s mostly by people I already know in real life. Which is exactly how I like it!

Regardless, the trip up in the air was quite smooth. We were up in the air and I didn’t even feel a thing. Best of all, we didn’t crash land. Nor did we become a ball of flame that hurtled to the ground in a fiery explosion. I might not have liked being bombarded by fossil fuel natural gas every time the pilot fired up...well, the fire...but I am thankful for getting an opportunity to take to the skies and look down at all the unworthy ants crawling down beneath me.

Delusions of grandeur, thy name is Kyndaris!

Once we landed, we packed hurriedly into the minivan and headed straight back to our hotel. And it was here that I bid a silent farewell to my Malaysian ballooning companions. I might not have gotten any of their names but I did overhear most of their conversations as they called family and friends while riding up in the balloon. And while I was very tempted to make my known in at least half of their calls, I resisted the urge.

So kind of me! So magnanimous!

All right. I think that’s enough self-aggrandising from me. Back to detailing my actual exploits while on holiday.

After returning to hotel, I went back to the room that I shared with Popo and readied to luggage to bring down to the coach. Then it as off to actually explore Hierapolis by foot. Or, more technically, as a chauffeur for Popo and her friend as I drove around on a modified moped.

The name, Hierapolis, is Greek in nature and according to the information board that I took at the site, means ‘Sacred City.’ It was presumably founded by one of the successors of Alexander the Great. In 188BC, it was passed into the hands of the Kings of Pergamon before becoming one of the wealthiest cities during Roman times. At the sight, there was plenty to see including a ruined temple of Apollo and a statue dedicated to Pluto, or Hades. I only recognised him because of the three-headed guardian to the Underworld, Cerberus, that stood at his side.

The city also featured many iconic Roman buildings including baths, gymnasium and theatre. I certainly knew that my 17-18 year old self would have been leaping for joy if I’d visited then, giving my interest in Ancient History and, in particular, the Flavian period of the Emperors.

Young children might be able to tell me in excruciating detail about their favourite dinosaurs. I will respond with my own rant upon my supposed subject of expertise - the Julio-Claudian emperors and the Flavian dynasty, which followed after Nero and the Year of Four Emperors.

History aside, it ought to be known that despite being the Sacred City of antiquity, Hierapolis was abandoned following an earthquake in about 616 AD that left only a few crumbling buildings in its aftermath. Despite this, there are signs of Seljuk presence in the ruins. Which would indicate that people had still frequented the site up until 400 years after the devastating quake.

But because of that, the city was almost pastoral in appearance with swaths of green covering the ruins. What made Hierapolis so special for us, though, was the ‘Cotton Castle’ that the city was built atop on. Layered all in white, the city was favoured with warm thermal waters that bubbled to the surface and which were rich in minerals. Over the years, it had covered the cliff tops in a layer of white limestone. And even in this modern age, those thermal waters continue to gurgle, which Popo got to enjoy by dipping her toes in.

There was also a swimming pool with sunken columns at the city that visitors could pay to enter.

Talk about taking advantage of what mother nature has given you! I however, simply enjoyed admiring the scenes of Europeans floating in the warm waters before inspecting the adjacent museum where displays of old pottery and statues could be seen. There were even carved reliefs depicting the coronation of Septimius Severus, a Roman Emperor, by the Goddess Nike and one that saw Dionysus, the Greek God of Wine and Debaurchery, partying hard with nymphs, centaurs, satyrs, the cherubic Eros and Pan.

After drinking in our fill of the city, we had a quick lunch in what felt like a communal cafeteria that stunk of oil before heading back on the road. This time we were headed westward to the Aegean Sea! Kusadasi, here we come!

#turkiye #hierapolis #hot air balloon #Roman emperors #Pamukkale #Cotton Castle #travel blog

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theshadyrodian · 21 days ago

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I personally LOVE that he sticks with his morals so so much. He feels like such a whole character because he denies Shepard blatant acceptance of their choices no matter what (unlike other characters… cough cough).

He grieves Shepard basically indefinitely — even with an unromanced mshep he says, “losing you felt like losing a limb”. He loves and respects them (in whatever capacity) but was NEVER going to join Cerberus, because as OP says, they are quite literally a terrorist organisation.

I find ME2 sooo goofy because the whole game, even as paragon, Shep, at best, goes, “well they don’t manage me, we’re just working together”, and at WORST has the delusion to say, “they work for me”. And then in ME3 they make Shep feel so guilty for working with Cerberus (as they should), and the fandom gets mad when Kaidan is questioning Shep about Cerberus operations !!!!!

Of COURSE he’s going to ask — especially considering Shep’s “we’re working TOGETHER, I don’t work FOR them” — if Shep had any idea about what was happening on Mars. And of COURSE he’s not just going to believe Shep saying, “hey I’m the same, believe me”, because he’s SEEN the horrific shit Cerberus has done to people.

Kaidan is so so forgiving, he’s more trusting than I am. If my ex came back from the dead and worked for a disgusting terrorist organisation, then was like, “hey, join me, I won’t tell you anything about my relationship with this organisation but haha they don’t control me I swear,” I’d ALSO be like, “hey, uhh, no ???”

Anyway. He’s overhated and I’m so sick of it. “I hate that guy, I always make him die on Virmire and I don’t even feel bad.” Congratulations? I don’t care.

the amount of people who are like "omg i ditched kaidan for garrus after he was mean to me on horizon!!" baffle me. shit on bioware's writing for making shep work with cerberus all you want, but kaidan calling shep out on this and not joining them is NOT the issue. in fact, him reacting like this is why i love him??

he specifically states he trusts shep, just not cerberus. which is the only rational response in that whole entire goddamn game!! like?? you spend all of me1 stopping cerberus operations. they kill several alliance soldiers and admiral kahoku, try to make a rachni army -- they are WELL known for cloning and ais... miranda even outright states she wanted to plant shep with a control chip. there is literally zero reason for kaidan to believe the shep in front of him isn't some cerberus sleeper agent. or an ai. or indoctrinated. or being manipulated (THIS ONE IS CANON BTW). even if he trusts shepard, he doesn't trust cerberus not to pull any of this. quite frankly, i'm baffled more companions don't have this exact, entirely justified concern.

loyalty is important, but blind loyalty is dangerous.

honestly, the crew in me2 is lucky that the illusive man was so weirdly and uncharacteristically insistent on shepard remaining untouched. things could have gotten very bad otherwise.

being best friends with someone, or more notably, being in love with someone, isn't the end all be all magic potion in this world. being in love with someone doesn't mean you should blindly trust their actions. if my significant other joined a terrorist group, you can bet my ass i wouldn't join them! sorry! if anything, it's healthy that kaidan has his own sense of morals and priorities he follows over shepard. he's his OWN person, love shouldn't be something that makes you suddenly give up who you are and what you believe in.

not to mention kaidan is entirely out of the loop for the whole game. his intel states that cerberus is behind the abductions (the horizon incident is partially a result of cerberus' fiddling btw), and that shep has been alive and never even reached out to anyone. he doesn't have the information we the players have. he doesn't know that the illusive man insisted on no control chip. he doesn't know about the lazarus project or its specifics.

and as for the "cheating" discourse if you romance someone new in me2, i do personally believe shep getting with one of the me2 love interests is cheating on their me1 love interest. to shep, they skipped those two years. they wake up as they did during the me2 prologue. no time has passed. and then they immediately get with someone else after one (1) argument with their love interest over them, may i remind you, joining a terrorist group. even if you don't think it's "technically" cheating, it's at the very least pretty trashy and flakey.

if anything, i'm gonna say it! kaidan is more forgiving than i'd be! the fact that he even sends an email saying he still cares and that they can see what happens after this is all resolved is WAY more than i would have done. the fact that kaidan will find out shep got with someone else, and STILL be willing to give shep a chance is like. man. it's saying a lot. i am just saying.

imagine losing someone. you see them literally die as your ship explodes and they burn up in the nearby planet's atmosphere. you grieve. you put yourself into your work. then suddenly, two years, later. they pop back up again. ALIVE. and with a terrorist group. and basically tell you the equivalent of "just trust me bro" despite the fact that while you trust them, you don't trust the terrorist group. so you're like hey, what the fuck. why are you with a terrorist group. and they're like i'm not with them, we just have common goals. and you're like. i'm gonna say it again. i trust you, not the terrorist group. okay?? i can't join you for this reason. please be careful out there, seriously.

and then they immediately jump into the pants of that one guy you knew back on a mission from two years ago.

what would you do?? would you not feel hurt? betrayed? upset? confused?? i'm sorry, i'm completely on kaidan's side. i'd go as far to say that he's far more understanding than he should be in me2.

me3 is all about regaining that complete and undying trust back, and that cerberus didn't fuck around w shep. or that being with cerberus didn't change them. his "loyalty" quest is just visiting him in the hospital and showing him shepard still cares. that they're still the same. that cerberus truly didn't alter them. that there was more going on. that shepard was forced to work with cerberus out of complete necessity and only did what they thought was right. and i think that's neat!!!!

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #i am TIREDDDD of this goddamn fandom and their obsession with garrus vakarian #I LOVE HIM TOO OKAY? BUT I’M NORMAL ABOUT IT #my love for kaidan however….. haha oops #i hate the ‘my fave should be everyone’s fave’ mentality #diverse thought is actually okay! let’s not be assholes about everyone’s preferences #i say #as i’m being a bit of a prick re: garrus stans #no but seriously #the kaidan hate pisses me off so much #THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT HUSBAND. MY KIND WELL ADJUSTED KING #if you don’t like him FINE but let kaidan enjoyers enjoy him in peace and quiet xxx

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chuunibyou-showdown · 2 years ago

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we know which chuuni is the most chuuni but which chuuni is the most annoying.?

Anghel isn't necessarily the most chuuni, he's simply the one who won by the chuunis' own arbitrary standards. But anyways here's my own top 3:

The bnha boy who lost in the first round

This is half me being a bnha hater and half genuine. I've never watched bnha but going by his wiki page and what few screenshots I saw of him he would be annoying via bragging about his intellect (that he does not have if his stats are anything to go by). This is way worse than evil eye chuuni delusions because it isn't even amusing. He doesn't even seem to have a gap moe non-chuuni mode. He would appear out of the blackboard or something to jumpscare me and laugh maniacally and it would be a whole annoying ordeal.

2. Setsuna

He's endearing, but even though he has a standard case. There's something about him that makes me feel he would be extra annoying. If I implied he didn't have powers once he would cerberus rental me and I would have to deal with the cerberus. He would then discover that I don't like being licked by dogs and pull his "licked by dogs who ate gross stuff" schtick. I could just yank him off said dog and then have my revenge but it would still be a pain and I would never be safe around dogs again.

3. Megumin

This is half "she would genuinely be annoying" and half "The way the konosuba cast are written kind of weirds me out" way. I'm not elaboratingb because I would likely get people in my askbox talking about how I "Just don't get it".

I feel like I could either humiliate the rest of the chuunis to get them to leave me alone if need be, or would find them endearing enough to handle. (This approach is not reccommended for IRL Chuunis. It is simply too easy to switch off a fictional chuuni's personality via mentioning their fear of heights or by bringing up the time they got #owned by a shopping cart something)

#except for the gensh*n one. she's actually tied w the konosuba one for similar reasons #asks #not a poll #their annoying traits here are mostly in jest. I don't hate chuunis as a character type (Obviously) however if i encountered them irl #they would be a force to be reckoned with and not in the way they want to be

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sephirthoughts · 3 months ago

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The Ghost of Shinra Manor 👻

It's still spooky season till after Día de los Muertos so it's not technically late!

summary: It's been two years since the events of Dirge of Cerberus. Cloud visits his hometown, and investigates a rumor of a ghost, haunting Shinra Manor. If you're surprised by who it turns out to be, you are beyond my power to save, comrade.

NOTE: i was raised by outdoorsy, log cabin, roughing-it parents and there will be a lot of details about this type of living because that is what i like

warnings: references to death, PTSD, past abuse, etc. all of hojo's greatest hits, mention of animal death in the context of ethical subsistence hunting/fishing, canon-typical violence, technical nudity but i didn't describe anything so you'd have to imagine it yourself which is not on me, pervert

rating: teen and up [for now]

Part 1: Reunion

A big, black, Fenrir model motorcycle roared up the dirt road, leaving clouds of dust in its wake. Its golden-haired rider adjusted his goggles and pulled his black scarf up, over his nose and mouth. It was late spring, which was still mid-winter in the Nibel region, and as he drew nearer to the mountain, the wind grew colder and sharper, till it felt like it was full of tiny, icy needles.

He had a little hunting cabin, up there, that no one else knew about. They knew he went somewhere, it was just that he didn’t specify the location to anyone but Cid and Vincent, who had helped him fix the place up, and were sworn to secrecy.

Why didn’t he tell the others where it was? Why would he? He went there to be alone. To decompress, when the weight of people’s lives got too heavy to carry. When their voices began to cut into his skull like buzz-saws, and he felt the thread of his tolerance strained to the snapping point.

Even for a person with a normal brain and no life-altering trauma, things would have been claustrophobic, in their little house. Marlene and Denzel were underfoot every minute of the day, and their continued presence meant that when Cloud wasn’t out on long deliveries, he and Tifa had to share a bedroom. He couldn’t fall asleep, with another person in the room, though, so they didn’t use it at the same time. He was a night person, anyway.

She tried to act like she wasn’t hurt by his refusal to share a bed with her, but she was a shit actress. He had attempted to make her feel better by explaining that he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for girls—or for anyone, really—but he could tell she didn’t really believe it. Or that she at least thought of it as something they could work on.

Everyone (except Vincent) thought that. That something was wrong with him, and that he’d get better, if they persevered in telling him so. The way he was didn't make sense to them, therefore it wasn't normal, therefore it was a problem that needed to be solved. Hooray for the neuro-typical majority.

No one ever asked Cloud what he thought. They just told him what he should think, and then made decisions for him. Most of the time, it was easier to just go along with it, especially since he didn’t want everyone to be mad at him. Them being mad at him meant they’d talk to him even more, and use louder voices. He hated that.

He should have insisted on getting his own place, a long time ago. He and Tifa had been playing house from necessity, at first, but there was nothing actually keeping them together, now, aside from habit. Habit and guilt.

Who knew when she started to think of it as a real family. As if she and Cloud were a mother and father, with a couple of kids. As absurd as that was. They were barely more than kids, themselves.

When Cid and Vincent got married, people got even more obnoxious with the hints and "jokes" about when him and Tifa were going to tie the knot. She’d act all embarrassed and explain that their relationship wasn’t like that, but she’d glance at him, with that look in her eyes, when she thought he wasn’t paying attention.

He sighed, as he rounded a long curve in the road. He knew himself well enough to know that he’d probably wind up giving in and just marry her. Didn’t seem like a very happy ending, for either of them, but who got one of those, these days?

It did seem like an especially shit deal for her, though. Marry the kid no one liked, from your backwater hometown, live in a shithole two-bedroom over a bar, slinging booze and taking care of two adopted kids, while your asexual husband spends most of his time away, for work.

Asexuality was a spectrum, though, and Cloud was somewhere near the middle. It just wasn’t the heterosexual middle. He made an earnest effort, once, but he couldn’t get it up for a woman, no matter how hard he tried, and it just wound up being awful and making the girl cry.

Fucked a couple of guys back when he was a trooper, but that was rare. Not that there weren’t plenty of interested troopers and even SOLDIERs, it was just that he had never wanted any of them. What he had really wanted was Sephiroth.

Cloud was nine years old, when he fell in love with the perfect face, that he saw on television and the recruiting posters, that were always plastered all over every vertical surface, in town. The obsession only grew stronger, as he grew older.

He joined up as soon as they’d take him, at age fourteen. The training was miserable and grueling, but he gritted his teeth and worked his ass off, keeping his idol firmly in his sights. Whenever the opportunity came up, he applied to the SOLDIER program. For all his diligent efforts, he met with rejection after rejection.

Several years passed, that way, with disappointment weighing ever more heavily on his heart. But just when he was losing hope that he’d ever meet the object of his worship face to face, he was assigned to a mission with the silver soldier himself. Wouldn’t you know it, that mission was to check on the reactor, in his very own hometown.

They say never to meet your heroes, but the implication is that you’ll be disappointed. Cloud was not disappointed. Sephiroth was everything he had ever imagined, and more. Ten times more beautiful, and a hundred times stronger and faster. His legendary height was one thing to know logically, and another thing entirely to experience in person. He was literally superhuman.

And yet, despite his angelic appearance and godlike strength, he wasn’t arrogant or demanding, at all. He was thoughtful and soft-spoken, and obviously cared for his subordinates. He asked their opinions, and actually listened. Encouraged them, rather than berating them. He even learned and called them by their first names. It was the most humanely Cloud had been treated by any superior, apart from Zack.

Following those two around, on that mission, Cloud fell more hopelessly in love with his silver-haired deity, than ever. He loved Sephiroth with his whole young soul. Right up to the moment he watched that famous blade pierce his mother’s heart.

Cloud Strife died, that night, as surely as Claudia had, and whatever this thing was, that he had become, was born. This thing capable of killing gods and monsters. This thing that survived years in a mako tank, being tortured by that bastard Hojo. This thing that had absorbed Zack’s memories, and remembered everything but Zack. This thing that hated Sephiroth, with every fiber of its being. Hated him as much as Cloud had loved him.

The sun was low in the sky, behind a blanket of grey clouds, when he finally pulled up to the clearing, where his unassuming cabin was tucked away.

He swung his leg off the saddle, then he winced and clutched his chest. His heart had been aching more and more as he approached Nibelheim. Not in the metaphorical sense, because of the tragedies he’d been through there—it was actual, physical pain.

He wasn’t exactly sure when it started, though, bcause he was so used to pain, it just got shoved to the back of his mind. Which it did again, now. It wasn’t bad enough to incapacitate him, so he ignored it, and unbuckled the leather panniers, which he slung over his shoulder.

The cabin was locked up tight, just like he left it, with all the traps and wards in place. Not surprising. No one came up this way, anymore, since the reactor shut down.

Fortunately, the cabin didn’t need the reactor, for power. He’d bought an old, Wutaian, nuclear generator, to heat the water and supply electricity, and hooked it up with Cid's help. Thing was expensive as hell, but it was quiet, reliable, and would last literally forever.

He stepped inside and typed in a code on a wall panel. When the generator hummed to life, he switched the electric lights on, and took a look around. The place was a little dusty, since he hadn’t been there since last summer, but otherwise, everything was just how he left it.

It was a simple, single-room cabin. Nothing fancy, except he and Cid had redone the insulation and added the electrical wiring. Water came from a dedicated well, deep enough to take advantage of the Nibel region’s unique geothermal situation, and not freeze.

There was a bed in one corner, with a frame of roughhewn logs, and a cedar trunk at the foot, where the blankets and pillows were stored. The bathroom door and the kitchen were on the other side (just a stove, small refrigerator, a few cabinets, and a sink), and the fireplace was central. In the opposite corner to the bed, there was a steel camp table, with two folding chairs, as if he’d ever have a guest here.

He tossed his panniers on the bed and went right back out to carry in firewood. Supply was getting low. The cupboards were pretty barren, too, but he’d go into town tomorrow to stock up on canned and dry goods. Those were just a supplement to the main source of food, up here, which was hunting.

When he was a kid, hunting was a long and grueling ordeal, with uncertain payoff. Now, augmented by Sephiroth’s cells and whatever else Hojo did to him in that lab, it was as easy as a trip to the grocery store. He left and returned with a brace of rabbits, within half an hour. It was late spring, so they were already nice and fat, too.

With the ruthless efficiency of a seasoned survival hunter, he skinned, cleaned, and washed them, and set them roasting on the iron spit, over his little hearth. He was out of anything resembling spices, but the meat was good enough roasted, with just a little salt.

That night, as he lay in bed, that ache in his chest seemed to grow worse, and made him toss and turn restlessly. When he finally drifted off, he dreamed of being impaled on Masamune and lifted into the air. Sephiroth’s green cat-eyes, staring up at him, with that deranged smile on his beautiful face. Black feathers fell like snow all around him.

I will never be a memory…

In the morning, Cloud went into town. Despite the reactor being shut down, Nibelheim was more lively than ever. With no Shinra, there was no one to pay mortgages to, so the residents weren’t eager to leave the homes which now belonged to them, free and clear. Then the WRO came in and added infrastructure, opened a school and clinic, and paid subsidies to local shepherds and artisans and the like, so the little town was actually prospering.

“Howdy, Mr. Strife!” the round-faced, balding man at the general goods store said cheerfully, when Cloud brought his purchases to the counter. “Been nigh on a year, since I seen ya. Stayin’ a while?”

“Little while,” Cloud answered noncommittally. “How are things, in town? Anything needs looking into, while I’m here?”

The man scratched his chin. “Nothin’ particular. Just the usual rumors, is all. Monsters in the woods. Creepy things goin’ on at the old manor. That kinda thing.”

“Let me guess. The vampire, again?”

“Nah, nah, ain’t heard nothin’ about that fella in a long time. These days, it’s a ghost.”

“Fiends, or something else?”

“Folks are sayin’ it’s the ghost of a woman, with long, white hair. Don’t do nothin’ but wander around inside the manor, wailin’ and moanin’. They say if you go over there, at night, you can hear her, but if she catches ya snoopin’ around, she sucks out your soul.”

Cloud snorted. “Sounds like the usual bullshit.”

“You ain’t kiddin’!” the man laughed. “Folks got too much time and not enough to do, these days, so they get to tellin’ tales. Y’never know what they’ll say, next. Maybe devils or goblins.”

“Well, if it keeps kids away from the manor, the ghost stories are probably for the better. It’s a dangerous place,” Cloud said, taking his full grocery bags. “I’ll be heading over there, tonight, to clear out any monsters that may have got in, over the winter. I’ll be sure to look out for the ghost.”

“Haha, you do that! Have a good one, Mr. Strife!”

Despite his reticence and flat indifference to overtures of friendship, Cloud was rather popular with Nibelheim’s current residents, because whenever he was in town, he’d deal with any local wildlife problems. Even if no one had anything pressing, he always checked Shinra Manor, since the ruins attracted a lot of monsters, and if they started establishing nests, they could pose a real threat to the townsfolk.

He spent the rest of the day chopping and stacking firewood, fishing using a thundaga materia and a net (which was technically cheating, but he was fishing for food, not sport), and scouting around for signs of dens, near the town. When the sun got low, he strapped on his sword and began the short, two-mile hike to Shinra Manor.

When he emerged from the woods, on the bumpy, neglected dirt road, it was already dark. The hulking ruin of the house loomed like the desiccated corpse of some titanic beast, off in the darkness, behind the bent and rusted iron fence. Cloud kicked the creaking gates open and strode in.

The property was overgrown with brambles and sedge grass, and ugly, grey vines, with huge thorns covered much of the half-collapsed structure. The front doors had long fallen off the hinges, so the entrance was just a yawning, black hole, like the mouth of a tomb.

Cloud faltered and clutched his chest, as he approached the house, but not for any fear of the supernatural. He’d killed too many supernatural creatures to care about even the biggest and vilest ones. Besides, he knew firsthand that the scariest thing in Shinra Manor had been a living human being, named Hojo.

It was just that the pain in the area of his heart had gotten steadily worse, on the walk here, and now it was throbbing insistently, aching so badly it was getting hard to ignore it.

What the hell could it be? He’d chopped wood and done other physical labor all day, without noticing it. Why was it getting worse, now, after a relatively light walk?

He was thinking about this, in mild annoyance, when he heard a noise inside the house. In the blink of an eye, his sword flashed out and he shifted into combat mode, all senses on alert.

As he stepped inside, the stench of dry-rot hit him in the face, like a wool blanket. He paused and surveyed the area. It was pretty dark, in here, but he had excellent night-vision, so it was more like dim twilight, to him.

The noise was coming from the upper level, somewhere. A rasping sound, like dry corn husks scraping the walls. Every once in a while, there was a burst of creepy cackling. His lip curled. He knew exactly what that was.

The main stairwell had collapsed, so he leapt lightly up to the landing on the next level, and stalked down the hall. Around the corner, the doors to all the rooms (which were miraculously intact), were closed tight. The scraping sound was coming from…pretty much all of them. How did those things manage to get into the rooms and shut the doors behind them?

“Dumbshits,” he grumbled, and kicked the first door open.

Sure enough, a bunch of floating fiends, with markings like stupid jack-o-lantern faces on their balloon-like air-sacs, were bobbing around the room cackling at each other. When the door exploded inward, they shrieked and rushed at Cloud. With a casual swing of his sword, he obliterated all of them at once.

Their dying howls riled up the ones in the other rooms. Apparently they couldn’t figure out how to get out, though, so they just rasped and thudded around, cackling like idiots. Cloud kicked the next door down and blasted those ones, too.

He repeated this process, for each room, making his way down the hall, till he reached the room with the secret passage, to the basement levels. There was no noise from this one. He tried the knob. It clicked easily, and the door swung open, with a hollow creak.

No fiends in here, but the passage to the basement was open. He’d better go down there and clear out anything else, that might be lurking. Monsters loved dark, dank places like that.

Slapping his sword back onto the magnetic holder, he hopped down the black hole, and landed on a stone floor, three full stories below.

The impact of his boots was still echoing in the stone-walled chamber, when he heard it. A low, eerie moan, that seemed to come from somewhere far off. At the same time, that pain split through his chest like a crack of thunder, making him grab his heart and gasp for breath.

The moan stretched out into a wail, rising in pitch and wavering, before it dwindled again. The sound sent chills racing up his spine. Things like ghosts and monsters held no terror for him, but this was different. He wouldn’t even call it fear. It was more like…a rush of numinous awe.

He threw a firaga burst, to light a couple of the torches on the wall, and surveyed the crypt. Vincent’s coffin was gone. The others had been tossed about and smashed to bits. Bones littered the floor.

Step by step, he descended deeper into the basement. Toward that old library. Toward that horrible place, where he was stuck with needles and probes, cut open and sewn back together, had his eyes blinded with chemicals and his lungs filled with burning mako, till his throat was too scorched and raw, to even beg for death.

His stomach churned and cold sweat was beading on his forehead, but he kept going, compelled by that ghastly moaning and the splitting pain in his chest.

He passed through the library, still scattered all over with heaps of old books, smelling heavily of their musty scent. The door was open, on the other side. The moaning had turned into a low whimpering, punctuated with choking sobs. It didn’t sound like a woman’s voice, though.

Drawing his sword again, and clenching his teeth against the agonizing ache in his heart, he stepped into the next chamber, all his hyper-tuned senses on high alert. There were collapsed pillars and scorch marks, and slashes made by huge claws in the stone walls, from their fight with Vincent, in his beast form.

Along the far wall, were several heavy, steel doors, with locking bars on the outside. The one the noise was coming from was ajar. It wasn’t the lab he’d been confined in. It was on the opposite end of the long chamber—the one with those strange vats, labeled Project-S, which Vincent had taken umbrage to them entering, back then.

Cloud pushed the door the rest of the way open and scanned the room. In the inky, underground darkness, even his night-vision was pushed to the limits, and he could only see very dimly, but it was enough to spot the source of the noise.

It was a naked, ash-white, human figure, curled up in the corner of the room, trembling and whimpering. Its pallid body seemed insubstantial, almost transparent at the edges, like it was fading out of reality. That was probably just an illusion, brought on by the heavy darkness.

He used a materia to summon a little ball of light, and as the white glow filled the room, the figure gave a hoarse cry and curled up tighter.

Cloud squinted at it. This must be the ghost, people claimed was haunting the place, but why would they say it was a woman? Its back was to him and its head was down, wrapped up protectively in its arms, but he could see that it was a man, from the broadness and muscularity of the shoulders.

“N—no, please,” the ghost stammered, in a weak half-whisper. “Please, don’t hurt me. I’ll be good. I won’t…I won’t ask about her anymore, I promise. Please.”

“Hey. What’s wrong with you?” Cloud said.

His own voice startled him, sounding solid and very loud, compared to the feeble murmurs of the ghost, which were muted and distorted, as if Cloud was hearing them through water.

“No, g—go away! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” the thing wailed, as Cloud stepped closer.

“Will you shut up and listen to me?” Cloud said, keeping the sword trained on the huddled figure.

The ghost’s piteous pleas cut off abruptly, but it kept trembling and cowering.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Cloud soothed. “Calm down, ok? What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”

Hesitantly, the figure lifted its head.

Cloud’s heart stopped.

Time seemed to stop.

Long, silver hair hung over the ghastly-white face, and cascaded to the floor, pooling around its bare feet, like water. From between the moon-colored strands, pale-blue eyes peered up at him, with slit, catlike pupils.

“Who…who are you?”

next chap

ao3

#sefikura #sephiroth x cloud #sephiroth #cloud strife #enemies to something #low drama #hurt/comfort #ff7 #final fantasy 7 #ffvii #dirge of cerberus #post dirge #canon timeline #final fantasy vii #woods #cabin #roughing it

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