#escape from albatros

[thesuperawesomeaarpong]

Sinterklaas wordt helemaal tot quasie-mortie gemaakt dit jaar 😭

[thesuperawesomeaarpong]

Sinterklaas is quasie-mortie 😭

Sinterklaasjournaal is echt nog unhingeder dan normaal dit jaar

[subtile-jagden]

Werner Voss - Part 2

When Voss returned to the front in May, the playing field was more level. Before this, German aircrafts were far superior to British and French ones. Now, the Entente had improved aircrafts, such as the SE5, which could more than compete with the German Albatros D.III and D.V. Voss shot down his first SE5 on May 7th, 1917. He continued scoring during early summer and his reputation as one of the best fighter pilots alive (bested only by Manfred von Richthofen) was established.

An interesting aspect of Voss´s personality was that he was not limited by rank. In the German army (as with most armies of the time), officers usually did not consort with the lower ranks. Voss was an officer, and one who had received the highest award possible, but he distanced himself from the circle of COs. Instead, he spent a lot of time with mechanics he had befriended and helped repair his own airplanes. His youth and middle-class upbringing most likely influenced this behavior. One of his past times was working on and riding his motorcycle.

Voss’s behavior was somewhat controversial. It is suspected that he fell foul of several higher ranked officers because he had trouble accepting the authority of those he disagreed with. He even tried to get his CO removed because he thought the man was not daring enough and unworthy to lead as venerated a unit as Jasta Boelcke. Voss was subsequently appointed Staffelführer of Jasta 5. Here again, speculations come up about Voss being purposely held back to let Richthofen be the shining star, but this should be dismissed as unfounded rumors spread by people who dislike MvR.

Though Voss was by his own admission no great leader, he did well in Jasta 5. With his colorfully painted Albatross D.III, he patrolled over the lines, raising his victory score to 30 by June.

On June 28th, 1917, Voss became Staffelführer of Jasta 29. But this only lasted five days as he was called by Manfred von Richthofen to take over Jasta 14 and then Jasta 10 of JG1, Richthofen’s famous Jagdgeschwader. Again, Voss had trouble adjusting to his commanding role. All he wanted to do was fly and fight, not do administrative work more than anything else. So, he appointed an assistant to do that for him.

During the summer of 1917, Voss continued to score victories without sustaining any injuries. By the end of August he had added eight more, bringing his total to 38.

At the end of August, Voss went on leave again. After a close call with a British pilot which he barely escaped, Voss is said to have been very stressed and nervous. After spending a few days at home in Krefeld, he visited the Fokker Flugzeugwerke in Schwerin to test-fly a new model. Upon his return, he would add ten more victories to his score before his luck finally ran out.

His demise is famous across nations. His skill and tenacity are mentioned whenever war aviation is the topic.

On September 23rd, 1917, Voss set out on a hunt for enemies by himself. Soon he shot down a bomber plane, killing the two occupants. It was to be his final victory. He returned to his airfield, greeted by his two brothers who had come to visit. They ate lunch and took a picture together, the last one of Voss alive.

At around 5 p.m. Voss took off again on his final patrol. He was with other pilots from the unit, but Voss was able to climb quicker than the rest and his comrades soon lost sight of him. Meanwhile, on the other side of the lines, the British 56 Squadron went up with the same intentions as Jasta 10. Inevitably, the parties met and engaged in the greatest air battle of WWI. It is still unclear what is truth and what is fiction of the many retellings of this fight. But one thing is clear: Werner Voss saw the enemy aircraft far outnumbering him and instead of turning around, he confronted them head-on and was able to damage every single plane before being killed. After around 10 minutes of intense fighting with at least six enemies, Voss's airplane reportedly dropped suddenly and crashed.

His death was attributed to Arthur Rhys Davis, though there is still some doubt as to who was truly responsible.

Voss’s final fight is an interesting contrast to one of Richthofen’s. MvR and several comrades encountered a lone enemy, but instead of them all attacking him, only Richthofen fought while his comrades held back and ensured no other enemy pilot approached. If only the British had acted that way in Voss’s last fight.

"I shall never forget my admiration for that German pilot, who single handed, fought seven of us for ten minutes . . . I saw him go into a fairly steep dive and so I continued to watch, and then saw the triplane hit the ground and disappear into a thousand fragments, for it seemed to me that it literally went into powder." James McCudden

"His flying was wonderful, his courage magnificent and in my opinion he is the bravest German airman whom it has been my privilege to see fight." James McCudden

"If I could only have brought him down alive..." Arthur Rhys Davis

He was buried where he crashed but subsequent fighting in the area quickly made it impossible to find his grave. He is honoured on the wall of the Soldatenfriedhof at Langemark.

RIP Werner Voss (1897 – 1917) 

Sources:

September Evening: The Life and Final Combat of the German World War One Ace Werner Voss, by Barry Diggens 2003

Unter the Guns of the German Aces, by Norman Franks and Hal Giblin 1997

My thanks to @ivy-and-edelweiss​ for proof reading and correcting my terrible grammar when neccessary! 

[unhonestlymirror]

"🇱🇹😢 Executed in Moscow by occupants in 1941

In 1898 on March 26 Antanas Gustaitis was born in the village of Obelinė, Javaravas township, Marijampolė county, Suvalkai governorate.

The entire birth of Lithuanian aviation is connected with him. Just imagine: from a student in the first batch of the Military Aviation School in 1919 to the chief of military aviation, a brigadier general and a famous aircraft designer who created 10 successful plane designs. Most of his planes were produced in series and formed the basis of the Lithuanian military aviation equipment park.

Aviation enthusiast and popularizer Antanas Gustaitis also contributed to the activities of the Lithuanian Aeroclub. He was elected as the vice-chairman of its board, handed over to the club that no longer used service planes "Albatros" and "ANBO-II" that had graduated from the Military Aviation. As a cheaper way to fly he offered the Aeroclub to take the lead in gliding. He got from the leader of gliding (at the time Germany) the first glider drawings and organized the first glider in the Military Aviation Workshop. He also sent junior aviation lieutenant Gregor Heidrikis to Germany to train as a gliding instructor, encouraged young glider constructors and sent them to study at foreign universities.

The fate of this bright personality is tragic. In 1940 the Soviet occupiers forced him to sign the liquidation documents of the beloved military aviation he had created and nurtured. After refusing to serve the occupier's army in 1941, he was arrested on October 16. and shot in Moscow. He was trying to escape knowing his fate with all his plane drawings but was caught by russians near Lithuanian border.

Aviation enthusiasts have not forgotten his work. While mentioning of him during the censorship of the Soviet occupation, was not allowed. Aviators could speak openly about him after the restoration of Lithuania's Independence. Several books have been published, a documentary film and several television shows have been produced, the VGTU Aviation Institute is named after Antanas Gustaitis, and enthusiasts are trying to restore his previously created structures. The Lithuanian Aviation Museum also preserves and nurtures exhibits related to the life and activities of Antanas Gustaitis - from photos, pilot's gloves, to ANBO drawings of airplanes included in UNESCO's Lithuanian National Register "Memory of the World".

Lithuania was the only one among the small European states that produced combat planes at that time.

Antanas Gustaitis planes ANBO means "Antanas Nori Būti Ore" ( Antanas wants to be in the air ).

In the first photo: Antanas Gustaitis in the cockpit of the ANBO plane near his parents' farmhouse. ~1926

Second and third Antanas with his planes

Credit to Lithuania's Aviation Museum."

[squadron-goals]

Back to the unit

10 August 1916

I was supposed to return to Germany with the wounded transport to make room in the field hospital. My plaster cast was removed in mid-July. I'll never leave the front! I make a bold plan with my comrades. The unit provides me with a car and one morning I simply disappear from the hospital! I landed happily back at my old field aviation department on August 2nd. A lot has changed since I disappeared into obscurity. Unfortunately, the old aces had slowly increased their kill numbers, new ones had sprung up like mushrooms in the few weeks and taken the lead. Immelmann fell, our other losses in aviation are shockingly high. The pitiful weakness that is spreading at home! It's already starting the terrible digging work out here. With the new replacement and with the vacationers, this ugly worm has crept to our front. Our replacement officers aren't much use either. Some of the good old active ones are already underground, have remained on the battlefields or have been shot to cripples. What is coming now is immature, but unfortunately also very presumptuous because it has not yet been educated. My unit has remained clean thanks to the intervention of my leader, Palmer. He was just as brilliant an officer as my old chief captain Seeberg, only more energetic, which was very appropriate. He cleaned up the losers, thoroughly. The department is a collection of single-seater and reconnaissance aces, as the outstanding pilots are called. There is no real recovery time anymore. The drain of pilots is enormous. For long, long weeks the opponent undisputedly dominated the air. We didn't have enough capable monoplanes. Above all, we were missing an aircraft that could be easily maneuvered in the air in combat. We had fallen asleep on the laurels that the single-seaters had won in the hands of some excellent pilots. It wasn't the monoplane itself, it was the crew that was the reason for its success! How many Fokkers were at the front and how small were the number of those who shot down? As early as January 1916 I demanded a new type: a small biplane. They laughed! Meanwhile, the Frenchman is making use of our experience: quietly building small biplanes and throwing hundreds of them to the front in one fell swoop. He thus controls the air and we have to watch, gritting our teeth, as our monoplanes are shot down in front of our eyes without us being able to help! In May I wanted to take the so-called Albatros biplane with me to the front. We would have had a larger number of such superior biplanes at the start of the Battle of the Somme. A Mr. von Thüna, responsible for single-seaters at home, rejects the bird with the words: "I decide the aircraft that go to the front, not Oberleutnant Berthold!" He has been in Germany for a long time, not at the front, and has never flown a single seater, let alone fought in the air!

25 August 1916

It's now been over 10 days since I "escaped" the hospital. I can't walk alone yet; Even if the left leg is shorter, weak and stiff, it has to work, the will can do it! The stiffness in the knee joint soon disappeared. My orderly had to lie down on his lower leg while I bent my leg over the bed post and pressed my thigh down. A bruise in the knee joint was the first success, but the leg could be moved again. My eyes are still giving me trouble, but they will get better with time... Now I'm back in the plane. Yesterday my 6th opponent was down burning. The old strength, the old will was bound for a short time, but not broken!

[anachronistic-cat]

So you know how a necklace with a feather from an avian hybrid is often, in worldbuilding, like a sign of affection or something. What if no. What if Jimmy's feathers haunt the one who kills him "instead of the cross, the albatros, about my neck was hung"

And his killer not necessarily winning doesn't not fit? DEATH and LIFE-IN-DEATH play dice for the mariner and his crew, maybe she wins a different person this time.

Albatross!jimmy would also imply that the way out is not through further violence, but to find the beauty in the world, and make peace with the spirits angered. It implies that the winner is not necessarily free yet, because they haven't learnt their lesson yet.

It also kinda fits in a meta way? The mariner is cursed to, every so often, tell his tale to a passerby. The life series is quite literally every so often the participants telling us their tales, leaving us forever changed.

It's also interesting, if we're looking at rime, to think about how the other lifers, specifically those who who have teamed one-on-one with jimmy (Scott, Tango, now Martyn) fit into this.

[putting the rest under a read more because i freaking love lifesmp, and I'm chronically obsessed with The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, so this got LONG, but tl;dr is that if Jimmy is the albatross, then Scott is not the Mariner, but is taking the mariner's punishment, & is most likely to escape the Life Series if it follows Rime of the Ancient Mariner rules, Tango is a crewmate because the albatross dying causes his death, but could possibly escape, and Martyn, fits really well as the Mariner so far, but will never actually be free. However, due to the inevitability of death in Life Series and Jimmy being more important before & as he dies than he is after, i'm more convinced that he's a canary than an albatross (except in the past tense).]

Scott, who saw the albatross he loved killed in one season (3L), and refused the boogeyman and won in the next (LL), doesn't so much fit as the mariner, but could be looked at as either a crewmate that didn't really need the lesson, but is now forced to follow through it in a version where DEATH won the mariner and LIFE-IN-DEATH won a random other crewmate, or as "The spirit who bideth by himself/In the land of mist and snow,/He loved the bird that loved the man/Who shot him with his bow."

DL!Tango fits a bit less, although you could argue he's a crewmate, not the mariner, as he dies with the albatross, we do see the ranchers consistently find happiness in hardship, which kinda reflects the mariner's realization about loving all the slimy things.

But most interesting to me, and who I think fits best, is Martyn. In 3L, although not the one to kill Jimmy directly, he was part of the crew that did so. In LL jimmy was part of his group before they sent him to exile, which while not a death, is a removal of the albatross, and Martyn was present at Jimmy's final death in LL. DL is the only series so far in which Martyn is not in some way involved with Jimmy's final death, and therefore doesn't have much for Mariner!Martyn, save for how much he suffers with cleo, but 24L is where it really gets interesting.

In 24L Martyn has an explicit oceanic/mariner theme already, and Jim permadies by falling from the sky after the bad boys bomb Martyn. Martyn would go on to win 24L, desperate, betraying everyone, and going mad. He goes against the established order by attacking early instead of the agreed upon "fair fight". One theory for why the mariner shoots the albatross, is that he felt it was a distraction, or a waste of rations. If we take this interpretation, the pragmatism Martyn shows at the end of 24L really seems to fit, eh?

And then we get to the current season, SL. Martyn, as we all know, starts out the season Going Through It™. Taking damage left right and centre, the first yellow name, etc.

There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye... ...Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony.... ...a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I.

and then he teams with Jimmy, which we can parallel with the mariner learning to love and appreciate the living things of earth,

O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware.

and beginning to be freed from his punishment:

The self-same moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea. [+ like. ALL of part V]

now, we're still in the early days of SL, so for the rime to hold here's what'll have to happen: after joining jimmy/learning to love all creatures, things will get easier for Martyn, but remain somewhat difficult, before he is released from his torment altogether. considering, however, how much CC!Martyn enjoys the Life Series, I sincerely doubt we will see C!Martyn released from his torment.

("The man hath penance done,/ And penance more will do.")

now, we're still in the early days of SL, so for the rime to hold here's what'll have to happen: after joining jimmy/learning to love all creatures, things will get easier for Martyn, but remain somewhat difficult, before he is released from his torment altogether. considering, however, how much CC!Martyn enjoys the Life Series, I sincerely doubt we will see C!Martyn released from his torment. anyway. Martyn fits particularly well as the mariner, at least for now.

But here's the thing: i don't know that Jimmy actually fits as the albatross. its an interesting metaphor, and there's so much to play with, don't get me wrong, (like i said, i freaking LOVE Rime), but the trouble is that Jimmy is an active participant in events in his own right. the albatross... isn't that. it is there, and it is killed for seemingly no reason, and it haunts the narrative, yes, but it is not involved in events. the canary, in the metaphor, is active, it sings, it cheers up and bonds with the miners, eventually it stops singing, and warns them by doing so, but up until then it is present, the miners care about it.

the canary is present while alive, and is conspicuous in its absence once dead. the albatross is only significant in its death, and influences more when it is dead than it did while alive. Jimmy, i would say, is more of a force in the world while he's alive than when he's dead, and his absence rather than continued presence is what's significant about him when he's dead.

and then there's the inevitability: the life series carries with it a sense of inevitability, much like the dangerous work of the coal miner, it's not a matter of if you'll die, but when, and the canary serves as a warning sign that that when is fast approaching. Part of the tragedy of Rime is that it, technically, was avoidable (there's a whole branch on analysis that takes the poem to be about how you can't actually know the outcome of your actions in advance, and how seemingly innocuous things can have inordinate consequences, but we don't need to get into that here); if he had not shot the albatross, things would have been fine. whether or not jimmy dies first, everyone in the life series is doomed.

HOWEVER! there is a way for jimmy to fit as the albatross, and I think its got even more interesting potential: in both Scott and Martyn's cases, we see that they primarily go on to fill the Mariner role in the season after they're associated with Jimmy's death. Scott won the season after he teamed with Jimmy, Martyn is punished and beginning to make amends this (SL) season after three seasons of involvement with Jimmy's death, and directly after a season that ended in his doing Random Acts Of Violence.

So I propose that Jimmy is the Canary, but when he dies in each season he becomes the next season's albatross. so during 3L, 3L!jimmy is a canary, but during LL, 3L!jimmy was an albatross.

ho boy. so i'm having more timmy thoughts and you guys have to deal with them. kind of long, rambling post ahead, but bare with me. (i don't know how to include a cut on mobile so sorry)

a couple nights ago i was rambling to my poor family about the traffic smps bc hyperfixation, and i mentioned jimmy always dying first and how he's the canary. my sister, who is not into traffic but is into hermitcraft and sees a lot of traffic stuff, said that the metaphor doesn't work and he would fit better as an albatross.

i argued with her, and while i do still love canary jimmy and think the metaphor fits, i've fallen completely in love with albatross jimmy. yes, i know, another jimmy hybrid i'm going to be pushing on you, but cmon. think about it.

jimmy is not the cursed one, everyone else is. he was killed, now everyone else has to deal with the consequences. he isn't cursed to die first, people are just more likely to die after he's gone.

whoever kills him has horrible nightmares. storms and shipwrecks. dead bodies and slimy, oozing things. they wake up each morning feeling like they're being strangled. they swear they can hear albatrosses flying above them, but when they look there's nothing there.

his teammates, while he's alive, benefit. albatrosses are symbols of good luck, after all. small things, like perfectly cooked food and restful sleep. and it was one of his allies that won third life, wasn't it? and his husband won last life, even if they weren't together. (i haven't watched dl yet, but it was pearl who helped with the horns, right?)

it would have been fitting if the one who killed him in each game ended up winning, but alas, this series is unscripted and therefore (most) narrative parallels and metaphors are coincidental. perhaps an au where whoever kills the albatross is cursed to be the only one who remembers? still thinking on it.

i'm just obsessed with the idea that jimmy's deaths are not warnings of the chaos to come, but the cause of it. that maybe things wouldn't be so bad if they just didn't kill him. they shot the albatross, now they have to deal with the aftermath.

[secretwhumplair]

Tern

2,105 words | Original work

Prompt | Cry into chest - @badthingshappenbingo​​

Content | Slavery, fear, conditioning, comfort but with lots of implied past torture

Notes | Tern getting his name. And generally out of his situation. Rejoice. This got long again oTL

Since Tern’s (and Gosling’s) view is a little skewed, I feel somewhat compelled to point out that yes slavery is wrong no matter how the slaves are treated. Seems obvious but I hear you never know on this site.

“Do you have a favourite bird?”

The slave stared down on his trembling hands, desperately trying to make sense of what his new master had said. He couldn’t, and he could feel the fear knotting in his throat. With his old master, at least he had known what was coming at him.

His brain still didn’t seem to function properly, the water his new master had passed him as soon as he owned him only slowly soaking into him after being left thirsty in the sun for so long.

He was so grateful for it. He wanted to do right, he wanted to do what the Master wanted, but he couldn’t figure it out-

“It’s that we call all our slaves by bird names,” the Master explained gently. “What should we call you?”

The slave’s breath caught in his throat. How could the Master ask that? How could he be asked that? Did this mean he no longer would be called an insult-

“I like terns,” he whispered. He had always liked to watch the deft little birds dance on the breeze when he was left on the coast while his old master was fishing. He sometimes wished he was one of them.

He didn’t dare look up, his hands still trembling, hoping, irrationally, that had been the right answer, or at least a right answer.

“Tern! That’ll work. Come on then, Tern. Let’s get you home. Can you walk? It’s just down the road.”

The slave - Tern, almost a real name, he wanted to cry - nodded eagerly. Every inch of his body was hurting -

“Do you think they can win you off of me? Do you think they can beat me?”

“No, Master.” He really didn’t. He couldn’t imagine ever escaping the Master anymore. His heart only ached for the slave they’d bet against him, clearly confident he would be safe.

The Master grinned. “Me neither. But still, it might be our last night together, we can’t let that go to waste, now can we?”

- but he could walk, he could do anything if it meant the Master would continue treating him like this, he would do anything at all.

The Master led him down the road. Tern kept his eyes cast to the dusty ground. He didn’t want to seem disrespectful, or ungrateful, or any horrid thing he didn’t even feel. The trembling had grown fainter, and heavy exhaustion crept up to him. He hadn’t slept, and it had been a long day full of fear. He was still scared.

The new master seemed kind, but he didn’t know what he expected from him, what he should do for him; he only hoped he could be useful, but didn’t really believe it. He had tried so hard all his life. It had never been good enough.

The home the Master led him to was a large building, but not standing alone like Northridge Castle; it was wedged between the other buildings on the street. He only ventured a few tentative glances as he was led down a hall and into what appeared to be a simple dining room.

Another slave, a woman getting on in years, stood in the door on the opposite side, which apparently led to the kitchen. Her hair was long, tied up in a neat bun, and her clothes were neat and tidy as well, much more than Tern’s. Only the mark on her neck betrayed her status.

Tern lowered his eyes, again, a stranger weight added to the fear in his heart. How would he possibly fit in here?

“Master? What about the young Mistress?”

“She won, but... she got injured.” The Master’s voice was strained, and if Tern could have shrunk further, he would. This was his fault. The young Mistress had fought to win him. The other slave gasped at the news. “And Shadow, too. But they’ll probably be fine... there’s nothing we can do right now, they’re being seen by the healers.” A small pause, then, “Anyway... this is Tern. Tern, this is Gale.”

Tern barely had time to look up before Gale had rushed to his side. “Oh, you poor thing! Come, come, sit.”

A sudden rush of panic ran through him, and he threw a desperate glance at the Master. There was a small, sad smile on his lips.

“It’s alright, go on. Gale will take care of you.”

Still hesitant, Tern moved over to the chair Gale had pulled out for him. Gale herself had rushed off and came back before long with a jug of water, a cup, some rags, and a small box. She set everything down on the table before him, and first poured a cup. “Here, drink, you don’t look like you’ve drunk enough.”

Tern stole another glance at the Master. He moved over to the table, sitting a few places away from Tern. His face was serious now. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”

Tern cowered down a little more, ignoring his aching back, and took what he planned to be a polite sip, but ended up half-emptying the cup. Gale was right, he was still thirsty.

He felt a hand at his shoulder, and instinctively flinched away.

“Shh, it’s alright, dear,” Gale said softly. “I’ll take off your shirt and see to your injuries, yes?”

It took a moment for Tern to realize she actually was waiting for his response. What was she asking him for, wasn’t that for the Master to decide?

Apparently not. He managed a tiny nod. He hoped he was doing right. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, or greedy.

Gently, Gale lifted his shirt over his head. It still hurt - everything hurt - but it was very obvious that she was trying not to hurt him, and that was almost more than he could handle.

She gasped, again, when she saw his back. “Oh, you poor dear. You poor, poor thing.”

Tern could picture the lacerations and welts she was seeing, and suddenly felt ashamed for an unnamable reason. What was she thinking?

“I’ll clean those, yes? and put some salve on. It’ll probably hurt a little.”

He wasn’t sure whether he was expected to reply. He wasn’t sure of anything.

Gentle hands started brushing wet rags around his wounds, then dab on healing salve. He barely would have recognized the feeling sparking through the soft, soothing cool as pain, so careful was Gale’s touch. He had never been treated like this. He was having healing salve applied, like a real person.

He was fighting back tears, he didn’t want to look ungrateful, but it was a losing battle, and eventually he cried quietly, and it was all he could do to keep his chest steady against the silent sobs.

“Shh, it’s okay. Do you need a break?” Gale’s hand rested briefly on an uninjured spot near his shoulder.

He shook his head, ashamed to have worried her. She worried about him, and he only worried her more. “I’m fine,” he whispered, then held his breath and looked up at the Master. He shouldn’t have spoken without permission.

The Master’s eyes were on him, but he didn’t look angry. His face was still serious, but when Tern looked at him, he forced a small smile on his lips.

Tern didn’t know what to make of it. It wasn’t like the smirks of his old master, that much he could see. He stared down at the table again, hoping he wasn’t expected to react in some way, because he didn’t know how.

He was so tired.

The evening went on while Gale was busy with his back, and more slaves trickled in, apparently done with the day’s work. All of them expressed their shock and compassion at the state Tern was in, and Tern almost cried again. A pair introduced as Wren and Albatros (”Another seabird!” she smiled when Gale told her Tern’s new name) disappeared into the kitchen to “take care of dinner.”

Tern itched to help. There was work to do, and he needed, he wanted to make himself useful, he couldn’t just sit here and be spoiled like this. But at the same time, he didn’t dare move from the spot. His tears had dried, but he was not at ease, not by far.

The last of the new arrivals sat next to him quietly, not touching or speaking to him, just a calm presence.

Eventually, Gale finished treating his wounds, and poured the remaining water into the long emptied cup. “Drink,” she said with a soft smile. “I’ll fetch you a new shirt, this is-” She didn’t end the sentence, but much to Tern’s relief, she looked at the Master for confirmation, a quick nod, before she went off.

There was noise at the door, and when Gale returned, she was following the rest of the family - the Mistress, and her daughter, and the young slave they had bet against Tern.

Everyone cheered, and the Master jumped to his feet, quickly going to meet his wife and daughter. The young Mistress was moving stiffly, but quickly confirmed she was going to be alright as per the healer’s predictions, and Tern felt a surge of relief that brought him to the verge of tears again.

“I won’t be able to ride for a few weeks,” she added, frowning, and his relief dissolved into fear and guilt again.

He didn’t have much time to think about it, because the slave whose life had been bet against his rushed over to him, and sat down next to him, grinning. “Hey, I’m Gosling! I’m so glad you’re here.”

Tern could only stare at him, helplessly. So was he. And he was also glad the other was still here, instead of both of them suffering for his old master’s entertainment. But he couldn’t find it in himself to be cheerful. He wasn’t sure he even knew how. So much had happened, and was still happening, and it was so frightening.

They had dinner at the same table as the Masters. Tern could hardly believe it. He also couldn’t believe the plate full of food before him, the only restriction Gale’s gently noting, “Eat slowly, or you’ll be sick. You look starved.”

He ate slowly. He didn’t dare eat much, but it was still a better meal than he had had in years, maybe ever.

Probably ever.

After dinner, Gosling spoke up fearlessly. “Mistress? I’m tired, can I go to bed? I... haven’t slept much.”

“And whose fault is that?” the Mistress replied grumpily, and Tern felt a sting of fear for the younger man. But then her expression softened. “Alright, alright. Take Tern with you. I bet you haven’t slept much, either.”

“Thank you, Mistress. Come on, Tern.”

Tern managed a whispered “Thank you” before he followed Gosling out of the dining room, and up a flight of stairs.

“Are you okay?” Gosling asked quietly as he led him through a door. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine here. The Masters are good people.”

Tern couldn’t answer; he only managed a small nod.

They crossed some sort of antechamber, and went through another door into a room filled with several bunk beds and two large wardrobes.

“Ta-dah! Our bedroom.” Gosling pointed at one of the bunks. “The one under mine is free, if you’d like?”

Tern just stared at the bed, then back at Gosling, trying to process what he was being told.

He would be sleeping in a bed.

A real bed.

He didn’t feel himself falling to his knees, he only knew he was down on them and finally crying freely, tears streaming down his face, his entire body shaken by sobs. He tried to keep quiet, pressing his hands to his mouth, but he couldn’t stop any more than he could stop breathing.

“Hey. Hey. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re safe now.” There was a note of alarm in Gosling’s concerned voice. He kneeled down before him, and very carefully put his arms around him.

Tern flinched at the touch, at first, and Gosling paused, clearly indecisive. But Tern didn’t want him to stop, not really, and without thinking he leaned into the touch, and suddenly Gosling was holding him, his face buried in the young man’s chest. He was still crying. He wanted to stop, he didn’t want to be a bother, but he didn’t feel he could, not now, maybe not ever.

Gosling’s arms around him were warm and gentle and he had never been held like this for as long as he could remember, and he cried while Gosling whispered to him, “It’s okay,” and “Shh, that’s alright,” and “You’re safe.”

[lacquerware]

Sekiro has one big similarity to Bionic Commando, and it's not what you think

Spoiler Warning: Sekiro, Bionic Commando (NES)

Progress in Sekiro is meted out through challenging boss fights and punctuated with scenic, relatively safe traversal sequences that enhance the sense that you’re on a textured journey that’s headed somewhere. Fairly early in the game, after you’ve found your initial footing and conquered a few lifebars bearing fancy names, the game pulls a fast one on you: As you’re scaling some cliffs to get to the next part of the game, a snake roughly the size of Godzilla glides into view—filling your view—and looks at you like you’re the last donut hole in Boston. What was supposed to be a rejuvenating slice of downtime is suddenly the most stressful situation Sekiro has placed you in so far. A harrowing stealth sequence ensues, where you must divide your time between hiding and madly dashing for the next hiding spot.

Eventually you escape into a cave and get on with your life without confronting the beast, but a new seed of anxiety has started to sprout; eventually you’ll have to confront this thing. It’s Sekiro’s way of shaking the confidence you’ve spent the first chunk of the game building. “You think you’re all that because you beat an eight-foot ogre who started the fight in shackles? Sit back down, insect.”

From then on, the Great Serpent becomes a sort of sinister mile marker, dividing your journey broadly into acts with recurring reminders that your successes don’t mean you’re not still a tiny worm on a giant fucking cosmic hook. At one point it ambushes you on a rope bridge, leaving you floating helplessly in the water below. Another time, you find its shed skin adorning the scenery.  

In my many hours and playthroughs with Sekiro, I’ve come to learn that there is some variation to the order in which the game’s key events may unfold, but on my first playthrough, I’d done just about everything possible before finally emerging from that Sunken Valley cavern to find the Great Serpent nestled asleep on a cliffside a few hundred feet below. I’d acquired the Mortal Blade as well as all the ingredients for the Fountainhead Incense. The dreaded Guardian Ape was dead, then undead, then dead-dead. It was clear I was about to enter a new, late phase of the game, but then there she was, once again laying watch over my only path forward.

I edged forward on the overlooking wooden beam, scanning for grapple points or other escape options. There were none, but I was startled to find I could lock onto the slumbering Serpent’s head. Ah, I thought. This is the fight I’ve been dreading all along. Nothing left but to walk the plank and wake the dragon. I gulped, wiped the sweat off my palms, and dove . . . .

As I plunged, I was again startled to see the familiar red smudge of a Deathblow opportunity appear on the Serpent’s head. I spewed some fragments of syllables as my finger scrambled for the R1 button. It registered and Sekiro readied his sword in midair. Unexpected as this was, it occurred to me that many boss fights had begun this way, with a Deathblow opportunity that knocked off one of the boss’s multiple life bars. There was no special reason to think this would preclude a grueling fight, until, that is, Sekiro tore his sword through the Serpent’s uncaring reptile brain, drenching the entire landscape in a downpour of strawberry rhubarb jam and leaving the Serpent a dangling dead decoration. The fight was over before it had begun.

I’ve already commended Sekiro for being FromSoft’s first game in the “Souls” template not to be centered around discouragement, but this dramatic display of leniency was downright motivational. It was like your drill sergeant surprising you with a pizza party instead of the expected twenty-mile march.

“It’s fucking dead?!” I said out loud to my wife in the other room.

“What’s dead?”

“A snake in a video game.”

“Oh.”

But to me it was astounding. This colossal demon, whose prime function up to now had been to keep my confidence in check, had now fallen to my little blade in one of the most spectacular shows of player triumph I’d seen in my more than thirty years of gaming. What I’d thought was the game’s way of saying “You’ve haven’t accomplished as much as you think you have” was ultimately the game’s way of saying I’d accomplished more. Even this impossibly large beast, this divine manifestation of terror itself, which had made every other adversary look puny and insignificant, was now dead. What a shot in the arm! There was no stopping me now.

After finishing Sekiro, I realized this moment had been instrumental in creating the lasting impression that, unlike Dark Souls and Bloodborne, Sekiro never seeks to discourage or punish. It also contributed heavily to the dynamic contour of the whole experience, which is a major thing I think Sekiro has over my beloved Nioh. It aspires and succeeds at being more than a game with a predictable loop—it’s an odyssey of diverse sights and experiences, and the Great Serpent kill feels like the centerpiece. My favorite moment of Sekiro.

Some time later, I had a shower thought: Bionic Commando on the NES, one of my all-time favorite games, had done something very similar more than thirty years prior. The Japanese version of the game includes Hitler’s Resurrection (ヒットラーの復活) right in the title, but in America it’s not until the climactic showdown that you even know it’s a game about defeating Hitler. Until then, your ostensible adversary is Generalissimo Killt, an imposing, sneering, decorated man with all the trimmings of a fictional fascist. He taunts you face-to-face early on in one of the game’s RPG town-esque neutral zones, where you have no recourse even though your bionic arm could surely crush his skull like a grape in a condor beak.

When you finally meet again, Killt stands regal before a towering stasis chamber with a human figure floating within. He says something menacing about “Master-D” and a “revival device,” makes a threat on your life, and then the encounter is cut short by an apparent electrical malfunction. With a powerful jolt, the device unceremoniously kills Killt before he can even try to make good on his threat. 

The floating figure within the chamber slowly emerges and speaks. Despite his censored name, the pixelated portrait that accompanies his dialogue box is unmistakable—an eerily lifelike rendering of Adolph Hitler. I was six or seven when I first witnessed this moment, but thanks to Mom’s yearly Yom Kippur tradition of breaking out the Holocaust picture book, Hitler’s stony visage was already imprinted upon my brain. He was my boogeyman, the subject of recurring nightmares, and now somehow he’d invaded my video game. This real-life association made him formidable in a way no other video game villain could touch (no, not even Mike Tyson). It was personal and terrifying in a way no game had been. In an instant, the stakes of this adventure soared sky-high. Hitler was the Great Serpent, a terrible titan sent to ambush your confidence.

After his grand entrance, Hitler unleashes upon you the “Albatros” [sic], a hulking, amorphous war machine outftitted with rhythmically spewing flame vents and a pulsating organ. A tense fight ensues, putting your swinging and shooting skills to the ultimate test. Finally, the Albatross explodes in a screen-filling spectacle of pyrotechnics, and you emerge on an elevated precipice just in time to hear the dying words of a wounded comrade, Hal: Hitler is getting away in a chopper, and it’s up to you to stop him. Even the ultimate test had fallen far short of stopping this monolithic evil.

Hal hands over a bazooka and instructs you to aim for the chopper’s cockpit as you leap from the precipice. You edge forward, scanning for grapple points. You gulp, wipe the sweat off your palms, and swing . . . .

As you plunge, you fire off a single shot. It strikes the glass. You land.

“Your number’s up! Monster!”

Now bear in mind that up to this point, only the weakest enemies in the game had died in one hit. And this wasn’t just any adversary; this was the biggest possible bad. As with the Great Serpent, there was no special reason to think this one shot would preclude a grueling fight, until, that is, Hitler’s cranium exploded in a starburst of strawberry rhubarb jam, the gory detail intricately rendered in four disgusting frames of diverging skin, teeth, and eyeballs. 

The fight was over before it had begun. What appeared at first to be a demoralizing escalation of the game’s peak, was in fact a spectacular way to pat you on the back for making it this far. It's like they shoehorned Hitler into the game at the last minute just to let you blow his head up. For a little Jewish kid, that was just about the tastiest proposition a video game could offer. 

The more I ponder these two moments, the more they feel like twins. The dissonance of the antagonists’ grandeur with the world they inhabit. The ease with which you reveal both to be false gods. The extreme use of gore to convey the weight of your achievement. They even both hinge on a do-or-die attack performed in free fall. Considering Sekiro also stars a grunt with a bionic arm, I have to wonder if there weren’t some Bionic Commando fans involved in its conception.

[retvenkos]

edges // imtura tal kaelen

Choices: Blades of Light and Shadow - An Imtura Tal Kaelen Story

those edges are sharp as they move to cut deep blood on your hands, body in a heap.

my mother on a throne, her words like tiny knives, my father on the sea - his life lost in archives.

i bleed to death on edges, i forge myself anew, i sail beyond what’s past me, i work and i make do,

--

Flotilla was small, when compared to the rest of the world. She knew it from a young age.

There were land masses that connected entirely different worlds, one language blending into the next, one group of people coexisting with another. The edges were blurred, on land. Kingdoms were fleeting. Everything was larger on land.

There were land masses, and then there were islands.

She lived on an island.

Things were smaller in her world, more black and white. There were sharp contrasts and jagged ends where power was long lasting, existing under the guise of being eternal. (“Very little is truly eternal, Immy.” “Are we?”)

There was very little comfort in her claustrophobic home. Her mother would smother with her love and she imposed her virtues like a slow tightening noose; if you stayed too long, it would be the last place you stayed.

Imtura dreamed of the sea. The freedom of being able to go where you please, the vastly different lands you could visit and even call home, the big expanse of water, as far as you could see, all yours for the taking. Her father was there, on the open sea. That’s where her mother had left him, and that’s where he dared to stay.

She dreamed of the sea, and perhaps of the family she could find, there.

--

Her mother was as strong as she was resolute. Her eyes were hard because they had to be, years of fighting against other clans, working to unify them all under one crown. She wore that crown, now, behind her horns, the turquoise and jade set behind gold and tusk. It caught light from the fire and gleamed with a powerful intensity. It was meant to signify the power behind her fine dresses and thick furs, a crown that detailed adventures she had never seen and places she had never experienced.

“This crown will never be yours, Immy. Not the way you’re going.” Her voice was venom - hitting the bloodstream and coursing through the body fast enough to paralyze. “I can see your future.” Her eyes narrowed, then (In disgust. In loathing.), her head held high.

It was in the early days that the seeds of discontent were sewn. On the edges of a precipice with a steep fall. On the border of what had happened, and what was still to come.

What could her mother see? The sun on her back? Her red hair thick with ocean spray? Her father, on the sea, free from the strict rules of the crown, far from the island and her mother? Was she beside him, in this supposed future? Was it them, father and daughter, at the end of the world that scared the great Ventra Tal Kaelen?

Or was it something else, something more potent? (Death, dishonor, destruction.)

She had felt them all, on this island, in this home.

Which had the strength to consume her?

She left her mother to crowns, dresses, and furs. She abandoned her mother to rules, power, and obligation. She left her mother behind closed doors, waiting for the wood to rot, splinter, and fall.

--

Day after day. Land after land. Sea after sea. Wave after wave. Star after star.

She charted the seas with the aid of the sky one, twice, three times over; searching… always searching. He had said he would be on the sea. That’s the only memory she had of him; red hair, deep eyes, and talk of his mistress - the sea. Her mother had avoided the water her whole life because of him. She bound the Clans together with the strength of a thousand orcs to discard the ocean’s necessity. She said her one failure was Imtura’s love for the water and it’s detrimental temptations.

How else did she fail you, Mighty Queen? How else did she disappoint you, Mother of a Pirate?

Imtura found refuge in her drink and fulfilment in her treasures. Turquoise stones, jade rings, golden gauntlet, necklaces of tusk, shirts of fine silk, and vests of fur. They filled her quarters to the point of claustrophobia, they hung around her neck like a slow tightening noose.

But the drinks slipped it loose, the laughter lightened the load.

“We pirates all lose something.” Her first mate was philosophical after a night of cards and rum. His head lolled forward and for a moment his words were a prayer. Spirits dipped below the strings of music and there were hums of agreement. “There’s always a price for finding treasure.”

What had she sacrificed from her early days to now? How much of that still plagued her now, turning a medallion around her neck to an albatros, ready to drag you beneath the waves.

It was a watery grave for those who sailed the seas.

It was a tumultuous life for those who searched for men who traversed on the edge of the world.

--

Whispers came on the wind, salty sweet and cold as ice.

Shivers ran through her like a ghost walking through you; all at once and suddenly over, leaving an unsteady feeling in the pit of your stomach. The words wrapped around her like snakes going up her arms and around her legs, leaving a trail that made her stand on edge.

Imtura turned, and it seemed to be around her entire crew. (They all had demons… it’s why they were here. To run, perhaps hide. But the whispers, the long shadows, there was no escaping them. Not here, on the sea.)

She turned her gaze to stone and knotted the rope in her hand tighter, the movement jerking the shadowy tendrils away, off of the host they intended to corrupt. She yelled to her crew, giving them jobs, pulling them out of their stupor.

Whispers can’t corrupt you if they don’t have the time or strength.

They had to get off the sea. It was the only way.

“You can’t escape… I can see your future…” They took on the words of her mother, for a moment. But it was too smooth, too languorous to be her mother. Ventra had sharp edges, so did her daughter.

It wasn’t her mother. (Not this time.)

--

Fate came to her at the end of the sharp tip of her axe, their argument compelling, stronger than she could ever know. (The implications of what was to come put her on edge, familiar in its bite.)

Looking into the eyes of a new life, she followed.

[akirashinigami-fr]

   Heth had never understood the pull of “charges” in guardian society. Perhaps largely because- for a long majority of her life- she’d never felt that pull. The need to find a being to dedicate her life to. When she found Albatros, he was more a happy accident. She loved him, her darling mate, but he wasn’t a charge by any stretch of the imagination.

   No... It wasn’t until she found a young gaoler did her Charge click into place. Staring at a face who mimicked her own, Plague eyes that just...spoke to her. Heth adopted that child as her own, named her Hath (similar, yet not), and they became family.

   So when Hath disappeared one day after feeling a pull somewhere out in the Ice flight, Heth didn’t think another minute of it. They were both servants of The End- when a dragon must pass on or has escaped The End, then it is up to Heth or Hath to bring them there- so the fact that The End might’ve called Hath somewhere was of no concern to her.

   ...However, the days dragged on. A week passed. Then a little more. Heth was becoming impatient, pacing around the floor of her den, looking for the bundle of fur that was Hath. Her family... Where? Where??

   “Your pacing again,” Albatros pointed out, head tilting. “She’ll come home when she can. You know this.”

   “Maybe,” Heth grumbled, tail flicking. “But maybe I should’ve gone with her. She’s never left the clan before. Who knows if she’s gotten lost. Or if dragons have attacked her... You know how Clan Frost has been about her!! Those rebels, agh...” Her tail thumped against the floor in agitation, Albatros raising a brow calmly as he looked to it, then up at her.

   “And you didn’t. That’s all there is to it, my dear. You know as well as I we can’t change the past-” She shot him a glare and he sighed, dropping his head slightly. “I know. You’re still worried. But I really think you should-” His words died in his throat as a darkness filled up the den, blinking up as he stared up at Heth’s “little” family...

   Hath’s coat was wet, eyes looking exhausted and dead... As if the life had been thieved from her. He could only stare, mouth slightly opened as Heth hurriedly approached, worried.

   “What happened to you?! We- I’ve been worried sick, Hath! To do your job is one thing, but this-”

   “...They’re gone.”    “Huh?” Heth froze, looking up at her charge. Hath wouldn’t return the gaze, eyes shining with unshed tears.

   “...I don’t know what the call was for. But I found another gaoler, like me... I didn’t, I don’t...” Hath sighed, easily shoving aside the other to step over to her bed, curling into it and hiding her face into her long, furry tail, ignoring the cold water that slapped onto her face. “...He was so sweet, I just... I wanted.... The eggs- my children- they couldn’t... I don’t understand.”

   “...You had eggs with this...gaoler?” Heth asked, cautiously. She stepped over, watching her charge’s despair, feeling it in her own heart. Albatros lowered his head, the realization dawning over him in the silence. In the shaking of that large, furry body just across the way. “...Hath. The children. What happened?”

   “They’re...with the Icewarden now, I’d imagine.... May he protect their souls....” A chill entered the hearts of the three dragons in the room, standing their in the silence. Heth...almost couldn’t process it, but the softest sob from Hath made it all sink in.

   Gone. Something about them...unable to survive. Of the two of them, Hath had children first, and couldn’t even celebrate the fact. Couldn’t keep her happiness...

   Heth shot a look to Albatros, tired and weary. He knew the look, standing up to move to the other side of Hath, both of them resting their heads on the back of their unexpected family member. The all-important charge for Heth, who lost so much of her spirit on this day.

   “...Be cautious with who you love, little one,” Heth finally murmured, pushing her face into the thick, wet fur. “It was only by luck I found mine...and if my theory is correct, children that aren’t...like we are..... They won’t last.” Hath cried harder, yet still silent as ever- only the trembling of her body conveyed her anguish- and Albatros looked up at Heth to give her a look...

   But when he met those bright, pink eyes, he knew...that she was serious. And this might truly be an issue of dragons like them.

   ...He didn’t know how to feel about that.

[candlespages]

It poured out of me this morning, and it was the only way to kill my insomnia tonight:

There is an inherent escapism to the act of writing. 

You fill your head with words until they jumble and dance in your mind, almost alive. A psychedelic spiral. Worlds whose treshold you can cross. New things to discover.

New mental pathways - yours only - fill the spaces in your brain. They are unique to you. And for you, it is so easy to to understand, to get there - you don’t give it even half a thought. Nothinng needs explaining. Not like outside. There, you’re hard-pressed to put all of this into words. You’ve tried. The spoken word is always unsatisfying. Too sharp. Too blunt. Too slow or quick. all comes out either as a bullet train or as a chopped up too clumsy stilted thing. It doesn’t work.

You understand your own worlds, your own words, and your own truths without trying. They are there. In your mind. Tendrils of smoke at your metaphorical fingertips. A spark of energy in a synapse. The characters are trusty companions. The world is just a thought away; the threshold a wisp away. It is freeing to step in so easily. To not have anything left to prove - it is your world, mold it like clay, be anything you desire. Is it lonely?

You tend to lose yourself in your worlds. In their customs and languages and flavours. In the words themselves. The circumvolutions of the syntax. The choreograhy of the vocabulary. Those become things in itself. Are you obsessed with them yet?

Different things are for different people, as they say. 

When does it become something more? 

You feel trapped in the outside world. claustrophobic in your own home. Sometimes in you own country. Plato spoke of the sôma sêma, but the body is not your prison.The world is. You feel trapped in it. You want- no, need to flee, but too many things tie you down. You are the albatros on the ship. Everything is out of control, and you can’t summon the energy to free yourself.

When do the words become a refuge? When do they become a cage?

Reading is not always enough. 

You breathe life into the words. Your lips, your tongue, your breath, all the mechanics of your body. The verb is spoken, it blooms directly in you imagination. It teases at you. You give life to those strange unexplored world. They exist through you. You infuse them with your experiences, your lives, your truths. No two readers share the same world. There is no carbon copy, no daguerreotype, no polaroïd. How could it be? 

Nevertheless, you are aflame with the need to share everything of the worlds. pure creativity runs through your veins like rivers of fire. 

Sharing the worlds is a joy in itself. So you are bound to be excited. Bound to be effusive. Aren’t you? Are you supposed to not come alive with the power of all of this, this piece of your very self, of your very own, without bubbling over at the occasion? Is it so weird? So abnormal to rip at the seem with the enthusiasm of sharing that which you love?

Is there nobody to suspend judgment? Nobody to receive this? Nobody to hear? To see?

You reach out. A hand across the void. You reach out of your skin. Out of your being. 

Out there. In the great out there. Surely, there is someone out there who will see.

The words tumble like pebbles on a moutain road. They pour down like rain in a storm. It’s a downpour. Quicksilver words that you can barely write in time. Your body is alive with them. They prickle on your skin. You can’t sleep through the monsoon of them. They have to come out. You are their vessel. Enthousiasmos.

It’s never a steady flow.

Sometimes, it comes to a stand still. They refuse to come out, shy away from the page like scared rabbits. They won’t come if you try to force them out, but they are dormant. You stop. You can’t do more. You simply cannot reach them. They elude you, stay just out of reach, closed to you. But they must flow naturally. Otherwise, it just feels wrong. Truncated. Bland and muted like a bad aquarelle. The shadow of what it once was, in your mind. Faded paint on a canvas. 

You can’t help yourself. The urge is there, somehow, so, yes, you force them out. Rip them out of your skull. Leave them out there in the open. Crying out. 

It doesn’t matter.

Whatever their means of existence on the paper, they are always drowned out. 

There are better voices out there, muting them. You don’t begrudge them that. Whatever they be, may they be realised to their full potential. May they be heard, they diserve it. Do you get envious sometimes? You are human. Of course, you do. Of their talent. you wish to be able to reach as far as they do. Touch the stars with your words. Not in your mind, but out there.

Is there anyone left to see? Anyone left to answer? To share with you in synch? 

Is all that is left a blank screen?

[ninjacat1515]

Trouble At Sea

- Sooner or later the banshee came stomping back down the stairs. She drew her sword, seemingly in a worse mood than when she had left, and it didn’t get any better when she found out her next victim had vanished. The ghost captain had stopped and stood idle for a moment, then walking up to the bars. She started shaking when all she found was a pile of clothes. “GENTLEMEN!” She bellowed at the top of her voice. “THE PRISONER ESCAPED! FIND HER NOW!”

@captainshadowhunter625  

The captain did not spot her, thank God. Eliza peered up the stairs, listening to the sounds of frantic prisoner hunting, and the increasingly angry creature who ran this horror show. She would have to be much smaller than a cat. 

Within a second, a skittering little lizard appeared on the stairs, anchoring its tiny claws to the underside of the wood; just in case anyone came flying down the steps. Eliza darted from the depths of the ship and onto the deck, hugging the sides and dodging boots and demons. The very front of the ship would offer the most direct route of escape. Scuttling up to the railing, she stared out at the vast expanse of water. Time to ditch the circus. 

An Albatros appeared, fanning it’s wings to catch the approaching gust of wind. Eliza’s heart filled with elation, and she began to lift off from the railing.

[bmaxwell]

Number 56: Bionic Commando

Bionic Commando was a weird game. It was cool as hell, but weird. It was a platformer where you can’t jump, which never really made sense to me. His legs are strong enough to run around and fight, but not strong enough to jump? The explanation was that the arm was too heavy for jumping? Fuck off with that. You used your bionic arm to latch onto ledges and swing, or pull yourself forward. You could kind of bop the bad guys a little with it too. The game also had an exploding Hitler head as well as a swear at the end. I felt like I was getting away with something. 

It had a lot of cool stuff that hadn’t really become commonplace at that point: swappable weapons and armor, and an overhead map come to mind. The story was pretty light; you were Ladd Spencer, charged with rescuing Super Joe from the BADDs. They were building some sort of doomsday thing called The Albatros Project and trying to raise Master D - the one who held the key knowledge to finish the project - from the dead. This was the case in the US release anyway. In Japan the BADDs were Nazis, and Master D was Hitler. The Swastikas were also replaced by eagles in the US release.

So there’s a lot going on. The stages came in 3 varieties:

- Regular-ass stage: You have a gun and you’re shooting other dudes with guns. You’re swinging from platform to platform, or climbing upwards with your robit arm. Sometimes you find a comm room and try to intercept enemy communications. The stages frequently had a lot of vertical stuff happening. 

- Top down stage: There are enemy trucks and choppers roaming around the map. Collide with one and you have to fight your way through a short top down shooter stage. 

- Neutral zone: Talky areas where any aggressive action will result in being swarmed by enemies. Stuff can be had here.

Some stages are only doable with specific weapons and, frustratingly, each comm room requires one of 4 colored communicators that must be chosen at the beginning of the stage. Brought the wrong communicator? Start the level over, chump. 

Moving around in the world with the bionic arm was so different and, once I got the hang of it, was incredibly fun. The RPG elements of finding and equipping gear felt novel, the music was great, and the story was cool and fucked up.

At the end, Hitler Master D gets raised from the dead, and you blow up his helicopter before he can escape but after he calls you a damn fool. I was like Whoa Hitler just cussed I’m glad my mom isn’t in the room! And I had the last laugh because I got to see his head blow up before flying out of the explosion with Super Joe in tow. 

Democracy saved.

[kakarikoherald]

Nintendo Download (UK) - June 27th, 2019

UK, here’s your download!

Super Mario Maker 2 (Nintendo, €59.99 / £49.99) - Break the rules and make the Super Mario courses you’ve always dreamed of in Super Mario Maker 2! With lots of new tools, course parts and features at your disposal, let your imagination run wild as you craft unique levels to share with friends and players all over the world

Super Mario Maker 2 + Nintendo Switch Online (Nintendo, €69.99 / £59.99) - Bonus: Download code for Nintendo Switch Online Individual Membership 12-month subscription.

Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night (505 Games, €39.99 / £34.99) - Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night is a gothic horror, side-scrolling, action RPG set in 18th century England. A paranormal force has summoned a demon-infested castle, revealing crystal shards infused with tremendous magical power. Play as Miriam, an orphan scarred by an alchemist's curse which slowly crystallizes her body. To save humanity, and herself in the process, Miriam must fight through the castle and defeat the summoner, Gebel.

Fort Boyard (Microids, €29.99 / £26.99) - Cross the threshold of Fort Boyard and complete the challenges! Enter Fort Boyard and take up the challenge with more than 10 activities that combine Action and Party Games! Endurance, dexterity, and perseverance will be your best assets for collecting boyard coins.

MotoGP19 (Milestone, €59.99 / £49.99) - MotoGP19 celebrates passion for motorsports with many new features! With the Historical Challenges mode, you can relive the most exciting rivalries that made the history of the MotoGP! Compete with a faster, smarter and more accurate AI based on machine learning! Play with your favourite 2019 Championship rider and race on 19 different tracks! Discover all the classes: MotoGP, Moto2, Moto3, Red Bull MotoGP Rookies Cup and the new MotoE.

Psyvariar Delta (Dispatch Games, €26.44 / £23.50) - First released in arcades in 2000, this enhanced version retains the classic BUZZ system that lets players enjoy the thrill of levelling up by avoiding direct hits and evading enemy attacks just enough to graze their planes.

Soldam: Drop, Connect, Erase (Dispatch Games, €7.00 / £6.27) - Dispatch Games brings back the Jaleco arcade classic with, Soldam: Drop, Connect, Erase. The game has been refreshed with updated graphics and gameplay, but retains its arcade charm with its catchy music and unique style that have been fan favourites for many years.

Super Neptunia RPG (Reef Entertainment, €49.99 / £44.99) - Super Neptunia RPG lets players explore side-scrolling dungeons and fight in turn-based battles with all-new art and animations! Settle the debate once and for all – which games are better: 2D or 3D!

Devil May Cry (CAPCOM, €19.99 / £15.99) - The first appearance of Dante, the ultimate devil hunter! With the blood of a legendary demon warrior flowing through his veins, Dante takes on a mission from the mysterious Trish to travel to Mallet Island and defeat Mundus, the king of the underworld. But this is no ordinary job for Dante, who is also motivated by revenge... Use your sword and dual guns to pull off flashy combos in this classic title which introduced the "stylish action" genre to the world.

Terraria (505 Games, €29.99 / £24.99) - The very world is at your fingertips as you fight for survival, fortune, and glory. Delve deep into cavernous expanses, seek out ever-greater foes to test your mettle in combat, or construct your own city - In the World of Terraria, the choice is yours!

We. The Revolution (Klabater, €19.99 / £17.99) - We. The Revolution is a unique game with a singular art style set in the blood-soaked and paranoid world of the French Revolution, where often you could not tell a friend from an enemy. As a judge of the Revolutionary Tribunal, you will pass sentences and play a dangerous political game. At the end of a day you will also confront your decisions with your family.

SEGA AGES Virtua Racing (SEGA, €6.99 / £5.99) - Experience the herald of modern racing games, Virtua Racing! It's a race against time, but be careful, running into opponents and obstacles will slow you down. Can you beat the clock? Now featuring rankings and replays, online 2-player races, offline multiplayer races (up to 8-players at once on a single Nintendo Switch), the crash-disabling helper mode, and motion controls.

Azuran Tales: TRIALS (Tiny Trinket Games, €12.99 / £11.69) - Armies of undead, flying sharks and the price of immortality. Azuran Tales: Trials is a brutal platformer with RPG elements, challenging combat and merciless enemies. Journey across the World of Azuran as you discover its beautiful levels, expansive lore and unravel the mystery of Magrath. But don't expect an easy journey as you explore this world full of lore, monsters, traps, and unique bosses. This game is straightforward and hard to beat so you will be forced to learn and adapt or fail and die each and every time!

Baobabs Mausoleum Ep.2: 1313 Barnabas Dead End Drive (Zerouno Games, €5.99 / £5.39) - Welcome to Flamingos Creek, the ghostly town which only appears every 25 years in Albatros Road. A town that only appears in nightmares! Now arrives the second Baobabs Mausoleum chapter with “Baobabs Mausoleum Ep.2: 1313 Barnabas Dead End Drive” which follows the adventure of our FBI Agent Watracio Walpurgis in his quest: Escape from Flamingos Creek. Now you can explore Flamingos Creek wilfully! You will find the logic evolution of an “open town”, where you will have a profound experience with the town, its inhabitants, main story and secondary missions.

Bitlogic - A Cyberpunk Arcade Adventure (OXiAB Game Studio, €5.95 / £4.99) - Bitlogic is an action and adventure game elegantly classic but enhanced with new adapted graphics. In the game you take control of Bit, your personal avatar in a virtual cyberpunk world full of dangerous enemies, hidden paths and digital mysteries. Immerse yourself in Bit's universe and dare to uncover the secrets behind the source code. Explore, defend yourself and find the correct way to the heart and soul of Bitlogic. This Bitlogic version is an enhanced adaptation of our Bitlogic MSX game.

Chiki-Chiki Boxy Pro Wrestling (The Pocket Company, €13.49 / £12.14) - The battle gong sounds! Make your way through the tournament, aiming for the top! The controls are easy! You can bust out flashy moves with just a single button. Unleash jump attacks, drops, holds, and specials, carrying them out just how you think of them! Up to 6 players can play. Compete in intense battles with players from all around the world! Combine your favourite parts and moves to create your very own custom wrestler!

Dandy Dungeon - Legend of Brave Yamada - (Onion Games, €15.39 / £13.85) - Yamada-kun (age 36) is a programmer at a major game publisher. He hates his job. Deep into every night, alone in his apartment, he works on his own game: it's an RPG, and he is the hero, Brave Yamada! One day, he falls in love at first sight with his new neighbour Maria-chan and in an effort to nurture these feelings, adds Princess Maria into his game! Will Yamada-kun and Maria-chan find love? Find out in this unique RPG from Onion Games!

DOBUTSU SHOGI WORLD (SILVERSTAR, €34.99 / £31.49) - Master Shogi easily with this game! Let’s play and learn Shogi on three levels! A game played on a 3×4 square board with eight animal pieces. Cute animal pieces have marks to show the direction of movement. Easy rules. Have fun learning basic Shogi!

Epic Astro Story (Kairosoft, €10.00 / £8.99) - Ready to test your mettle against the final frontier? Pioneer an untamed planet, building roads and houses for your fellow denizens of the future. Cultivate your quaint colony into a stellar space citadel, and you'll pull alien tourists from everywhere this side of Alpha Centauri!

Furwind (JanduSoft, €8.99 / £8.09) - Furwind is a colourful, pixel art style, action-platformer game that evokes the challenging classics of the old days. Embark on this epic adventure in which a little fox will fight the ominous darkness that is invading its world.

Goonya Fighter (MUTAN, €4.27 / £3.85) - A different kind of fighting game! Even with just one Nintendo Switch device, up to 4 people can fight it out. Are you ready to become a Goonya Fighter? Walk too far and you flop over; punch the wrong way and be sent flying! And get back up again just as easily! For beginners and pros alike, welcome to a different kind of fighting game.

Graveyard Keeper (tinyBuild Games, €19.99 / £17.99) - Graveyard Keeper is the most inaccurate medieval cemetery management sim of the year. Build & manage your own graveyard while finding shortcuts to cut costs, expand into entertainment with witch-burning festivals, and scare nearby villagers into attending church. This is a game of capitalism and doing whatever it takes to build a thriving business.

Human Rocket Person (2nd Studio, €4.49 / £4.04) - Join Human Rocket Person on the adventure of a lifetime as he tries to save the universe. Jump your way through different levels on your incredible pogo stick. Fly with special abilities and master the awkward controls.

Irony Curtain: From Matryoshka with Love (Artifex Mundi, €19.99 / £17.99) - Experience the totalitarian Matryoshka through the eyes of Evan – a low-ranking, goofy journalist involuntarily pulled right into the middle of an espionage stand-off between two powers. Jump into the wacky spy adventure, uncover secrets of the bizarre communist country (and the powerful capitalist empire!), witness a story full of unpredictable twists and turns, and discover the true agenda of the mysterious Supreme Leader!

Lines X (Nestor Yavorskyy, €0.74 / £0.66) - Lines X is a Numberlink-based puzzle game involving finding paths to connect coloured tiles in a grid: 100 brain-teasing Numberlink puzzles, beautiful abstract design, more than 10 colour themes, 8 ambient relaxing soundtracks.

NEKOPARA Vol.3 (CFK, €10.99 / £9.89) - "NEKOPARA Vol.3", the third instalment of the world-famous NEKOPARA adventure game series, has arrived on Nintendo Switch! Prepare for a brand-new story in which Maple and Cinnamon take centre stage! The game has been updated for its console release, which includes a completely new opening movie and song as well as full-HD graphics. NEKOPARA is once again ready to serve its loyal customers all around the world!

Penguin Wars (Dispatch Games, €13.22 / £11.89) - Join Riley and his friends on their journey to Gira Gira land. Collect items and earn candy to evolve your favourite character. You can also buy "Gira Skills" that let you learn special moves for each character. You can play one on one, two on two, or even play with different rules such as using bombs and other items against your opponents. Each character has a different skill set so make sure to use and master appropriate characters to help you on your journey.

Q-YO Blaster (Forever Entertainment, €8.99 / £8.09) - Q-YO Blaster is a horizontal Shoot 'Em Up , with peculiar characters, strange enemies, bullets, many bullets and many explosions. Enter the miniature world and stop the threat. Enjoy the rudeness with weapons, special powers and help from mystical beings. Q-YO Blaster has a nice 2d environment with detailed pixel art scenarios, varied enemies section, stages, powers, improvements and many more!

Rain City (ORENDA, €6.72 / £5.96) - The game begins with the main character, a cat, who embarks to Rain City to find his sister. The story is both bizarre and exciting making players get lost in a mushroom field, search for a secret passage, and run experiments in a laboratory. The reason rain continues in Rain City is uncovered when players find his missing sister...

SEGA AGES Wonder Boy: Monster Land (SEGA, €6.99 / £5.99) - Sequel to the original Wonder Boy, Wonder Boy: Monster Land returns in SEGA AGES for Nintendo Switch! The arcade platform action RPG stars a now-teenage Tom-Tom, also known as Wonder Boy. Having previously saved Wonder Land from clutches of the evil king, the hero is called upon again when the evil MEKA dragon invades. It's up to Wonder Boy to defeat all the monsters in the now-called "Monster Land." Fight monsters, purchase magical weapons, and traverse the realm today!

War Tech Fighters (Blowfish Studios, €17.99 / £15.99) - Travelling across the galaxy, the rebel colonies of Hebos and Ares join forces to battle against the Zatros empire with the deadliest weapons ever built – War Techs. Taking space combat to a whole new level, War Techs are giant mechs that combine cold precision and state of the art technology in the battlefields of space.

Attack of the Toy Tanks (Ratalaika Games, €3.99 / £3.99) - War is coming whether you’re ready for it or not soldier! In Attack of the Toy Tanks, across the game’s 60 levels in the main campaign, players must take control of the provided vehicle of war and battle it out across different arenas and be the last tank standing.

Headball Soccer Deluxe (Cool Small Games, €4.99 / £4.49) - Smash the football and score goals in this addicting football game! Aim your big head headers and perfect your kick skills to destroy your opponent's team defence. Use the slime, ice, and gum to your max advantage in offence skills! Decorate your characters with a variety of costumes. Create the best athletes by developing characters in your own way! Game on!

Maddening Euphoria (Chequered Ink, €0.99 / £0.99) - Maddening Euphoria is a unique, challenging arcade game with randomly generated level design, in which you control brother and sister duet Mason and Millicent Zane as they flee from their own imagined realisation of their troubles in life - an inescapable wall of death - while avoiding bottomless pits, deadly spikes and speed-reducing pools of thick goo. Keep within spitting distance of the wall to receive a short, colourful Second Wind speed boost and gain the opportunity to be one-eighth euphoric.

Rally Rock 'N Racing (EnjoyUp Games, €7.99 / £7.19) - In Rally Rock 'N Racing, you’ll enjoy a wide variety of natural environments, such as deserts, snow-covered mountains, forests... where you can show your skill at the wheel, competing against everyone to become the fastest. The game has several modes, such as Championship, Time Trial, Arcade, and 4-player multiplayer.

Arcade Archives CLU CLU LAND (HAMSTER, €6.99 / £6.29) - "CLU CLU LAND" is an action game released by Nintendo in 1984. In "CLU CLU LAND", you control of the main character, GLOOPY, to find hidden gold ingots hidden around the stage. GLOOPY automatically moves forward, but by holding and releasing the turn posts at the right time, you can send GLOOPY off in different directions. You are also able to enjoy playing together in coop mode.

Real Drift Racing (Cool Small Games, €3.74 / £3.36) - Time to unleash the demon of speed! Drifting, speed and competition - all in one game! Get ready to drive on high-performance cars and make them drift at lightning speed on realistic tracks. Improve your racing and drifting skills as you earn cash to buy new cars! Tune and customize your cars and become the best driver in the world!

Spell Casting: Purrfectly Portable Edition (Hidden Trap, €9.99 / £8.99) - Spell Casting is a line drawing puzzle game in which you are a young wizard learning spells in the comfort of your home thanks to Wizardly Distance Education offered by the prestigious Magical Education Of Wizards School!

Switch eShop - Demos Dragon Quest Builders 2 Demo(Nintendo, Free) - Dragon Quest Builders 2 is headed to Nintendo Switch. Combining both RPG and crafting gameplay together, this game is all about gathering materials to create things like weapons, buildings, and even entire towns! With the help of the mysterious Malroth and other villagers, you’ll be exploring large islands, finding quests, and battling monsters and bosses scattered around the world. Are you prepared to take on the Children of Hargon?

Grass Cutter - Mutated Lawns (Sometimes You, Free) - The goal is to cut the grass. Very simple, but only at first glance… Grass Cutter calls for focus and commitment. Just one blink of an eye – and you lost. It is very challenging! The game is made in a cubic retro-style, has high complexity at advanced levels and is ready to truly test your reaction!

GOD EATER 3 Demo (BANDAI NAMCO Entertainment, Free) - The latest numbered entry in the popular God Eater franchise has finally come to the Nintendo Switch! Now you can experience the game's intriguing story, distinct characters, and stylish, high-speed combat whenever you're on the go, both alone and with friends!

Desktop BaseBall Trial Edition (SAT-BOX, Free) - Watch as your desk transforms into a baseball stadium! Come for the simple controls, stay for the deep strategy. Customize your team down to the uniforms, bats, and pitches and then aim for the big leagues!

Strikey Sisters Demo (DYA GAMES, Free) - Say hello to a fantasy-themed arcade action brick breaker! Featuring cute characters, silly humour, powerful magic, crazy boss battles, and even a local 2 player co-op mode!

For the US Download, click right here!

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