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willtravis · 4 years ago

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There Is No Sickness On Europa - Chapter One

There Is No Sickness On Europa – Chapter One

As Liam sat aboard the cheapest shuttle he could charter, he wondered what life would offer him in the coming months. The sweltering heat caused by the ship’s overworked radiators didn’t make thinking easy, but he gave it his best shot. In just over 36 hours he would be a citizen of Europa, with all of the meaning that entailed. He had no job lined up, no place to live, and a paltry amount of money in his pocket. And to top it all off, this damned heat made it impossible for him to plan.

Not that he could anyway. Liam had never been to Europa. He didn’t know what it was like, the culture, the economics. He knew as well as anyone else in the system that Europa was famed for its healthcare. Supposedly the water had special properties that could heal any illness. As a result, Europa had the most robust hospitals and the best doctors in the system. Liam figured that was a self-fulfilling prophecy. Either way, his shuttle was filled to the brim with people suffering from all manner of afflictions, all heading to Europa to be cured.

One man’s illness frightened Liam. He sat alone in a corner of the passenger hold, shaking relentlessly. His eyes were so bloodshot they seemed solid red. His skin was so grey, he blended into the wall to the point where he seemed to just be a pair of floating red eyes and brown hair drenched in sweat. Liam tried not to look at him often.

The cities of Europa were apparently equally magical. The first colonies had been scientific, searching for life in the geothermal depths. The scientists wanted to be closer to what they were studying rather than separated by fifteen kilometers of ice. So, the first habitats were built upside down, hanging from the ice sheets over a vast dark ocean. They may not have found sentient, water-dwelling creatures below the ice, but as more people were born and colonists immigrated to Europa, more buildings were built off the original scientific outposts. The cities of Europa dangled into the void. It was supposed to be quite beautiful.

Liam had determined, as far as he could given his environment and lack of experience, that Europa should have plenty of hotels since it’s constantly full of visitors. And keeping those near-floating cities water-tight must be a hard job requiring lots of maintenance. He should easily be able to find a job as an electrical engineer or something. He hoped.

Satisfied with his planning, Liam leaned back in his low-cost chair and closed his eyes. And was almost instantly jostled awake by a kid barging past to use the head or something. It would be a long day and a half.

As Liam came back from the galley, the first thing he noticed was that someone stole the jacket he left on his chair. Great, he thought, hopefully the ice moon won’t be cold. The second thing he noticed was the sheer chaos in the passenger bay. Liam’s shipmates may have been placid for the majority of the trip, but the promise of an imminent landing awakened something in each of them, and now the bay was filled with shouts and people hurrying to gather themselves and their belongings at the boarding ramp, eager to finally be free of the ship.

The ship itself was a refitted cargo freighter and had up to that point somehow managed to cope with being crammed full of as many of the inner system’s sick and poor as it could carry. But now the animation that filled its core put a strain on its systems. The shouting and movement threatened to make its poor environmental regulators give out completely, and the heat just made people want to leave sooner.

Liam, for his part, didn’t have any thing to take with him except his now lost jacket. He scanned chaos around him, shrugged his shoulders, and made for the ramp. Even though he left sooner than most passengers, the loading bay was full when Liam arrived, so he waited in the hallway thinking about his new life just moments away. A few minutes later the intercom binged. One minute until the main engine cuts off and gravity with it. Right on cue, the intercom binged again and the concept of “down” lost all meaning. Liam never did get the hang of zero-g. Living down a gravity well all your life makes it difficult. He contented himself with clutching the handrails and waiting for the ship to finally land. Behind him came a dull thud followed by a child crying. Looks like at least one other person can’t handle zero-g.

The ship started jostling around under its old and poorly maintained maneuvering thrusters. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, gravity began to assert itself, and Liam’s feet drifted back towards the bulkhead. Right before he actually touched the floor, however, the entire ship was filled with a clang as it slammed down on the landing pad on the surface. At a comfortable 1/8th G, Liam felt ready to meet his new life. The intercom crackled and came to life.

“Alright folks, the dock is telling us that the outer seals are good, and the landing bay is pressurized. Give us a minute and will lower the ramp and let y’all out. Welcome to Europa,” said a voice that Liam assumed belonged to the captain.

Before him the line started moving as those who were first into the loading area stepped out into the docks. Liam could hardly contain himself. He wondered what awaited him on the other side of the hull. What strange new sights would he see? What kind of life would he live? As he rounded the corner into the loading bay, he drew deep breath, ready to face a new start. He looked out over the throng of people in front of him and saw his first glimpse of Europa. An industrial grey wall crisscrossed with walkways and girders.

The wall itself was massive, dwarfing the workers hustling along it to do their job. The dock was a massive triangle and served as an airlock for ships. It was easily able to handle a ship two or three times the size of the humble transport Liam booked. Hundreds of meters above Liam was a giant mechanical mouth with interlocking teeth. When a ship came in to land, everyone would exit, and the dock would be depressurized. Then that mouth would open and swallow the ship whole.

As Liam reached the end of the ramp, someone in a yellow vest pointed him towards a point in one of the walls.

“Take that lift down to the city proper. No loitering in the docks,” the worker told him.

Liam wasn’t keen on being fined 3 minutes after landing and made his way to the lift without admiring the cavernous room further. Besides, maybe he’d get a job here. There’d be plenty of time for gawking then.

When the doors to the lift opened, the crowd of people behind Liam piled into the lift so Liam could barely stand in the back without leaning on the wall. Then, the lift began its fifteen-kilometer descent to the city.

After what felt like an eternity, the lift finally came to a stop and the doors parted. Liam was so focused on relieving the pressure on his back and neck he didn’t look up until he was out of the lift. When he did, he was blown away.

Before him was a neon garden, with signs and billboards growing from the ground and walls. Above him the ceiling was covered in screens showing Jupiter suspended above them, as if there weren’t kilometers of ice between the city and the sky. Built into the walls around him were storefronts, restaurants, and offices. The smells from all the different kinds of food mixed and lingered in the air, creating something in between chicken soup and raw sewage. Huge herds of people moved to and fro, stopping for food and knick-knacks. Liam watched one woman weave her way through the crowds, barely slowing as she made her way down the wide boulevard. To his right, a sign spoke to him in a neutrally accented, pleasant voice: “Welcome to Europa. We hope you enjoy your stay.”

As Liam took a step forwards, a drone swooped down in front of his face. Its speaker blasted out “Our scans indicate you are not in critical condition. Goodbye.”

“Thanks for that, mate,” Liam mumbled to himself.

He took a look at the billboards surrounding him. Most advertised some radical new treatment for illnesses Liam had never heard of. An injection that makes you immune to the common cold forever. A magic pill that grows you a new kidney. One treatment claimed to let someone breathe in a vacuum for a limited time. To Liam it seemed that each advertisement was more aggressive than the last. The lights, colors, sounds, and smells of this market that eventually Liam just tuned it all out and tried to head somewhere quiet so he could work out a plan to live. Or at least just find a bed to sleep in tonight.

He saw a sign that said residential over a stairway heading down and figured that was his best bet. That was when Liam learned that going downstairs in 1/8th G is a slow and tedious process and after the third flight he wished he took lift, if only to save time. He was so focused on going down that when he finally did reach the residential level, he didn’t even notice that it was quiet.

What he did notice instead was the huge single-pane window in the wall. Liam was apparently near the edge of the city, and aside from two buildings reaching down into the depths like glowing tendrils, the view was completely black. The vast expanse of nothing enraptured Liam so much he didn’t even bother with the bench in front of the window. He just walked right up to the pane and stared. He was so close his breath was fogging up the window, but he didn’t even notice. The scale of the void baffled him. Since stepping off the ship all he saw was massive structure after massive structure, but the ocean beyond was incomprehensible. The cities of Europa were not defiant monuments to the strength of mankind to overcome nature, but instead small, huddled clusters of humanity, just trying to keep each other warm through the night.

Liam’s meditations were interrupted by an uninvited guest. A dark-skinned woman with short hair she kept bundled at the top her head decided to join him. She spoke first.

“Let me ask you a question. You came here in a spaceship, right?”

“Uhh, yeah,” Liam responded, confused.

“Where from?” The stranger continued.

“Earth.”

“Did the ship have windows on it?”

“Yeah, it did.”

“And did you, in all the time you spent on that ship, look out of those windows even once? A couple of times even?”

“Of course, I did,” Liam responded.

The woman sighed. Then continued, “So. You come all the way from Earth to Europa. Past Luna, past Mars, past the Belt. All the way here. Through space. In a ship with windows. Windows that you looked out of. Looked at space. And still, when you do finally get to Europa, what do you do? You look out another window.”

Liam laughed. “Yeah, that’s true.”

The woman seemed to relax a bit. “Ok. Let me ask you another question. Why? What makes this view more captivating than anything on the main promenade? Or space for that matter?

Liam thought for a moment. “I don’t know. It just seems so alien. There’s just nothing out there. In space at least there were stars and planets and moons. Right here? That’s just pitch black. It’s unsettling. But in a good way, I guess. Why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just I always see off-worlders gawking at windows. Figured I at least should ask one what’s so interesting about pitch black nothing. Anyway, what’s wrong with you, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Liam was shocked “What?”

“What are you sick with? What are you here to cure?” The woman explained.

“Oh. I’m not here to cure anything,” Liam explained.

“A friend or family member, then?”

“Nope. Just me. I’m moving here.”

“Wait, really?” She seemed surprised.

“Yeah, is that odd?”

“Well, we don’t really get people moving here. Pretty much everybody is here or with someone who’s here to cure something. Most everybody tries to leave as soon as they can. I guess not many people want to live in a frozen ocean.”

Liam chuckled. “Yeah that’s probably true.”

The woman held out her hand. “I’m Havi.”

Liam shook it. “Liam. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, Liam. So where are you staying?”

Liam took a second to come up with an answer. “I’ve not really figured that out yet. I’m kind of fresh off the ship. Figured I’d stay at a cheap hotel or something until I find a job and can get a lease.”

Havi seemed to think about for something for a minute then said: “Stay with me for a while.”

“What?”

“I mean it. My roommate just left, and my place is too big for one person. And I won’t even charge you until you get a job.”

“Really? You just met me. For all you know I could be some crazed Earther serial killer on the run from the law.”

Havi chortled. “Yeah, the guy who’s unsettled by a bunch of water is a serial killer. Good one.”

“Yeah fair point,” Liam said through a smile.

“Look, just pretend I’m your landlady or whatever. I mean when it’s a choice between a cushy apartment or some seedy hotel, I know what I’d take. Besides, maybe I’m eager to see an Earther’s perspective on my homeworld. Up to you.”

Liam considered for a moment. Not having to pay for a bed until he found work would be nice. But he barely knew this woman. Maybe she lured people to her apartment to kill them. Was it really worth it? Liam’s stomach growled and he thought of his paltry pocketbook. Yeah, it was worth it.

“Alright,” Liam said, “lead the way.”

“Gladly,” Havi responded, and the two marched down the hallway, leaving the window and dark abyss behind them.

#writing #short story #scifi #space

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dragimalsdaydreams · 5 years ago

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man, I think this is the first time I’ve ever had a legitimate ponysona... before this, I could never figure out what class of pony I wanted to be-- and even more frustratingly, if I even wanted to be a *pony* in the first place. I eventually just cut my losses and bound myself to specifically a ponysona or else I’d still be going around in circles still (changeling? deer? kirin??), and I finally figured out an interesting approach to my ‘sona’s class that I think rly fits me

anyways, her info under the cut

Name:

Willowsprout. most folks just call her Willow, though her parents call her Sprout/Sproutling

Class:

most folks assume Willow’s a full-blood unicorn due to her more obvious physical traits. legally she’s an earth pony, since newborn unicorns (in my lore) don’t grow a horn til a few weeks after birth, so her non-unicorn parents just assumed she was full-blood earth and registered her as such. in reality, she’s a bicorn (a concept I describe in more detail here), with most of her magical ability influenced by her earth pony side, and most of her physique influenced by her unicorn side.

Parents:

I usually don’t care to think up parentage for my personal ‘sonas b/c history/family doesn’t matter to me so much as their current/individual state, but this time I might?

see, I’ve always joked that my personality is basically the love-child of Fluttershy (talent with and compassion for all creatures, social anxiety) and Treehugger (hippie aesthetic, mellow vibes, talent with plants), so it makes sense that I’d make them my ‘sona’s parents. BUT a unicorn/earth pony bicorn is p unlikely to result from pegasus/earth pony parentage. not to mention Willow’s white/green palette compared to their respective yellow/pink and green/red...

even so, I still like the idea of them being Willow’s parents, so IF I were to go with them, I’d make Willow an unplanned pregnancy from a fling b/t the two. I like to imagine Discord/Fluttershy/Treehugger in a loose poly “angle”, where Discord/Fluttershy are a solid romantic pair, while Fluttershy/Treehugger sort of vacillate b/t close friends and partners. Discord, despite his tendency towards jealousy, has come to affectionately tolerate(?) Treehugger, and is happy that his wife is happy with the both of them. Willow, however, was born a bit before Discord/Fluttershy became an official couple, and it threw their relationship into a bit of a spiral until Fluttershy, Discord, and Treehugger all finally sat down and worked out their feelings and relationships. since then, Willow has been raised with all three acting as her parents

now if I were to instead just make up parents for Willow, then I’d make them both earth ponies. I like the idea of Willow being entrenched in earth pony culture w/ very little unicorn cultural influence. I especially like the idea of at least one parent (if not both of them) being a farmer of some sort

Special Talent:

while Willow can do magic-based dexterous tasks and pick up reasonably-sized objects with the grace and precision of any full-blood unicorn, she has 0% aptitude for any kind of active spell-casting. even the most simple of spells that a unicorn foal could produce are simply impossible for her. Willow’s true power lies in her earth pony side, with complex, intimate connections to the earth. despite the weakness of her spell-casting, Willow has found a unique way to combine the overt magical influence of unicorn magic with the more subtle influence of earth pony magic

with this combination, Willow can connect to and sense the physical/psychological states of individual organisms and broader ecosystems around her. this can be used identify and help heal ailments, soothe troubled minds, abstractly communicate with other organisms, and even navigate new environments. the Special Talent that Willow typically uses this broad-scope ability for is monitoring broad ecological systems and restoring these systems to balance

one interesting trick of Willow’s Talent allows her to meld seamlessly with the environment around her as a sort of “camouflage”. this doesn’t change anything about her physically, but rather slightly alters the perceptions of those around her so that she simply doesn’t register under any senses. this allows her to quietly observe the environment around her without actively disturbing it. of course if someone knows Willow should be somewhere near them, they can break this passive magic fairly easily, but most creatures aren’t expecting a quiet pony observer, so it’s still a great boon to an ecologist such as herself

despite the control she can exert with her talent, Willow never had much of a taste for the strict monitoring of pony-controlled ecosystems like those around Ponyville. she thinks it best to leave a system to its own devices unless absolutely necessary. thus, Willow’s taken to casually traveling the land, documenting flora and fauna, and stopping to help any systems that need to rebalance

these travels have brought her into contact with several other species, and given her a broader perspective on pony relations with the land and other creatures. she’d never been able to put a hoof on exactly what bothered her about pony-controlled systems, but she’s since learned what it means to live in and among systems, rather than ruling and subduing systems as ponies tend towards. she’s now an active supporter of non-pony sovereignty and land rights, and always works directly with locals whenever she finds an ecosystem in need

Cutie Mark:

Willow’s mark is a stylized aspen tree forest hanging down into the shape of an aspen leaf, representing the concurrently individual and collective nature of nature

(yes, I know her name is Willow, but willows are close relatives of aspens, and “willow’ flows better for her name..)

Personality:

Willow is generally laid back and accommodating, taking situations as they arise with the patience of a rolling wave. she used to be rather timid in her youth, but has mellowed out a bit in her adult years. her social anxiety is definitely still there, but it’s far more manageable now. while Willow is polite when confronted, she’s still not an especially sociable pony, even without the immediate threat of anxiety

Willow tends to shut down in crowded, loud, high-stress environments/situations (this issue is compounded in areas without much plant life, like cities). a thousand-yard stare and one-word responses are clear signs she probably needs a breather with fresh air and a potted plant or two

while Willow’s “camouflage” magic is certainly an active choice at crowded social events, she’s prone to unconsciously pulling the shroud around herself as she simply goes about her life. she prefers to quietly observe the world around her even when she’s not working, and the shroud helps her pass through the day undisturbed. this often leads to spooks when she unintentionally creeps up on a friend to say hello

despite not being very talkative with other creatures, Willow’s prone to idle chatter with plants, and even sings to them on occasion. this likely doesn’t help them grow, but she at least enjoys it

while Willow certainly has strong opinions on social issues-- especially those intersecting with her work with nature and other creatures-- she’s more likely to quietly observe and catalog the opinions of others and act accordingly, rather than state her opinion outright. she’s just not one for outright conflict

Hobbies:

beyond her work with all things natural, Willow loves visual art-- especially drawing and various crafts like sewing, knitting, and found-object sculpture. she loves to collect any interesting rocks, dried plants, and various animal bones she finds out in the field, which she sends back home to later arrange into elaborate displays. her drawing skills are highly refined, and she’s a well-known name among zoological/botanical illustrators. she often takes commissions from fellow researchers who need visual aids for their own work, completing them while trekking around the world

Willow’s interests slant towards the macabre in some respects, which sometimes shocks strangers who judge her to be too meek to enjoy such subjects. usually this interest is academic, such as dissecting a corpse for study/reference, or exploring abandoned areas for curiosities. though she won’t deny that she enjoys the fear-driven thrill of a good spooky tale~ Willow’s humor also tends towards the dark and self-deprecating, especially in the company of close friends

Willow loves a good book-- when she’s not out in the field, she’s most content to curl up in bed with a biology journal, fantasy book, or supernatural/horror novel. she dabbles in writing, but mostly in the form of field journals and poetry

Physicality:

Willow takes strongly after her unicorn side in this respect, with very little built-in strength or stamina to speak of. her work serves to fortify these physical aspects of course, but any time she takes an extended break, she’s right back to square one

Willow’s one physical reminder of her earth side is her small hoof-nails, whose color often blends into the color of the surrounding hoof anyways

Willow is rather short and slight compared to most ponies. while unicorns aren’t the tallest of classes, they usually aren’t the shortest either, so her size is a bit odd to see in a so-called unicorn lineup. her height may be influenced by her earth side since earth pony sizes can vary a lot, but it could just be a simple genetic fluke in this case

#mlp #My Little Pony #my little pony friendship is magic #MLP:FiM #ponysona #anyways anyone who knows me know this is just my dragonsona as a pony I'm sorry I'm so predictable asdfgh #willowsprout

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darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts · 6 years ago

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His Songbird

Hey guys! I am alive... kinda.... mostly. Well, I'm present enough to have written this little short for you all. I started writing in the fandom for IkeSen with my Moblords and Devil’s Own Luck. I had no idea how much it would be liked and I was over the moon when I wrote the sequel and had even more people enjoy it. I am lucky enough to share my birthday month with the Devil King so decided to create this tale. I hope you like it - Aerion x

A new layer has been added to the mob lord world and The Devil King of the Upper East Side himself will be showing it to us. What kind of relationship does our arrogant and always enigmatic Nobu have to an Italian performer in a "reputable" cabaret?

Warnings: Strong language, suggestive/leading romance (prelude to smut), 1 Devil King and 1 Songbird.

Masterlist

---

His Songbird

There was a lingering fresh smell in the air. The cleansing effect of the recent shower of rain that washed over the area was still hampering the toxic fumes of the city traffic. Street vendors selling mouth-wateringly tempting snacks had temporarily closed during the downpour and were now busying themselves with the returning crowds as they clamoured around looking to fill their stomachs.

A familiar and comforting weight at his side reminded him of his firearm, sitting in its holster, as he removed himself from his car and took to the streets. It had been a hellish week that had taken him to the different quarters of the city travelling for meetings with the minor factions within his empire. The crisis with Esshu Industries had left more than a few of his loyal followers with a bitter taste in their mouths. Questions still dogged him as he moved from location to location wondering if what had happened would repeat again.

He had given them all that cocky, self-assured smile and arrogant flamboyance he was known for as he sweet talked his way around the issue. The offending company had yet to dissolve or collapse after the fall of its CEO. Would this happen again? Honestly, he had no idea what the future held. In the world he lived in, not knowing the future variables would render most men virtually useless, as they stumbled in the dark grasping at straws. He was not most men.

The rhythmic clack of his highly polished custom-made shoes moving over the smooth paving stones in the street felt like they were grounding him to the present, mercifully preventing his mind from wandering along the avenues that threatened to derail his cool and collected facade.

---

“Dammit, Mitsuhide I’m asking you where he is!” Hideyoshi’s voice growled out in Mitsuhide’s office as he became increasingly more frustrated with the man and bashed a clenched fist on the desk.

“And I have already told you I couldn’t possibly say.” Mitsuhide replied without even glancing at his angry visitor. His fingers working their way over the keyboard of his computer as if playing a concerto on a piano, even as the coffee cup he had placed next to him rattled on his disturbed desk.

“Can’t or won’t?” Hideyoshi was far from calm, whenever anything happened to Nobunaga he was always first to jump into action on the boss’s behalf. And right now, Hideyoshi could feel that tell-tale panicked feeling creeping up his back like ice water.

“You’ve become very good at phrasing.” Chuckling Mitsuhide stopped typing finally looking Hideyoshi in the eye and grinning. “The answer is both.”

Mitsuhide’s face was a perfect mask of amusement whilst also giving nothing away of his own thoughts. He looked just as impertinent as he always did and that was just as irritating as it was impressive given that Hideyoshi seemed to be in full “mummy bear” mode.

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t tell you and I also won’t be. He has just as much right as everyone else to go and seek enjoyment without being mothered to death.” Mitsuhide picked up his coffee smiling into his drink as he took a sip. Those sharp almost luminous yellow eyes never once leaving the soft brown ones of Hideyoshi. If someone was going the break this staring competition and the battle of wills with the worrywart it would not be him.

Mitsuhide’s answer gave Hideyoshi more questions than it really answered, but he bit his lip and didn’t ask any of them. Mitsuhide clearly knew something he didn’t. That annoyed him but it was also such a common thing that it was as much a part of his life as breathing at this point. Hideyoshi just had to trust that although the boss was unreachable that he was safe. After all, Mitsuhide wouldn’t ignore a dangerous situation when it came to the boss’s safety right?

---

The side streets were less crowded as he took a hard-right turn through the swirling tide of pedestrians and made his way to a familiar building. The ground beneath his feet had changed to a combination of smooth tarmac and smaller more uneven cobblestones. This was where the older parts of the city began to merge with the newer ones, the pathways were well maintained but not suited to high levels of commuters travelling to and from work.

It was a pick and mix of small shops that almost seemed to spring out of the walls in this area. They all catered for a time when modernisation never happened. The storefronts were clad in wooden skins, with fabric and paper decorations adorning the outside of them in places making it look like a festival had just finished.

The faded colours and ink were advertising items for sale and blessings from the heavens. Nobunaga smiled wryly to himself as he looked at them in passing. To think someone believed in such things to get jobs done? Luck was not something bestowed on you from the heavens it was something you made for yourself. That was what he believed and he had not once seen anything that made him believe otherwise. The brickwork was darker here, it was less pristine looking and felt like it carried the weight of history in it as he continued on to the building he was looking for.

A heavy wooden door that had thick cast iron stud work on it and scarlet paint called to him like a beacon in the darkness. There was no sign here, only a single slightly rusted ornate birdcage hanging on a hook next to the door with a large electric light bulb inside it. He raised his hand and gave three firm knocks to the sliding panel. The faint sound of someone coughing drawing nearer on the other side announced the arrival of the doorman before the panel even moved.

“Yes?” The low gruff voice called out as two eyes full of suspicion leered at him from behind the door.

“Lovely night for a song.”

There was a weighted metallic clunk and the door creaked on its hinges creating a large enough gap for him to enter. The light inside the entryway was dim. Frosted glass shell shaped sconce lights cast only enough illumination to allow the guests to avoid injury as they moved without announcing to the world their identities.

The air smelt of a comforting combination of a lightly spiced incense and something familiar but intangible. The doorman moved back to his small desk taking a seat, ignoring the world around him again as he picked up a tabloid and began reading whatever article he had started before the door interrupted him. Nobunaga smiled at the sight. Here he was treated exactly like everyone else. It didn’t matter who or what you were when you stepped foot inside the door of The Birdcage you were all given the same greeting.

Walking confidently past the desk Nobunaga paced his hand on the heavy draped fabric covering a section of wall, dragging back a curtain of thick crushed velvet to access the door hidden behind it. The heart of the building was much larger than you might expect given the rather modest entrance. Several of the joining buildings on either side and directly behind the establishment had been combined to create this magical venue.

It was a bolt hole for the rich, wealthy and impossibly famous. Whether you operated in the light or the dark, you came here to escape and relax. It was in a way a protected environment that gave the illusion of being open and free. There had never been what you might call a prohibition on much in the city. Anything was fair game if you could handle the price. Still, places like this tucked away from direct view existed. A little entertainment and safe neutral ground to talk, trade and conduct business awaited you just the other side of the curtain in The Birdcage.

Soft melodies carried in the air through the room as he made his way towards the crescent moon shaped bar to place his drink order. Soft backlighting lit up the impressive array of bar optics and other bottles of fine liqueurs sitting neatly on the glass shelves.

“Dry Martini”

“Sure thing.” The young bartender gave a friendly smile and elegantly began blending the vermouth and gin together in a shaker.

A few minutes later, perfectly prepared chilled drink in hand. Nobunaga had located the private booth he usually frequented and was settling in to enjoy his small moment of escapism. It had been far too long since he had visited here of late and he could feel the anticipation building within him as he sipped on the cocktail and glanced around.

There were open tables dotted around the floor with flickering candles placed at their centres. Deep burgundy coloured booths lined the walls with uninterrupted views of the stage. The soft leather seating sighed faintly under his weight as he adjusted himself awaiting the main act of the night.

Tempo shifted from the grand piano on stage along with the lighting as a single spotlight was cast down to the vintage microphone silently announcing the singer. There was a swish of emerald green fabric as the exotic olive-skinned woman stepped into the light and seductively gripped the cold metal in front of her, tilting it to an optimum position with her impeccably manicured hand.

When she opened her cherry red lips the sound of her voice ran through him like an electrical current. It jolting through his very bones and he allowed the world to melt away around him as he watched the performer. She had always had this effect on him. The sultry lilt of her voice carried him in raptures, filling his mind with nothing but a pleasant numbness that otherwise was a maniacal hum of chaotic thoughts.

Her warm honey coloured eyes seemed to be staring right at him. The smokey eyeshadow she had chosen for tonight made her gaze look more intense than usual. Nobunaga drained his glass and caught a passing waitress’s attention for a refill.

Song after song flowed from the lips of the enchantress on stage. The piano accompaniment next to her combined its notes with her voice effortlessly. Some songs were sad, some were happy but each one held a spell of its own and chased out the thoughts from his mind as if she were shining a light directly into his soul. As the last note faded the singer bowed slightly and left the stage, her waist-length brown hair that was cascading down her back like a waterfall danced behind her. Nobunaga’s eyes followed the sensual sway of her body as she vanished from sight backstage and gathered himself to follow.

---

Her dressing room was the same as ever. Elegant and expensive gowns on hangers decorating the walls as if they were silk prints. Her dressing table was a neat arrangement with stage make up on one side and lighter everyday make up to the other side in front of a large white rococo mirror. A jewellery stand in the shape of a tree glittered at the corner of the table dripping with the elegant pieces she used to bring more glamour to her already polished performances.

A black lacquered screen decorated in gold and pink flowers stood proudly in the corner of the space and provided a little modesty to allow her to change. Silk stockings were draped over the top of the screen and the back of an ornate sofa like discarded snake skins. After gaining access to the room he tried to ignore that little stab he felt in his chest as he looked at the newer items in the room.

Basic furniture had been supplied when she started working here but a lot of what was in the room including the dresses were items gifted to her from happy customers, all too willing to support such beguiling talent. Was it jealousy? Of course it was. He knew that all too well and had spent many years at this point frustrated with how weak it made him feel. But he was damned if he was going to admit that.

Nobunaga took a seat on the sofa without invitation. A sight that made the woman smile as she looked at his reflected image in the mirror and removed some of the foundation from her face. The appearance of the faint lines on her skin reminded him of the years that had passed sending a warmth trickling through his chest warming him.

Her rich chocolate brown hair seemed to have more blonde highlights in it than the last time he saw her. He knew it was her subtle way of masking the growing numbers of grey hairs that had begun to streak her head like tails of falling comets in the night sky. Nobunaga couldn’t help but think that some women age terribly and then there are others like the one sitting in front of him that just seem to improve like a fine wine.

“It’s been a while. I was not expecting to see you today.” She gave him a happy smile, the excitement in her voice appearing unhidden as those almond shaped eyes looked at him with soft warmth through the mirror.

“I found myself with some free time.” He unbuttoned his jacket and removed it, tossing it in the direction of a chair by the wall. Revealing his pinstriped waistcoat and dress shirt. His tie had long been forgotten and balled up into one of his jacket pockets. His holster was the next to be removed but he made sure to keep the weapon close at hand. You could never be too cautious.

“Is that so? Well, I am at least glad to see il mio uomo preferito. [1]” Her slip into her native language always made him smile. She knew just how to remove the small doubts and fears he never spoke of and draw him closer to her. That’s right. You are mine and no one else can have you as I do. No one else shall ever make you feel the way I can.

“Come here Songbird.” Nobunaga patted his thigh an alluring smirk spreading across his face. Carana stood from her dressing table and was moving to join him when there was a knock at the door. Irritation surged through him barely masked in his face as the smile on his lips vanished and the warmth he felt was replaced with a cold hard weight in his stomach. “You were expecting someone else?” He had meant it as a simple question but it had escaped his mouth in something more akin to an accusation.

“I ordered some drinks. I saw you in the audience and thought you might pay me a visit.” Her scent enveloped him as she changed her trajectory and went to answer her door. A member of the club’s bar staff was standing there a small tray balanced in their hands. So, she really was looking at me.

“And if I hadn’t?”

“Then I would have had two drinks to myself.” Carana shrugged her shoulders the chain of her necklace glimmered in the light it caught around her swan-like neck as it flexed on her bare skin with the motion.

This relationship was little more than a silent agreement without definition. Still, it remained a mutual understanding that he wished never to see the end of. Battling his own inner demons which seemed to be more active since the last attack on his company he tried to ignore a desire to risk it all and do something stupid. She returned from the door after a brief exchange carrying two glasses, a dry martini for him and a bright yellow concoction in a small tumbler. A ball of ice that almost filled the container with a spiral of lemon peel rested in the yellow liquid. Gold Rush? She remembered. Carana took a perch at his side which made the small frown to his face deepen slightly.

“Something wrong?” He didn’t miss the teasing tone she had. Only She would dare do this to him right now.

“You know exactly what is wrong. Are you trying to torment me?” Nobunaga took the glasses from her hands a little forcefully. Placing them on the table nearest them and dragged her body onto his lap. “There much better.”

“You are a terrible man.” Carana giggled and playfully slapped his arm.

“You love it.” He tightened his grip around her waist drawing her closer to him, a knowing smile creeping over his face as he watched her willingly submit to him and bury her head in his shoulder.

“Perhaps…” Her breath on his collar was reigniting that feeling he had as he watched her on stage. “So, what did you want? I have no information to sell.” Carana asked. Her smokey grey French tipped nails were drawing circles on his chest through his shirt, tracing the line of his waistcoat seductively. She knows what I am here for. The woman is just a damn tease. God’s help me if I haven’t already succumbed to her siren song long ago.

“Sing for me.” Nobunaga commanded brushing his lips to her temple allowing her the ability to move in his arms.

“What song?” Carana inclined her head. Nobunaga only usually asked for her to sing when he was feeling particularly pressured. She had learnt that small fact over the years and sometimes wondered if it was a piece of information only she knew. Something shared just between the two of them, joining them in some way. Secretly hoping that to be the case she allowed herself to cherish that small flutter in her chest knowing she could not speak a word of how she truly felt.

“Anything, just sing for me and only me for a time.” Nobunaga brushed some of her loose hair behind her ear. His red eyes looking at her, pleading with her.

At his insistence, Carana started to sing. The melody began softly, just slightly above a hum. As the lyrics began, he could feel her diaphragm expand and contract against the arm he still had around her waist as she balanced her breathing with vocalisation in the song. He was not focusing on the words as he melted into the sensuous rhythm of her voice.

Unlike when she was performing on the stage she was now within his reach. The emotions she was stirring in him, the sense of time he felt evaporating in those beautifully crisp notes. All of that was literally within his arms right now. He had everything he wanted in this one small fraction of time. Something completely selfish, that was of no benefit to anyone but himself. This was the dream woven in melody he allowed her to cast on him. The delicious poison of her voice seeping into his body that he willingly accepted. Who would have thought the Devil King’s weakness would be held in a single song?

Nobunaga leant forward gently teasing his teeth against her ear lobe. Small nips into that soft tanned skin, trailing his lips to the pulse point in her neck taking an exaggerated breath to fill his lungs with the smell of her. That Rose scented shampoo she always used reminding him of that garden he wanted to take her back to but had somehow never found the time. The more she sang the more things it stirred inside him. His hands were moving, his palms were brushing along the contours of her body as he felt the warmth of her against him.

“I can’t sing if you do that Nobunaga.” Carana half-heartedly protested eliciting a deep raspy chuckle from him.

“Oh? I think I can still hear a song.” Nobunaga’s eyes flashed with mischief as he pulled on the shoulder strap of her green silk dress drawing the edge of his tongue alone her exposed collar bone, nipping the very edge of it near the pendant on her neck.

“Il Diavolo! [2]” She cried out swivelling on his lap to face him. Her hands planted on his shoulders giving just enough force to push him back slightly but providing such little resistance against him that he couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m not hearing any objections il mio uccellino. [3]” Nobunaga walked his fingers up her back tracing each of her vertebrae, relishing the twitch of her body against his hand. You know you want this as much as I do Carana. All you have to do is feel me. Be mine.

“And you never will. At least not from me.”

---

[1] My Favourite Man [2] You Devil! [3] My Little Bird

Artwork by me. Please don’t copy without permission.

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justonemun · 6 years ago

Note

I don't remember if you answered a question similar to this before but how differently did the main trio act in the pilot compared to the main series? and if the teachers get more than just a cameo, how do you think they'll behave?

I’ve danced around the subject in a few asks, but never really stated it directly. My response is sort of a blend of hard evidence we see in the series and interpretations drawn from that info, so there’s a bit of headcanon woven in, though I try to keep it minimal.

Something possessed me to write an essay on this so the rest is under the cut:

We’ll start with Yellow.

For the most part in the YouTube series he sticks to the script of what’s happening and when he does resist a Teacher it’s mild. We see this in episode 5 the most: Spinach asks him if he’s hungry and replies with “no”, despite saying so he continues to be pretty complacent for the rest of the song in contrast to Duck. Other than this, he’s usually down with what teachers have to say and will participate in the lesson. He follows Shrignold with little persuasion, and is quick to take to the Digital world in episode 4. Yellow is also inquisitive, we see this in just about every episode. In 1, he asks Sketch how they get ideas, 2: if time is even real, 4: about his digital self being real, 6: questioning Tony’s sudden re-appearance. And these are the scenarios I could remember off the top of my head. I’m sure there are more instances of Yellow’s curiosity other than this.

We see Yellow starting to change come episode 5. He responds to Spinach’s question of “are you hungry?” with a no, but continues to follow the lesson. Episode 6 shows a pretty drastic change. He’s missing Duck and Red, and is so uninterested in Lamp’s lesson that he’ll actually touch Lamp to turn the light out, attempt to ignore him, then interrupt throughout the lesson to try to stop it. He no longer asks questions or joins the lesson. As the rest of the teachers start glitching into his bedroom, he’ll go so far to accuse Tony of killing him, and plead to “make it stop”. This makes me wonder if he knows about the Control Panel, but that’s an essay for another day.

(Purely headcanon here, but I think Yellow’s growing unease is a pretty strong argument for episode 6 being canon in the TV universe: Yellow is not interested in following the Key or the Milk’s attempts to get him to stop trying to fight against Duck’s brainwashing with illegal activity/violence. An earlier version of Yellow would have been far more complacent in the Pilot.)

Looking at Yellow objectively in the Pilot, he’s pretty self centered. He appears to care most about it being his birthday and will take measures to stop Duck through graffiti or going into the mayor’s office once Duck has become integrated into the security system. Despite this, it is still personally driven in motivation as all of this is done in an attempt to secure a celebration for his birthday. He mostly ignores or is indifferent to the Key’s song (though it appeared to be mostly targeted at Duck). While listening to the Milk Jug at first, he soon goes against the Teacher’s wishes of rebelling. Yellow also pushes the Milk Jug after getting fed up with him in the Mayor’s Office–We’ve seen this rebellious nature before in episode 6. I believe this is the second time Yellow has gotten physically angry at a Teacher aside from turning the Lamp off. This stood out to me. He’s become much more independent from the Teachers. This might just be the product of him having a goal to meet (having his birthday party) or indicative of character growth. Or both. That’s up to interpretation, though.

Okay, now Red.

Red appears mostly passive throughout the YouTube series. He doesn’t offer a ton of plot advancement until episode 4. He is mostly indifferent or at the most extreme, annoyed by the presence of Teachers, but he is the one to try to prompt a lesson from the Gilbert in episode 4, so I’m really not sure about his final position on the Teachers? Red is also by far the one who “looks into the camera like it’s the office” out of the 3 main puppets. (This could suggest he knows about the fourth wall, or hint at his escape in episode 6, though that is my take on the behavior)

His indifference changes across the episodes to something more like impatience or frustration. In episode 1 he may as well be an extra, 2: he questions Tony’s appearance, and mentions that him and the others are not interested in learning. He takes more of a backseat in 3, though decides with Duck not to go looking for Yellow after seeing him “flying through the sky”. 4 sees Red trying to stop the lesson at least twice: the first before being taken into the digital world as Colin is questioning the three, and the second time as the three are seemingly caught in the loop of digital dancing, graphs, and style. This guides Red to a white room not before seen in the house with an actor in a morphsuit, a crude puppet of Yellow, a duck, and a box of oats that appears to be a teacher. I think this scene is ambiguous on purpose, but looking at it from the surface does offer connection to the pilot (more on this soon). Finally, Red in the ‘real world’ as seen in episode 6 remembers his time in the house, at least the first lesson with Sketchbook, as he performs their song. This contributes to the continuity of the series staying intact.

Red in the pilot is very aware of his surroundings. He seems to follow the most “realistic” approach to the issue of the mayor going missing (as opposed to roundabout solutions of appointing a new mayor or finding someone to sing his part of the song). He finds clues to the mayor’s disappearance and eventually finds him himself. Red also grows annoyed with the Key and goes to follow his own solution to the mystery, similar to how he abandoned Colin’s lesson. We’ve seen this independent problem solving before in episode 6–Red attempts to use the control panel to aid Yellow and when that doesn’t work, ends up pulling the plug on the device. (Though I also wonder why Roy wouldn’t just kick Red out of the place and not let him pull the plug… Again, an essay for another time.)

Now let’s talk about parallel universes. Red is transported (or somehow inadvertently transfers himself) to another plane/universe/etc in the pilot after arguing that Mayor Pigface’s forest living fantasy isn’t realistic. This is in line with Red’s growing deviance from lessons and frustrations with those who will not listen to what he has to say. His head did not explode this time like it did in episode 4, though, and I saw no reference to Yellow or Duck. Part of me thinks this may be a callback to the scene at the end of episode 4 as a way to tie in a running conflict, though we can’t be sure of this until more episodes release. Either way, Red has traversed several realities throughout the series.

Red is a bit harder to track than the rest of the characters. His character is enigmatic in that it plays with the fourth wall (all while somehow managing to respect it?) in ways I haven’t seen before. He’s become much more involved than the sort of passive apathy that we see in the early episodes of the YouTube series, though a motivation for his involvement is still unclear. Ultimately, Red has grown involved and inquisitive in ways that may put him or others in danger.

And Duck

(This is a bit more speculative than the other characters. I have a hard time pinning down his character, especially from the changes in the pilot)

Duck appears as a methodical, logical character in the YouTube Series. He goes by the books (or what he thinks they say), and it is his way or the high way when interacting with him. He shows a bit of his stubborn character even in episode 1, where he replies to Sketch’s question about the orange with “it’s just a boring old orange!”. In episode 2, Red comments that the show will be on soon, followed by Duck asserting that they don’t have enough time. 3 sees Duck preferring to finish the picnic he’d made as opposed to finding Yellow. In 4 he’s quick to argue with Yellow about his incorrect answers to the game they’re playing. He also goes along with the rules in the Digital World once they’re there, choosing to participate in style instead of spectating like the others. When Red disappears in episode 5, Duck does not play along with the lesson. He continuously mentions that “something’s wrong”. His brief appearance in 6 also has him questioning his sudden appearance.

Pilot Duck seemed a bit off to me, it’s because he’s much less logical and critical of his environment than he is in the youtube series. He goes right along with Key’s lesson and ‘guidance’ as he has done in previous lessons, but does little to question it. When he does question, Key must adapt and find some way to stop Duck from suspecting anything more. All of these attempts were successful. While I understand that the plot needed to advance the way it did in the pilot, forcing Duck to be more complacent than usual was noticeable to me. Paranoia was another large addition to his character that did not appear in the youtube series. Episode 5 sees Duck having his entrails eaten without so much as a peep while in the pilot he has a breakdown over the thought of townspeople talking down on him.

If we go by assuming continuity, something may have happened to Duck in episode 5-6 to cause this change. While we see where Red went (the ‘real world’) and see how this could have affected his character development, we don’t have a lot to go off of for Duck. Another way to look at this change in character could simply be seen as his adherence to rules starting to turn to neuroticism--as we see him distraught in episode 5 over something being wrong.

Ultimately, I think we need to see more of Duck in future episodes to fully see how his character has changed, as he spends a majority of the pilot being manipulated by the Key.

As for the rest of the teachers:

These will be my own thoughts. There’s not a lot to go off of in the pilot!

The teachers don’t have a lot of roundness to their characters. They exist to sing, harass the students, and return to their resting states. When we see them for a second time around in episode 6, they act the same as they did in their debut episodes. That being said, we could extrapolate a personality for them through what we’ve seen so far:

Sketch: Sketch would probably be more polite than we’ve seen her, possibly even a bit bashful? She asks the students about what they’re leaning and if they want to participate in the lesson instead of dragging them along. She doesn’t seem too quick to anger when the students aren’t invested, unlike Tony or Key. Sketch jumps around in her lesson a lot too. When one thing isn’t connecting with the students, she switches to something else on a dime, so I think this could lend to her being a bit unpredictable at times. Think more like Howdy from The Puppets. She’s energetic and random, and doesn’t have much of a temper (though she can be stubborn when things aren’t going her way!)

Tony: Tony would probably come off as a bit of a know-it-all, but not the same flavor of Colin’s narcissism. He gets so upset with the students questioning his lesson that he appears to use a bit of his “powers/abilities” on them, so his temper would be short. He’d likely fall under the “grumpy old man trope” so maybe a little bit like Grady? That being said, Tony does get pretty excited when he talks about time so he’s not a character to remain emotionally flat.

Shrignold: there’s something to be said about the fact that he’s a butterfly. I’m trying to look at what the teachers would act like in a case where they weren’t teaching and Shrignold is a little hard to grasp because everything he does is related to the cult, save for a few moments during his song where he displays a bit more of his underlying personality. Shrignold is a social butterfly. He’d know everyone in town, especially what the gossip is. Shrignold is also patient in his song when Yellow doesn’t understand what love is, or when he’s trying to fit in with the rest of the group. I think I’d like to see Shrig’s character expanded upon most. For some reason, I find him the most difficult to characterize on the askblog.

Colin: I rewatched Episode 4 quite a few times to do the “look into the camera” chart so I have a lot of thoughts about him. The first thing that came to my mind is Colin’s aversion to touch being used for comic relief. That just feels like a no brainer if he were to return. Colin shows no real ill intent towards the Students in his episode. He’s inquisitive of what their habits are like, and is eager to show them to the digital world. This could either lend to him offering the Students completely backwards advice (though I don’t think his misinfo would be intentional) when they try to research something using him or possibly he’d try to fit into their antics in Clayhill and end up getting left behind or confused. He does seem to be one to follow his own rules and nobody else’s, so something he doesn’t expect would likely fluster him a great deal.

Healthy Band: I’m firmly in the camp that Healthy Band just has no idea what they’re saying in their lesson. Surprisingly enough they’re the only ones to reference actual ways to practice their subject (choosing foods that are plain vs fancy) but are completely backwards and often conflict themselves. In this way I think they’d make great return characters for the show: they’d think they have a clue as to what’s happening and offer completely wrong advice in response. They’d really try to be a resource for the students, but every time would backfire spectacularly. And the monster cans would just be the teachers that live in the pantry that you try not to make eye contact with when you need to get sugar for your tea in the mornings.

Lamp: Lamp is an agent of chaos. I don’t think he really had any structure for his lesson and just kinda went for it. He doesn’t listen to Yellow at all and continues his song even when Yellow’s completely checked out. He’d be the character who’s either acutely aware of what’s going on in Clayhill (and nobody listens to him) or who has absolutely no idea what’s happening even if the scenario is borderline apocalyptic. Either way, he’d take nothing seriously.

#ITS DONE #TAKE IT #dhmis #headcanons #mun answers #dhmis spoilers #ive revised this so many times #longpost

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ausllygo1direction · 5 years ago

Text

Instrument of Darkness

So I’ve decided that I’m going to use my tumblr to kind of promote some of my fanfiction. For those who aren’t aware, I’m Austin And Ally Go 1 Direction on fanfiction.net, and AAG1D on AO3.

The following bits are some excerpts from my latest fanfiction which was set in the Star Wars universe but with the Sherlock characters. It was originally meant to be a short 8,000 word Sherlolly fluff one-shot, but the Sherlolly fluff dies pretty quick (It still ends with Sherlolly, but the story was kidnapped by a plot-line so the fluff got thrown out the window), and in the end it turned into an 80,000 word three-shot monstrosity of epic proportions. I don’t know if anyone would be interested in checking it out, but if you like the following excerpts I’ll place the link to the story at the end so that you can go read the whole thing :)

Without further ado, I give you some bits of Instrument of Darkness.

///

The wind whipped harshly across the planes of the desert, sand scrapping unforgivingly against the weather-worn figure that stood amongst the nothingness. The lean body was wrapped in scraps of beige fabric and nearly blended perfectly in with the environment. It was only the shock of dark hair and the crudely made staff that contrasted the figure with the dunes of Jakku.

It didn’t matter though. Sherlock Holmes was always out of place in the desert.

Why he had been abandoned as a child on such a wretched planet was beyond him. The desert had hardened any soft edges he had once had, and the physical demands of survival were more than evident in the leanness of his form and the callouses on his hands.

Sometimes he wondered what he had done in a previous life in order to have been dealt such a cruel fate. A life as a scrapper was barely a life at all, and the endless sand had washed Sherlock’s mind of any good memory he might’ve had as a child.

The only thing he could remember was Molly.

The name was his only constant companion in his solitary, and the image of a face that time seemed unable to erase. The edges were blurred almost as though something had tried to rid him of the memory-

A sharp pain caused Sherlock to grit his teeth and close his eyes against the harshness of the sun, seeking a reprieve to the headache that flared up when he reflected too much on the emptiness of his mind. There was something missing, but he didn’t know why.

His only hope seemed to lie in this Molly woman.

For as long as he could remember, his only goal in his meager existence was to get off the back-water planet he had the misfortune of calling home, and search for the woman he was sure held the answers to his questions. The name itself brought a wave of incredible longing to the forefront of Sherlock’s mind, and he was certain that he loved-

Another burst of pain. This one caused a grunt to break the stillness of the desert.

Putting his musings aside, Sherlock carefully unclasped his water skin, before allowing himself to enjoy a few refreshing drops of the too-little supply of water. They did little but coat the grittiness of his tongue, but Sherlock knew better than to indulge in any more. Refreshed as he was ever going to be, he resumed his trek across the barren wasteland.

There were too many holes in his memory to truly understand his past. Thus, it only made sense to try and move forward. He had a plan. Get off Jakku. Find this Molly. And then hopefully the rest would come with time.

But for now, to focus on the present.

Besides, the smoking wreck up ahead looked promising.

///

JN-1871 was not having a good day.

On top of breaking some rebel pilot out of prison, commandeering a ship to escape the only hellhole he had ever known, and then having said escape plan go marvellously to hell, he also had somehow managed to crash land on Jakku.

To top it all off, he wasn’t used to being in harsh environments without the protection of his Stormtrooper armour, and he could just feel his skin beginning to burn.

Life was just peachy.

At first, his plan seemed foolproof. Break the pilot out of prison, steal a ship, use said pilot to fly said ship, and finally be free from the hell known as the First Order. It was a stellar plan.

Except for the variables he hadn’t factored in.

Variable one: The pilot was a cheeky tosser. Mary Morstan, as she introduced herself as, did not take orders and apparently had a sense of sass that outweighed her sense of self-preservation. By the time that they had finally gotten to the ship, JN-1871 was already wishing that he had left her in Kylo Ren’s interrogation chamber if only to have saved himself a headache.

Then there was variable two: The First Order wasn’t exactly, well… you know, pleased with his escape attempt with their Resistance prisoner. Hence resulting in a red alert being signalled before they had even reached the bloody ship.

He really, really hated shooting.

Especially when he was on the active end of the barrel.

By the time that the (ex)Stormtrooper and (ex)prisoner had made it to the TIE fighter all hell had broken loose, and Mary had jabbed several buttons on the control panel before shoving something into JN-1871’s hand and shouting “I’ll distract them. If I don’t make it you need to go to Jakku and get my droid. It has the map that Lady Smallwood needs.”

“What- wait! I don’t have a bloody clue how to fly this thing! That’s why I broke you out in the first place!” JN-1871 protested from where he had been all but shoved into the pilot’s seat.

Mary rolled her eyes as she continued punching buttons and yanking on wires. “I’ve enabled autopilot and set the coordinates for Jakku. I’ll keep anyone off your tail.” With that the lights for the ship flicked on and the hum jolted JN-1871’s bones. The pilot flashed the (ex)Stormtrooper a cheeky smirk. “See you on the other side.”

“No- wait!” It was too late – before JN-1871 could so much as move the top of the fighter closed and Mary was running towards the next TIE fighter, JN-1871’s gun going off in her hands (When did she get that?). The (ex)Stormtrooper barely had time to click his seatbelt on before the ship was whooshing out of the corridor, blasters going off behind him.

The rest had been a blur (And admittedly his eyes had been shut for, like, ninety-five percent of it). There were explosions. He was vaguely aware of another TIE fighter following his that seemed to keep the enemy fire at bay, until something went wrong, there was a blast of fire, the looming yellowness of Jakku, and enough tumbling to make JN-1871 puke more than enough for an entire lifetime.

At some point his seat must’ve ejected, and then, pain, and death, and oh my goodness he had just wanted a quiet retirement.

He had woken up to a mouthful of sand, an unforgiving sun burn, and the scattered remains of the fighter littered around him.

His mind was in a numb state of shock as he watched the bulk of the wreck begin to disappear beneath the sand.

He was stranded.

On Jakku.

JN-1871 wanted to cry. Not only did every single part of his body ache, but he was now also a fugitive of the First Order and was stuck on a planet that was uncomfortably close to the Finalizer.

His eyes travelled down to the odd thing still clutched in his hand.

It was a scarf. Specifically, the Resistance pilot’s scarf that she had shoved into his possession before running off. He wasn’t sure why she had given it to him – perhaps it was a way to find the droid she had mentioned? His head hurt, and it wasn’t just from thinking about his predicament.

Perhaps the droid was his way off the planet. Yes. The pilot had thought he was with the Resistance anyways, and perhaps if he got the droid to this Lady Smallwood they’d offer him amnesty. Besides, the pilot made this map thing sound important, right? So it was almost guaranteed that they’d bargain for it.

New plan in mind, JN-1871 turned his back to the wreckage.

Time to find a droid and a way off this back-water planet.

///

On the whole, Mary Morstan was a fairly adaptable person. She had to be – as a pilot for the Resistance it might as well have been a job requirement. In all her years of service, she had been in her fair share of sticky situations and had seen more than enough trouble for a lifetime.

There was a reason she was so cocky.

And yet out of everything that she had seen and done, getting captured by the First Order and being personally interrogated by Kylo Ren certainly took the cake – and the wind out of her sails.

That said, if anything was able to raise her spirits it was the sight of a specific YT-1300. Even if it wasn’t being manned by its original owner, the ship and its cargo were the best thing that the pilot had seen all week.

“What- Mary?!”

Offering a slightly sarcastic salute with her good arm, Mary took that as an invitation to waltz further towards the duo. “Hello boys.”

Although the ‘Trooper she had escaped with had lowered his pistol (Mary had to hold back a snort – he hadn’t been fooling anybody with his whole Resistance impersonation), the tall stranger only tightened his grip on his staff, eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?”

Mary eyed his fighting posture warily. Despite all her bravado she was in no condition for a fight, and the other man knew it. Thankfully, the ‘Trooper responded for her.

“It’s alright, Sherlock. She’s Redbeard’s pilot.”

Mary’s eyebrows hitched at the name. “Did you name my droid while I was gone?”

The other man – Sherlock – finally lowered his weapon, though he managed a somewhat haughty sniff. “I wasn’t going to call him a sequence of letters.”

She rolled her eyes. Mary had a feeling that she would be doing that a lot around these two. “Where is he?”

The ‘Trooper took over once again, turning to head back down the hall. Mary stayed close to his heels, overtly aware of how Sherlock’s eyes followed her every move – and not in the good sort of way.

“He’s up in the droid port piloting the ship. We ran into a snare, hence why we’re currently out of motion. Sherlock was fixing the wiring when you showed up.”

Mary made a humming noise of acknowledgement in the back of her throat. “I take it that means you haven’t had the map delivered to Lady Smallwood yet.”

The ‘Trooper shrugged awkwardly. “The coordinates are set for D’Qar, we just need to recalibrate the-”

“Nevermind D’Qar,” Mary asserted, slipping into the vacant pilot’s chair and ignoring Sherlock noise of protest as her fingers began flying over the wires. “We have a new destination. The map can wait; There’s some more pressing issues at hand.”

It was only the weight of something very solid suddenly upon her collarbone that caused Mary’s fingers to freeze their musings. The ‘Trooper’s sudden protests were lost to her as her senses directed solely at their current danger.

Sherlock stood menacingly beside them, his staff held dangerously against her chest. Any sudden weight, and Mary was certain that he could snap several of her bones without even batting an eye. There was something in his eyes, a kind of… madness that made Mary’s flesh crawl. The ‘Trooper was still going off the rails.

“…Sithspit Sherlock, she’s on our side!”

Sherlock didn’t pay him any heed, his eyes still trained dangerously on Mary. Finally, his baritone cut off the ‘Trooper’s ramblings.

“I was told we were going to D’Qar where I would be given transport to go my own way. I am not interested in taking a detour.”

Mary raised her hands, and turned slowly so she could face him better, though her own eyes were narrowed. “Well, if we don’t get to Sector 7G pronto, there may not be much of a galaxy left for you to fly through.”

The staff didn’t move.

“What are you talking about?”

“A weapon,” Mary was irked at sharing the information with someone with an obviously different agenda from the Resistance, but the weight on her collarbone hadn’t left her with many options. “The First Order has designed a weapon that they call Starkiller Base, and it doesn’t just take out a single planet, it can take out an entire system. If we don’t get over there and sabotage it now, we might not get another chance before half of the galaxy’s gone.”

A moment of stillness as her words sunk in. Then:

“Sherlock if that’s true then searching for this Molly person would be pointless. She could be dead before we’re even to D’Qar.”

Mary’s ears perked at the information, but she was more intrigued by how Sherlock responded to it, his eyes hardening in resignation while his mouth twisted in dislike. After a moment’s more of silence, the metal was finally removed.

Sherlock didn’t look any less defensive.

“Fine. We go to this Starkiller Base” He said the name derisively, and Mary couldn’t blame him, “And destroy it before it can inadvertently kill Molly. And then I expect to be transported somewhere and given a ship and the supplies needed for my search as thanks for saving the galaxy.”

Sherlock’s eyes darted between the other two people dangerously, as though daring them to contest his statement.

Neither did.

Giving a sharp nod of his head, the strange man spun on his heel and disappeared down the corridor. The ‘Trooper gave her a half-muttered apology, before dashing after the errant man who had threatened her life just a moment before.

Within a breath Mary Morstan was left alone with the circuit board, still trying to process what was happening. She blinked, before a scowl marred her pretty features.

“So I’ll just fix the ship myself then, shall I?” She shouted into the empty space.

Unsurprisingly, nothing shouted back.

///

Destiny could be a funny thing.

Some people felt that it was set in stone, that once a future was determined it couldn’t be changed. Others felt that while the future wasn’t exact, the fundamental attributes of a person would always result in them making the same choices, leading to an inevitable destiny.

Sherlock thought that destiny was garbage.

And that the Force was too.

He remembered waking up to ash. Pain had coursed through his brittle flesh that had been all the wrong colours in all the wrong places, and his lungs had seized at the filthy air around him. He had tried calling for help, for his parents, for Myc, but his body couldn’t take the sudden movement, and instead he found himself curling up in the ash and soot, sobbing silently as the world passed on in silence.

That was how Lestrade had found him. Broken, and helpless, and covered head to toe in fiercely angry burns and black, black ash.

If he had believed in destiny, he might’ve even said that the state in which Lestrade had found him in had foreshadowed that which he would become.

Destiny was bantha fodder though, so Sherlock dismissed the thought.

For a while, though, it was near impossible to believe otherwise. The darkness had simply been so all encompassing that Sherlock struggled to keep afloat. The other Masters and students had been rightly terrified of him, and more than once Sherlock had overheard stray thoughts throughout the Force, wondering when he would be lost to the darkness for good.

For a while, Sherlock had felt that he had no other option other than to forever be entrenched in the darkness. He was a monster, an abomination, a sithspawn, and he had lost any hope he might’ve once harboured.

After all, when everyone else fears the darkness within you, it hardly seems polite to disagree.

Then, he had met Molly and everything changed.

For the first time in his life, he had felt like he could be good. That perhaps he wasn’t destined for a future drowning in darkness.

His mistake, however, was in thinking that he could learn to swim.

For although he tried, the darkness never left. And although he went through the motions, he never truly could be a Jedi.

After all, he had all but thrown himself at the darkness in order to save Molly.

Now, as he traversed the uneven ground with the bitter breeze threatening to blow his hood off, Sherlock still didn’t give destiny any credit. After all, what had it done for him? But he did have to admit that if it did exist it clearly had an ironic sense of humour.

Why else would Sherlock be on his way to find the one person who had betrayed him when it was most important? The one person who could hopefully save the galaxy and answer some very pressing questions. The one person who had found him over twenty years prior.

Yes, Sherlock Holmes didn’t believe in destiny.

But destiny believed in him.

And that was why he was always meant for the darkness.

Because destiny knew that he could also be more.

///

In the throne room, Sherlock was doing very, very badly.

With his attention split between the fight and his Force Bond with Molly, he didn’t stand a fighting chance on his own. Molly had momentarily stepped back in her attacks as the two Praetorian Guards kept him busy, but if he didn’t figure out how to get through to her soon, his momentary relief would not last long.

In the end, it was his own stubbornness that did him in.

Mentally chanting that he was strong enough to keep up with the attacks despite the fact that he most certainly was not, Sherlock didn’t have the energy to pay attention to his form. As a result, his right elbow clumsily was left out of position at the tail end of one of his blocks, causing a solid hit to the arm from one of the guards to loosen his hold on his saber.

In the next moment, the blue was extinguished and Sherlock’s lightsaber went clattering to the ground, stopping next to the ugly throne where the Supreme Leader was watching the events unfold with an unsettling grin.

Weaponless, Sherlock barely managed to duck in time, the vibro-voulge of one of the guards skimming too close to his head for comfort.

Panicking, his body went on Jakku survival mode as his foot swung out to catch the guard closest to him, sending him to the ground.

Somewhere in his head, the Jedi part of him was shouting to use the Force to reach for his weapon.

But a much larger part that had witnessed first hand dirty fights in old wrecks of starships was muddling any useful thoughts. He grabbed the vibro-voulge of the fallen guard, the shape familiar enough to his staff that the Scavenger part of him was able to relax slightly in ease.

It lasted about a half a heartbeat before he was bringing the voulge up to block the oncoming attack of the other guard.

Which was, of course, when Molly had to join the onslaught as well.

In his haste to stop the lightsaber from separating the top half of his body from the bottom, he forgot about the body of the fallen guard, and his foot went out from under him. His eyes widened and his breath got caught in his throat, but it was like he was a child again and unable to control the Force.

He hit the ground hard, vision slightly blurry.

It was mere reflex that had him bringing the voulge up to block the lunge of the guard. He blocked each attempted swing desperately, his grip on his temporary weapon weakened due to the awkward position and constant assaults.

His head lolled to the side slightly, and his eyes caught on the handle of his saber.

Trying to fight down the panic, trying to regain some semblance of control, Sherlock reached his hand out.

He was a dead man if he couldn’t rely on the Force.

Please.

The handle twitched and the blade went flying.

…Right past Sherlock’s hand, and into Lestrade’s waiting one.

///

John and Mary were panicking.

Read: Mostly John was panicking.

It had been over five minutes and they were still as stumped as they had been before. Mary had taken to reading every single label for the switches (Luckily for them, Stormtroopers were bad at nearly everything, meaning that the labels for each switch was incredibly precise). Unfortunately, however, there was simply such a multitude of switches that she was still nowhere near finishing.

John was in a corner muttering to himself. Up until a minute before he had been reading the labels too, but then he suddenly stopped without explanation and took up an almost trance-like murmuring about the plan.

Mary was getting fed up with the useless play-by-play.

“This would go a lot quicker if you helped, you know.”

John blinked owlishly at her. Her vocal intrusion seemed to finally break him of whatever spell he was under, but then he opened his mouth and hollowly said something that Mary never expected to hear.

“I think Sherlock’s dead.”

Mary froze, the words on her label suddenly spinning. Then her head snapped towards John with horrified precision. “What?”

John gulped, a shaking hand coming up to card through his hair. “The, uh, Force, thing. It- it-” He shook his head in an attempt to gain control of his actions. “Someone powerful and important just died. It was as though the Force cried out for a moment before settling. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Mary fought to keep control of her own panic. “But we don’t necessarily know that it was Sherlock. Couldn’t it have been the Supreme Leader?” She reasoned. “He’s also powerful.”

But John merely shook his head. “They were good in life. Otherwise the Force wouldn’t have acted as it did. I don’t know how I know that, but I just do.”

The weight of his words was crushing, and Mary felt as though the room they were in had just shrunk several feet. “If he’s dead… then we’ve failed. The Supreme Leader lives.”

But John was already spiralling into grief, his having said his fears aloud allowing them to solidify into as good as reality in his mind.

“He was my best friend,” His eyes were distant, ears unhearing. “I didn’t know him that long, but he was my best friend. And now he’s gone.”

Mary was having none of it though, her grief doing the opposite and surging through her with new-found determination. She stepped forward and grabbed John’s shoulders, giving his loose frame a good shake to snap him out of it.

“Listen to me,” Her voice was steady, for which she was grateful. “Perhaps he is dead, okay? But that doesn’t mean that we are. Not yet, at least. And I can bet every last unit I have that he wouldn’t want us to give up now, you hear me? I believed in Sherlock Holmes,” Here her voice did crack, ever so slightly, “And now, we must live for Sherlock Holmes. You understand?”

Despite the haze that settled behind his eyes, John nodded ever so slowly.

“Good,” Her bravado was slowly slipping away, so she turned around so that John wouldn’t see. “Now let’s get back to work.”

///

A/N: Okay, so a lot of that doesn’t make sense because I had to cut a lot to avoid spoilers, haha. But if you want to read more (With a much more cohesive plot, I promise) please check out the full story. It’s set post-original trilogy, and basically follows Sherlock from age 7 till age 27. The first chapter is completely set at the Academy, with the second and third being set within two weeks of TFA and TLJ timelines. Hope you guys enjoy!

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282052/chapters/38077163

ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13078770/1/Instrument-of-Darkness

-AAG1D

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legendarylani · 6 years ago

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I was looking out this small barred window as the room full of 6th graders went up in flames around me. Kids were everywhere doing what the fuck the wanted to do. I couldn’t be mad. The way they were acting was wild as fuck but I could understand it. I refocused back on the room and leaned back in my chair to really take the whole thing in. I had been working with this class for 2 weeks and it was my last day. The shit was so crazy that one of the students who always did his work with me at my desk said, “Ms. Do something. You’re too calm. Start yelling at them!” I just shook my head, “And what would that solve? Did you learn something today?” He said, “Yes.” I said, “You really want to learn. You will always find a way. You are smart. You can read. Keep reading. Everything. That’s going to take you far. You do what you have to do. You will be fine. They do what they want to do. People without the ability to discipline themselves will always be wild. You will be fine. Just sit back and watch the show.” He pulled up his chair and we sat and watched them go crazy. All day I pulled my babies to the side and dropped little jewels to them.

See. This week I been grinding so different. Just the little taste and sample size of the grind released so much anxiety off of me. Over Christmas break I had to separate my energy and focus between self and family. It broke me. Holiday season really fucking broke me. I’m forever grateful. I was stripped. Since January turned I’ve been scarce. My attention has been undivided. Sunday I have a family obligation and I’m about to make it my last official one for the foreseeable future. As I sat in that chair watched a different class act their own particular type of crazy I got to talk to one of my favorites. A quiet little girl. Middle child. Smart as hell. We locked eyes as the class did their thing and I nodded for her to come to my desk. “You not going to be able to hide forever. You are extremely smart and think just because you are quiet you will be able to blend in. For the most part you will be able to, but there will be times where you will have to go out and get what’s yours. You going to have speak up or else what you need to get will pass you. You hear me?” “I like being quiet.” “You can’t hide your whole life. Just keep you eyes and ears open.” She nodded and went to go sit back down. Another student just walked up to me and asked, “Was this your dream job?” I almost choked on my answer, “Fuck no. I can’t say I’ve ever wanted to have a job. This shit ain’t a dream.” He asked, “Well what do you want to do?” “I just want to see some shit succeed.” He said, “I don’t want to go to school.” I just shrugged because as I looked at the bucket of yellow rain water accumulate from the leaky roof, who could blame him? I’m not Erykah Badu, but...certainly, not me. “I get that but whatever you do keep working on your reading skills and figure out how you are going to make your money out here. Don’t let your environment stop you from growing.”

I was in my mind wondering how to make the little pennies I got from the sub shit stretch when I decided that I didn’t need to. I was stripped. Why try and put tattered pieces of rags back together when I can just go get fresh fabrics and create something more suited for me? I sat in the chair and watched the third class go their particular type of ape shit. I didn’t really care for any kid in this class so I was in my phone. I saw a sub job from my old school go up and in the time it took me to click the link to try and grab the job, someone had applied for it. I just laughed and looked at some instacart stats and crunch some numbers and planned ways to become more efficient because I figured I could match my income doing just that. Then I opened my postmates app and saw how much I made during my trial run. We got out early on Monday and I drove around for postmates for a few hours before I went home. The tips were coming in. I started mapping morning routes that I wanted to try to get breakfast hour deliveries. A morning in traffic with other people’s food in my car sounded a lot better than starting my morning being responsible for their raggedy ass kids. My attention was averted away from my phone by the intense smell of mildewing carpet because one of them fuck ass kids decided to turn on the heater in the room. I walked over to the heater and turned it off. I didn’t say shit. I was tired of saying shit to that class. I just focused on the monitor to make sure no one touched it. “Ms. I know who did...” “Aye. I don’t care. At 11:05 I’m going to pull out that parking lot and never sub another class again. Yall can do what yall want bro.”

I had one more 45 minute period left. The TA took my favorite kids out of the room because she wanted them focus. I ain’t really like the kids that where left with me either so I focused on the window. My cousin told me about a man who was imprisoned and he told her the only thing that kept him going was when a prisoner on his way out told him to, “to get you a window.” I focused on that barred window for the better part of 30 minutes. My favorites came back in and saw how crazy the class was and came to sit next to me. It was three little boys and they each had suggestions for me to get the class to stop. “Let’s say I get the principal. Has she ever gotten them to be quiet?” “Yes.” I asked, “And what happens when she leaves?” “They go crazy again.” “So what’s the point? You see that window? I’m out there. I’m physically here but I don’t care about what’s going on in this room. While you were outside learning, I tried to teach them the same thing you got. They wouldn’t even be quiet long enough to read the first page.” He said, “But Ms. it was so easy!” “I know. You was outside. Always focus on your window.”

I looked down at my phone and saw the text that my cousin was on her way to my house to smoke my broke ass out. I smiled, told them kids to line up, dismissed them to they next class and jetted up out of there. My cousin took me to get some tree and we went to my favorite black owned shop. It’s the only one I go to since I found them. They are expanding and I was offered a job. I just need string together a few more months before the main project I’ve been focused on for years to finally come together. I gotta keep grinding. I have to keep my attention undivided and solely on myself until further notice. I’m going to make sure I check in on my grandparents but outside of them, ain’t too many people about to hear from me. I’m locked in. I’m about to freak the fuck out of this fabric.

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dweemeister · 6 years ago

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The Girl from Yesterday (2017, Vietnam)

In the West, there has been a reevaluation of films featuring teenage stars or the vast high school subgenre. Such examinations have come from ardent fans of those movies, and even the central actor of a number of those films, Molly Ringwald. Yet those movies never traveled to many pockets of the world, where the major American movie studios had yet to stake claims in those untapped markets – whether due to economic and/or political realities. Among those nations is Vietnam, where its (relatively) recent adoption of a “socialist-oriented market economy” left it largely untouched by Western cinema, as the nation’s cinema begins to discover its cinematic identity outside of government-funded features about the heroism of revolution. The subject of this write-up, The Girl from Yesterday, is a product of that filmmaking environment in Vietnam – a piece more inspired by popular contemporary Asian media than that of America.

The Girl from Yesterday is director and co-screenwriter Phan Gia Nhật Linh’s second feature film, adapting author Nguyễn Nhật Ánh’s young adult novel of the same name (another Nguyễn YA novel, Yellow Flowers on the Green Grass, was recently adapted as a film, and was well-received by critics and audiences). The romantic games that its main characters play will be familiar to fans of high school movies – albeit deprived of an overt, invasive sexuality that one often finds in their American counterparts. Colored with a nostalgic lens throughout, this is a gentle romantic comedy not afraid of wackiness, nonsense.

It is 1997 in Central Vietnam. Thư (Ngô Kiến Huy) is in his final year before university, and his failing grades are not the first thing on his mind. He has instantly fallen for the new transfer student, Việt An (Miu Lê), who notices Thư’s affections but dismisses his advances. Her behavior vexes Thư – a rambunctious fellow used to being in control of his friends. As he becomes more unsure on how to approach his new classmate, let alone getting to know her better, Thư increasingly reflects on the first girl he loved. Ten years ago, Thư (Minh Khang as seven-year-old Thư) met next-door neighbor and classmate Tiểu Li (Hà Mi). Initially, their friendship could not be described as one of equals. But as the younger Thư learns how to be a true friend to Tiểu Li, his pride prevents him from expressing how important she is to him. As the film progresses, these flashbacks are cross-cut more frequently with the present day – reflecting Thư’s mental tumult towards Việt An.

Also featured in this film are Việt An’s friends Chiêu Minh (Lê Hạ Anh) and Hồng Hoa (Hoàng Yến Chibi); Thư’s best friend, Hải (Jun Phạm); and teachers Hường (Lan Phương), Hinh (Tiểu Bảo Quốc), and Lực (Tùng Min).

One constant problem throughout the narrative is its committal to using late 1990s Vietnam as a backdrop. The film – from its production design, costume design, and even the screenplay itself – looks nothing like that period in Vietnamese history. Decades of ostracism from the international community and botched communist economic plans had taken their toll on the populace, rendering Vietnam one of the poorest countries in Asia. Thư, narrating the film, will occasionally mention economic hardships while his family – and all of his classmates’ families – seem to be economically comfortable, or at least are curiously silent about things not having to do with his pursuit of Việt An. Some may argue that financially uncertain times are incompatible with romantic comedies, but there are moments in The Girl from Yesterday that appear to almost pull off this precarious balancing act. The film could use a more versatile blend of comedy, as things become one-note after the half-hour mark.

Too much of The Girl from Yesterday’s hilarity revolves around misunderstanding, Thư’s daydreaming and general immaturity, and his inability to fully explain himself to Việt An, his parents – hell, anyone and everyone. It might even compel you to reach into the screen and shake him violently from the scruff of his neck. Thư’s behavior goes beyond farcical, and his misadventures with Hải may grate the nerves of the less patient. One’s mileage will vary as Thư swings between domineering arrogance (played for laughs, as the older Thư does not mean to intend to be cruel to others) and cartoonish vulnerability in front of Việt An (making Peanuts’ Charlie Brown look like a social butterfly by comparison, because at least he has some semblance of self-control). The Girl from Yesterday is filled with puppy love immaturity, and that never quite grows into something more, leaving it little meaningful to say about Hải and Việt An or their friends surrounding them.

Screenwriters Phan and Nguyễn Thái Hà employs flashbacks to intersperse the storyline to show how Thư, as a child, helps explain Thư, as an adolescent whose post-secondary school plans have been derailed with the arrival of the newest transfer student. The most effective moments occur during the flashbacks themselves, as we see how friendly yet insensitive Thư can be towards his childhood friend, Tiểu Li. Meaningful friends stay friends – no matter their differences, no matter time’s unpredictability. Tiểu Li’s loyalty is admirable, accepting of her friend’s immaturity and deeply forgiving. Perhaps this is unwarranted, setting up Tiểu Li as a force of platonic purity, turning the other cheek every time Thư misbehaves. Not so in this film. Tiểu Li becomes angry some days, but she is not armed with the vocabulary (and probably, given her age, the wisdom) of how friends are supposed to treat the other. As he approaches adulthood, Thư he begun to realize how much Tiểu Li meant to him (and he to her), and how he used her friendship for selfish reasons. These revelations and Thư’s epiphany arrive in the final half-hour, while the film leaves unclear why exactly the flashbacks are a part of The Girl from Yesterday until its climax. It is pure soap, in the manner of populist Asian cinematic and television dramas, but the child performances sell even the most cliched plot points.

For the supposedly teenager actors – as hilarious as they can be – they are much too old to be playing high schoolers. All of them are in their early twenties (a handful are Vietnamese pop music stars by trade, not actors) and though some apologists might point to several teenage-centric/high school films with the characters being played by actors in their thirties, this is still a distraction to an otherwise lighthearted, somewhat contrived romp. An over-dependence of mediocre visual effects and inexplicable placements of those effects override whatever emotions that Nguyen is attempting here. If Phan is unable to convey certain feelings through his images and storytelling, then he will never accomplish those feats by using any sort of animation or visual effects.

A forgettable, sometimes cartoonish original score does little but telegraph what is already happening on-screen. Besides that, pop singer Vũ Cát Tường provides the film’s original title song, benefitting from its moving lyrics. The song is partially hampered by a turn away from the beautiful piano line into a light beat too prevalent in Vietnamese pop music.

Anything related to author Nguyễn Nhật Ánh often translates to financial success in Vietnam, and such was the case with The Girl from Yesterday. It is also reflective of Vietnamese tastes in their domestic cinema – when it comes to romantic storylines, broad humor rather than intense drama (associated with Serious Western Cinema that has made few inroads among Vietnamese audiences) is preferred. A messy screenplay aside, Phan Gia Nhật Linh displays an acute sense of comedic timing and an understanding of how to develop characters within the realm of a comedy. The Girl from Yesterday is not exactly a dramedy, but its ability to summon internal character conflicts from the past displays how much of an individual’s behavior is dictated by how they treated others no longer in their lives. The worst of such behavior can only be addressed, the film says, unless room for introspection is allowed.

My rating: 6/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found here.

NOTE: Parts of this write-up have been adapted from the synopsis that I wrote for the 2018 Viet Film Fest in Orange, California.

#The Girl from Yesterday #Cô gái đến từ hôm qua #Phan Gia Nhật Linh #Miu Lê #Ngô Kiến Huy #Jun Phạm #Hoàng Yến Chibi #Lê Hạ Anh #Hà Mi #Minh Khang #Tiểu Bảo Quốc #Tùng Min #Lan Phương #Nguyễn Nhật Ánh #Nguyễn Thái Hà #Viet Film Fest #2018 Viet Film Fest #My Movie Odyssey

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real-life-pine-tree · 7 years ago

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Rehabilitation: Yuto’s Knightly Transitioning (8/?)

Side effects may include a loss of self-identity and individuality, frequent nightmares, questioning your own existence, severe mental trauma, constant panic attacks, spontaneous crying at random moments, and a strong desire to stay with loved ones at all cost. Co-written with @violetganache42. Takes place between Chapters 6 and 7 of Arc-V Aftermath.

The next morning, after a busy day of the Sakaki-Osaku family attending the Faire, Yugo and Rin moving out of the orphanage, Yuri joining the Duel Academy gardening club, and Celina transferring to Paradise Prep, everything was finally starting to return to normal for the Obsidians, who had spent the past couple days readjusting to their daily lives. It felt like forever since they last did anything at their house prior to the Invasion, so they have been readjusting to whatever they missed on their schedules…besides the haircuts and bath treatments.

At exactly 7am, the robot maids entered the individual rooms of the family members to wake them up. Lulu, on the other hand, woke up to her former nursemaid's voice.

"GOOD MORNING, MISTRESS LULU," Lillybot said. "SHALL I PREPARE YOUR MORNING TEA?"

Lulu sat up in her bed and politely yawned. "Of course," she answered as she got out of bed, ready for her morning shower.

Meanwhile, in the guest bedroom, Yuto was still asleep…and his snores that were coming out of his wide open mouth were quite voluminous. Aside from that, the clothes he usually wears to bed looked untidy, with the bottom of the shirt exposing his lower torso, the left sleeve pulled down to reveal his shoulder, and the sleeves of his sweatpants slightly rolled up. His position made even appeared to have his legs spread out with his knees bent, his right arm over his head as it lies on the bed and the left arm over the edge. It’s also worth noting that the pillows were tossed all over the bed and the blanket was messed up—half-on and half-off the mattress. Speaking of which, it was the most comfortable mattress he has ever slept on. He wasn’t used to these at all, so this might be the best sleep he has ever had.

While Yuto slept, Orbital entered the room and approached the sleeping teen. "GOOD MORNING, MASTER Y-YUTO," the head robo-butler said. "IT IS TIME FOR YOU-"

BONK!

Yuto had used the left arm that was dangling from the edge of the bed to turn off the alarm clock, but there was a slight problem: there was no alarm clock. The only piece of technology that was in the room besides the lights was Orbital 7, the Obsidians’ robotic head butler, who had just been mistaken for an alarm clock.

"MASTER Y-YUTO?" Orbital asked, but the eggplant-haired teen shifted in his sleep, not waking up at all.

Meanwhile, Lulu was already inside her personal bathroom, taking a shower. Ever since she was a toddler, she was given lessons and techniques on how to properly maintain a long and beautiful hairstyle, which she still does to this day. She even had to take care of it during the Invasion, but it was more difficult for her because trying to find places with decently functioning plumbing was a challenge. At least she was lucky enough to find water for the Resistance to drink and for her to wet and style her hair; with Heartland City destroyed at the time, it was improbable for anyone to shower, so she had to make due with what there was. So when she finally washed it thanks to Julia, she was so happy that her hair remained long and beautiful even after not bathing for months.

While Lulu was washing her hair with FeatherSoft shampoo, she heard a knock on the door. "Come in," she said, wondering who wanted to see her since Lillybot was currently brewing her morning tea.

Orbital entered the bathroom. "MISTRESS L-LULU, MASTER Y-YUTO IS NOT WAKING UP," he reported.

"Oh?" Lulu asked.

"I SUSPECT IT IS BECAUSE OF HIS NEW BED IN THE GUEST BEDROOM," Orbital guessed.

Lulu let out a small, polite laugh. "Of course," she said. "He must be used to the same type of mattresses Zuzu uses."

"SO CAN YOU MAKE SURE HE WAKES UP?" Orbital asked.

"I'll see him once I finish my shower," Lulu said.

Some time later, Lulu had just gotten out of the shower and was wearing a light yellow bathrobe with a light blue towel wrapped around her head to help absorb some of the water in her hair before properly drying it and had on a pair of sleepwear slippers. She exited her room and walked over to the guest bedroom where Yuto slept for the night. The door was opened just a tiny bit and has been that way ever since Orbital wasn’t successful at waking him up. She slowly pushed it to check in on him, and sure enough, he was still on the bed in a deep slumber. He must have turned around and was now on his left side facing the doorway shortly after the robo-butler left, and Lulu couldn’t help but find him adorable as he slept. His legs were now closed, but the pant legs were still rolled up and his shoulder was still exposed; however, he was holding one of the pillows near his body. He must really like the mattress her family has.

Letting out a small giggle, Lulu approached her sleeping boyfriend. "Yuto..." she said, gently touching his cheek. "It's time to wake up..."

However, Yuto stopped snoring and moaned a bit from the slight contact. "Yuto...?" Lulu asked.

"Mom..." Yuto muttered in his sleep.

Lulu smiled softly, realizing he was dreaming about his mom. However, his content expression became that of fear.

"Yuto?" Lulu repeated, starting to sound concerned.

"Mom, don't leave me..." Yuto said in his sleep. "Please... Don't..." His eyes shot wide open. "MOM!"

Lulu was surprised, seeing her boyfriend heaving as he sat up. "Did you have a bad dream?" she asked.

Yuto looked around the room, confused. "...Where am I?" he asked.

"You're in the guest bedroom," Lulu answered. "You moved in last night after returning from a Renaissance Faire with the Sakakis."

Yuto looked around the bedroom to see that he had indeed moved in last night. There was luggage next to the closet that contained his clothes he had packed, along with the Sword of Nobles hung up on the wall parallel to the bed and a small shrine on the right nightstand that contained the framed selfie of him and Lono, which was made last night in memory of her.

"Right..." Yuto said. "I forgot about that."

"But did you really need to bring that sword with you?" Lulu asked. "It looks pretty dangerous."

"It's something I won at the Renaissance Faire," Yuto explained. "Only true Knights with the kindest of hearts can wield the Sword of Nobles. It's a reminder that I really belong here, among your kind."

Lulu let out a small giggle and gave Yuto a 'good morning' kiss. "We can discuss this later," she said. "Right now, you need to freshen up."

"Oh, right," Yuto said. He got out of bed. "Sorry for oversleeping."

As Yuto walked over to the private bathroom in the room, Lillybot entered holding a teacup with a small plate. "YOUR MORNING TEA IS READY," she told Lulu. "PLEASE REMEMBER TO SIP IT SLOWLY."

"Thanks Lillybot," Lulu said as Lillybot gave her the teacup.

"Morning tea?" Yuto repeated. "You drink tea every morning?"

"Mother said the time I take to drink from this teacup is the same amount of time needed to properly remove extra water from my hair," Lulu explained. She took a sip from the teacup. "So I started drinking a special tea blend every morning a few years ago."

"That's pretty interesting to hear," Yuto remarked before he closed the private bathroom door.

Upon turning around, he saw his reflection in the mirror and noticed how much of a sleepy mess he was. Aside from his rolled up pants and his shoulder poking out from the neck hole of his large shirt, he had a severe case of bed head as a result of him oversleeping. It was a good thing he was about to take his shower and he caught on how nicer it was when compared to his old bathroom and Yuya’s in fact, everything about this bathroom had a nice appearance. It just so happened to be his reaction when he first moved in—he loved everything about the house when he first saw it…that is, until one of the maidbots gave him a forced spa treatment because she thought he was a visitor of some sort. Because of that, special 'pampering-prevention' protocols had to be activated. Who would have ever thought that such simple programs designed to avoid unnecessary grooming would come in handy?

Yuto noticed several bottles of shampoo on the bathroom counter. Curious, he picked up one of them and read the label. "Uh, Lulu?" he called out. "What kind of shampoo is 'MoonShine'?"

"It's a special kind of shampoo focusing on a type of spa treatment called hair-therapy," Lulu explained from outside the bathroom. "The kind my family buys focuses on detangling hair."

Detangling hair? It does make sense since hair was vulnerable to getting tangled up in snarls and knots, as seen with Yuto’s bed head; he switched his sight between MoonShine, his messy hair, and the shampoo-stocked counter. Man, they sure do have a lot of shampoo brands, he thought to himself. And I’m just used to using only one. How do they even know who uses what?

Well, it shouldn’t matter to him regardless because as long as he continues using his Spike and Curl, he’ll be fine in terms of shampoo usage. …But dang, they seriously have a lot for their respective hair care regimens and spa treatments. Dandruff control. Silky and soft results. You name it. Some of the most expensive brands they bought were used to treat any familial hair issue, so it was nice that they were prepared, but do they really need several of them? Yuto assumed it must be a perk of being born in a wealthy, elite, and high-class environment and decided to carry on with his shower.

Once Yuto took off his sleepwear and put it in a nearby hamper, he stepped into the shower with the bottle of MoonShine he was holding and turned on the water. Standing underneath the shower hose, he let the warm water pour down from above and soak his hair and entire body; a multitude of droplets sprinkle onto the eggplant-shaped locks and flowed down the tangled strands while the rest made impact on his skin and slid down to the ground. Even though he was already clean from his spa treatment, he wanted to freshen up on his own without the hassle of maidbots catching him off guard and giving him one.

With him now soaking wet, he took the bottle of MoonShine and applied the same amount he typically uses with his shampoo brand. He caught a whiff of its scent—and found it to be quite sweet—before lathering it all over his hair. The scrubbing of his hands through the strands and on the scalp created foamy suds on top of his head. If he was going to be honest, it felt a little weird not using his own shampoo brand, but it does detangle hair, so he’ll be fine with it as long as it gets rid of his bed head. Will it still retain the same spiky results? Yuto asked himself. Guess there’s only one way to find out.

"Look at you, Mr. Big-Shot. You're finally livin' the good life."

Yuto let out a chuckle as he applied some lavender-scented soap to his body. "Good morning to you too, Zarc," he said.

"So what's the plan for today? A fun swim in the luxury pool? Being fed grapes as you get a manicure? Dueling with a diamond-encrusted Duel Disk?"

"Actually, Mr. Obsidian gave me my new weekend schedule last night," Yuto answered. "After breakfast, I'm supposed to begin my training as a wealthy person."

"Pfft. You don't need training for that! All you need to get started is a huge bath of gold coins to swim in!"

"Zarc, this isn't like those old American cartoons," Yuto said. "Apparently being wealthy involves a lot of hard work, especially with looking absolutely perfect."

"So you have to take boring lessons so you can marry your girlfriend? That doesn't sound like fun."

"It kind of is," Yuto said. "One of my lessons is ballroom dancing. I even have some time to work in the family gym."

"Okay, maybe some of those things are fun, especially the dancing bit."

Several minutes passed and Yuto had finished with his morning shower. His hair was already soaked from the water, but at least it took care of his bed head. But one look in the mirror revealed a new dilemma.

"Stop laughing," Yuto told Zarc.

"But your hair is all flat! How could I not find that funny?!"

Zarc was right about Yuto's hair looking completely flat; his light purple bangs were covering his eyes in a similar manner to how they behaved when he was a child, only they now left some gaps in between for him to see through. To top it all off, the black locks were flat enough to almost mirror Yuya’s hairstyle. Apparently, MoonShine doesn’t work well with spiky hair yet it does work for other types of hair, so that was kind of ironic to say the least.

"This is why I also have to use a hairdryer," Yuto said. Luckily he found a hairdryer on the bathroom counter, so he plugged it in and used it and a brush to make sure his hair was dry and nicely brushed.

"Didn't you used to have shorter hair?"

"Yes," Yuto answered.

"Then if managing that uncontrollable mess of hair is a problem, why not cut it short again?"

"Because I actually like this style," Yuto answered. "It helps emphasize my most attractive features."

"Oh right, I forgot you're the one with the massive ego."

"I don't have an ego," Yuto explained. "I simply like it when other people tell me how handsome I look."

"Well if those memories of your childhood are any indication, it looks like that's part of you being a mama's boy."

Yuto blushed out of embarrassment after hearing that comment. It’s not his fault he grew up as an only child for most of his life and without a father. In fact, he has never known about his father throughout his entire life, so with the lack of knowledge on his identity and spending so much time with Lono, it was understandable on why he would enjoy other people’s compliments. And with Yuto being constantly smothered by love without a father figure, no wonder people would call him a mama's boy.

"You are right," Yuto said. He finished blow drying/brushing his hair into its usual spiky style and wrapped a towel around his waist. "I did grow up without a father fig-"

"Eep!"

Yuto stopped walking to see Lulu sitting in the guest bedroom’s chair right as he exited the private bathroom. She had abruptly paused with drinking her morning tea because she wasn’t expecting to see him shirtless. Her cheeks quickly flooded with a pink hue as her eyes were already locked onto his torso…and she could not look away from it.

Yuto smirked. "Like what you see, princess?" he asked, flexing his arm.

"Peeeehhhh... Haaaaaaa..." Lulu stammered, her fingers twitching slightly. Ultimately she snapped out of it and quickly looked away as she stood up. "Breakfast is currently being prepared. You should get dressed and meet us in the dining room."

But before Yuto could reply, Lulu quickly left the guest bedroom, leaving the eggplant-haired teen confused. "Oh come on, Lulu!" he called out. "I saw you staring!"

"Congratulations, Romeo. You just broke your girlfriend's brain."

Yuto didn’t mean to; it’s like he said before: when people say he’s handsome, he knows it. Besides, he can’t help it if his figure is slightly more built than his counterparts. It was thanks to the Invasion that his muscles on his arms and chest were subtlety developing. Regardless, Lulu was right; with breakfast being made, they should get dressed. Now with complete privacy, Yuto got changed into his light gray tank top, dark gray, short-sleeved, button-up shirt, and dark jeans with his black belt along with his glasses while Lulu donned into the clothes she wore before the Invasion struck: a light yellow dress over a whitish-pale blue neck shirt, and a pair of white heeled shoes. She even tied her hair into her trademark bow-shaped hairstyle with her wing-shaped barrette.

When Yuto met up with Lulu in the hallway, he smiled softly at her. "What?" she asked.

"You should braid your hair more often," Yuto suggested. "Braids make you look super cute."

Lulu let out a small giggle. "Maybe tomorrow," she said.

"I'm serious," Yuto said as the two headed for the dining room. "I remember seeing you with braided hair during the Leo Corporation dance. I kid you not when I say you look absolutely adorable with braids."

"Oh, stop," Lulu playfully said.

"But it's true," Yuto said. He placed his hand on Lulu's waist. "All that beautiful long hair done in a single braid is an amazing look for you."

"I do like braids, but they're a hassle to make," Lulu explained. "Especially since I refuse to let anyone else touch my hair."

"I know," Yuto said, making sure his hand wasn't near the long locks. "But you would still look adorable."

Lulu giggled once again, with her cheeks that were bright pink earlier in the guest bedroom becoming a lighter rosy tint. Although it was difficult to do braids herself, she actually might consider trying to do them more often; at least it’ll help her improve on braiding her hair. With her brain already keeping that in mind, she and Yuto headed downstairs and towards the dining room. He wasn’t sure where it was located since he just moved in, but it was a good thing he can follow her to wherever it was somewhere on the first floor. Upon arriving, they saw Shay, Kameron, and Astra at the dining room getting ready to have their breakfast once it was done cooking.

"Good morning, Lulu," Astra said.

"Good morning, dearest family," Lulu replied with a small curtsey.

Yuto noticed Shay was wearing a black muscle shirt and dark grey shorts. "What's with the getup?" the Phantom Knights user asked.

"This is what I wear when I go to the family gym for my workout routine," Shay answered.

"But Shay, your weekend schedule starts with an hour and a half of business studies," Kameron informed.

"I'm aware of that, father," Shay said. "But Crow called me this morning. He wants a Turbo Duel rematch this afternoon."

"A Turbo Duel?" Astra asked, confused and alarmed. "Since when did you get a Duel Runner license?"

"I didn't," Shay answered. "But I was given a Duel Runner during my time in the Synchro Dimension."

"And this Crow person wants to duel you?" Kameron asked.

"Precisely," Shay answered.

"But son, being the CEO of a major company is important," Kameron said. "You have to understand that business normally comes first."

"Your father is right," Astra agreed. "We worked hard to make this company possible, and we need you to keep it running when we retire."

"But surely I'll have enough time to-" Shay started to say, but then some robot maids entered the dining room with food.

"YOUR BREAKFAST IS READY, OBSIDIAN FAMILY," a robot maid said. "TODAY'S BREAKFAST IS PANCAKES AND GREASE-FREE BACON. ENJOY."

As a few robot maids exited the kitchen to bring out plates of pancakes and bacon, Yuto was left surprised by what he witnessed. He has heard stuff about how wealthy parents normally treat their children, but it didn’t apply here because Kameron and Shay were quite civil with discussing their disagreements. Does that mean this family functions like a genuine family even though they live in a high class environment and are taught elite manners?

As the family (and Yuto) sat down to eat their breakfast, the discussion resumed. "As I was saying, father," Shay continued. "Surely I'll have enough time to duel Crow."

Kameron thought about that idea. "That could work," he said. "While I am unhappy with how you received a Duel Runner, we could have the duel take place during your resting hour from 5pm to 6pm. Is that alright?"

"Of course," Shay answered. "Thank you for understanding."

Astra noticed Yuto's surprised expression. "Oh my goodness," she said. "I'm sorry you had to witness that unfortunate squabble."

Yuto was even more baffled. The way Astra apologized sounded like he saw a hostile argument. "You're very civil about disagreements," he remarked.

"Of course we are," Kameron said. "Why argue when we can settle disputes with compromises?"

"Father is right, Yuto," Lulu said. "We compromise about a lot of things. Why would you think otherwise?"

Yuto took a bite out of his provided pancakes. "Because while my mom was usually very loving, we often had arguments," he explained. "It was mostly about how I wandered off in public places when I was younger. Apparently it had something to do with 'unexpected bursts of rage' as she called it-" He stopped himself upon realizing what that meant. "Which would explain a lot."

This epiphany made Yuto feel like his entire life felt somewhat different. His first time Awakening wasn’t from his mother’s sacrifice; according to faint memories he was now remembering, it actually happened on occasion throughout his childhood. Could that explain why he was always alone as a child? Why he was initially the outcast among the citizens of Heartland? Why he was drawn more towards the darkness? Why he chose the Phantom Knights as his archetype…and became knightly himself?

"No wonder mom always wanted me to smile," Yuto realized.

"Well you don't have to worry about that now," Lulu reassured after swallowing a mouthful of pancake. "Zarc's gone. You have nothing to worry about."

"Seriously Yuto? You still didn't tell your girlfriend about me? Does she even know Ray's in her head?"

"You're right," Yuto told Lulu. He held her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry for freaking out."

"Whatever. I'm gonna go see what Yuya's up to. Hopefully it's a lot more interesting than snobby rich stuff."

That being said, Zarc finished his mental communication with Yuto and vanished from his XYZ reincarnation’s mind. Well, he didn’t exactly vanish; not only can he talk to more than one of his reincarnations, but he can freely travel between all four of their minds to talk with them, which was he was doing right now. Surely, Yuya must be doing something interesting right now after returning from the Faire.

"So with that set aside, can you please change your clothing after breakfast?" Kameron asked Shay. "You know your time in the family gym is at exactly noon."

"Certainly, father," Shay replied.

"Noon?" Yuto asked. "That's when I'm supposed to use the family gym."

"Precisely," Astra said. "I figured Shay could help get you started today. Which reminds me..." She looked over at Lulu, who was cutting her bacon into small pieces. "Lulu, I would like you to accompany Yuto for his ballroom dance lessons at 10:30am."

"But why?" Lulu asked. "I have archery practice during that time."

"For comfort reasons," Astra answered. "I know you and Shay are used to the robot dance coach, but Yuto probably isn't. Perhaps having his dance lessons with you could help him relax."

Yuto took a bite out of his pancakes, blushing heavily. "Very well, mother," Lulu agreed. "But what about my archery lessons?"

"They will occur starting at precisely 12:05pm," Astra answered.

Yuto couldn’t believe what was happening. He just moved in last night, had the most comfortable sleep of his life, and he’s already receiving scheduled lessons…and his first one is with his girlfriend! Fortunately, the revelation of Lulu’s archery practice subsided his heavy blushing a little; he never knew she did archery, but why was she being taught lessons about it in the first place?

"I didn't know you do archery," Yuto remarked.

"It's my way of getting exercise," Lulu explained. "Mother said a gym is no place for a proper lady."

"Precisely," Astra chimed in. "Especially with your hair getting sweaty, and I'm aware of how long it takes for you to wash it."

Ever since she was a toddler, Lulu always wanted to have long hair after watching several movies where actresses have long hair themselves. Astra reprogrammed Lillybot to not give out her daughter’s old haircut schedule and gave her lessons on how to take care of it over the years; as a result, she has adapted to it marvelously. Although the hair care regimen includes delicate brushing and thorough shampooing and conditioning, one of the benefits is styling it into ponytails, pigtails, braids, buns, and so on. It was rather mind-boggling on how Lulu was still able to maintain a luxurious hairstyle when water, plumbing, and hair products were scarce during the Invasion, but she definitely wasn’t a big fan of greasy hair. With that in mind, it was safe to say she doesn’t enjoy having sweaty hair either whether it is due to pumped-up adrenaline or a hot day.

"So that's why I take archery," Lulu said. "It isn't a very active sport, but it's perfect for strengthening the right amount of arm muscle."

"I could tell," Yuto noted, glancing at her arms.

A few hours later, at exactly 10:30 AM, both Yuto and Lulu arrived at the ballroom for his first ever lesson. He wasn’t sure what the Obsidians’ robotic coach is like or how these lessons go, so he felt a bit uneasy. More so, they were going to be spent with his girlfriend and he couldn’t help but feel somewhat flustered.

When Yuto and Lulu arrived at the ballroom, they were greeted by what was probably the robotic coach. "GREETINGS MASTER YUTO," he said. "ARE YOU READY TO BEGIN YOUR FIRST DANCE LESSON?"

"Of course," Yuto answered.

"EXCELLENT," the robotic coach said. "TODAY'S LESSON WILL BE A BASIC WALTZ, SO PLEASE GET INTO POSITION WITH MISTRESS LULU."

That confused Yuto. "Position...?" he asked.

"Just follow my lead," Lulu said. "Well technically you'll be the one leading me, but hopefully you get the picture."

Yuto has never done a waltz before and wasn’t sure if he remembers seeing it on television due to his personality change over the last few years. At least he now has a good reason to try and watch Waltzing with the Idols just so he can understand how it is done. He followed what Lulu did and got into his starting position; little did he know, both waltzers have to start off by standing in close proximity, leaving him madly blushing.

"Are you alright?" Lulu asked, noticing Yuto's blushy face.

"I'm fine," Yuto lied, tightening his grip on Lulu's waist. "So how does this work?"

"Well for starters, you take the lead," Lulu explained. "Now take a step forward, then to your right."

"Alright," Yuto said, subtly glancing at his feet.

"Don't look at your feet, you goof," Lulu playfully said, brushing a hand through her boyfriend's hair. "Look at me."

Yuto was unable to stop himself from blushing as he felt her hand combing the light purple and black, thick strands. When she removed her hand from his head, they proceeded with the given lesson. They stared into each other’s eyes, with Yuto attempting to maintain his composure and relax the best he could, but a part of him was glad he can finally see her magenta eyes in person and being separated from his counterparts once again. After spending so much time searching for her, adjusting with sharing Yuya’s mind with Yugo and Yuri, and nearly escaping a mind merge, this was honestly all he wanted: being with his girlfriend. Because of Yuto’s deep gaze into Lulu’s eyes, he didn’t notice his feet had moved one step forward and one step to the right.

"That's it," Lulu happily said, moving along with the music. "Now repeat the steps, but this time glide me across the floor."

"Of course, dearest princess," Yuto said, half-paying attention due to him being so happy to see her in person.

With one hand on her back and the other holding her hand, he let his feet do the moving and carried on with sliding to the rhythm of the music with Lulu following suit. The progressing waltz melody guided them across the ballroom floor with mirroring steps and, surprisingly, the basic steps of performing this smooth dance: Yuto’s left foot and Lulu’s right foot moving together and vice versa, doing left and foot changes, box steps, forward progressives, and promenades. The robot coach was dumbfounded by the sight of the two pulling off the basics in a short amount of time.

"MY GOODNESS," the robotic coach said. "YOU ARE A QUICK LEARNER, MASTER YUTO."

"What can I say?" Yuto asked in response. "I'm only feeling the flow of the music."

"Feeling the flow?" Lulu repeated. "I never heard you say that phrase before."

"I just feel really happy to see you," Yuto said as he gracefully twirled her around. "You're so pretty and perfect. I missed you so much and I want to spend so much time with you." An unusually wide grin appeared on his face. "Being with you just makes me want to high-five the sky!"

At that moment, his eyes shot wide open and he clapped both hands over his mouth, realizing what he just exclaimed. To be more specific, on how he blurted it out. He is usually never this enthusiastic and overly happy, which was better suited for Yugo, so what could have caused him to become so energetic all of a sudden?

"Are you alright?" Lulu asked, sounding a bit concern.

"I'm not sure," Yuto admitted, calming down from his little excitement moment. "I haven't seen you in such a long time. It must have given me a boost of adrenaline."

"But you saw me during the LDS dance," Lulu pointed out as she and Yuto got back into position to resume their waltz.

"While we were in Yuya and Zuzu's bodies," Yuto corrected. "I get that we were able to swap places with them, but it felt a bit off. Now I can actually feel your skin, see your pretty face, and even smell the sweet scent coming from your hair."

A light pink tint developed on Lulu’s cheeks for two good reasons. First off, she was flattered about the compliments Yuto made about her skin, face, and hair. Second of all, and more importantly, she soon realized he was right about what he explained. Although she got to reunite with him at the LID dance, it was because their souls were merged in their Pendulum counterparts’ bodies; now that their physical bodies were recovered, they could finally be with each other once again without the threat of Duel Academy catching them off guard.

"You're right," Lulu said. "I can feel actual warmth coming from your hands." She pressed her forehead against Yuto's as the two continued their waltz lessons. "I guess being trapped within someone else's body made me miss the actual feeling of touch."

"I know," Yuto agreed. He gave Lulu a brief yet loving kiss. "Being back in my body makes me want to cuddle with you every evening."

Lulu let out a small laugh. "I didn't know you're a bedtime cuddler," she remarked.

"I never grew out of that habit," Yuto admitted. "I even remember those nights when I would have a hard time sleeping due to either thunderstorms or nightmares. When that happened, I would head over to my mom's room and she would let me cuddle with her. When I got older, she gave me a body pillow as a substitute, which always proved to be effective."

He quickly reassured her that it was a blank body pillow instead of those body pillows, which she had a feeling it was. She then put two and two together and soon concluded why he had that severe case of bed head, snored loudly, and was in an overly-comfortable sleeping position. Without something or someone to cuddle with, he tends to have a difficult time going to sleep; he was lucky to have that mattress to give him one heck of a slumber.

"How about you move in to my room?" Lulu suggested, the two never breaking concentration from the waltz.

"Huh?" Yuto asked, confused.

"If you needed a body pillow to sleep, maybe I could be that pillow," Lulu explained.

Yuto nearly dropped Lulu in shock, his face turning red. He was so embarrassed that he couldn't speak properly. "Uh..."

"I mean, you can cuddle with me," Lulu explained. "I'll clear out some stuff in my room so you could have room for your stuff."

"Are you sure?" Yuto asked. "It feels kind of weird..."

"But it would be nice practice for when we get married," Lulu explained. "We will share a bed together. It wouldn't hurt to get used to that feeling."

She does have a point; because they are arranged to get married in the future, it’s never too late to begin adapting to a paired lifestyle, even if one of them involves sharing a bed. Besides, it’ll help make Yuto fall asleep faster if he moves in with her. She didn’t want to think about the amount of sleep he had during the Invasion and when he was merged with his counterparts, so at least that can also reduce the risk of restless nights he may get.

Feeling calm about this information, Yuto resumed his practice waltz with Lulu. "Alright," he agreed. "I'll sleep with you at night. Hopefully your parents have no problem with that."

"Don't worry," Lulu said. "I'm sure everything will turn out alright."

#Arc V Aftermath #yugioh arc v #Yuto (arc v)#Lulu Obsidian #Ruri Kurosaki #FallenAngelShipping #Rehabilitation

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jackf88 · 5 years ago

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This photoshop shoot was inspired by my El Lissitzky context and his 1924 photographic piece ‘The Constructor’. To create this piece El Lissitzky worked with montage to combine a photograph of his hand and a self portrait of himself in a way where both pictures were layered on top of each other but without disrupting each other, whilst maintaining their two different meanings.

I was inspired by the montage technique and so I replicated that technique in relation to my shoots of social housing. For the photographs from both shoots I tried matching up the ones with similar or equivalent angles, distances, and focuses. When layering the pictures on top of one another I wanted to have the composition of both photographs matched up as much as possible in terms of how far away the focus was, how it was portrayed to look through the angle and how much of the surrounding scenery was visible. The way the foreground, mid-ground and background merged into one another depending on the the environment and the angle the shots was positioned at was the main factor I was taking into account when lining up the photographs. Once the photographs were lined up I had to adjust the opacity of both layers. It was difficult to find the right degree to which to alter each layer to because of the colour schemes. I decided to use one of the matched up photographs as a foundation layer which would be the least edited out of the two images, and I determined which was best suited for the foundation layer through whether it had a high or low light exposure and how brightly it affected the colour of the surrounding scenery. My first social housing photoshoot was taken in broad daylight which made those photographs brighter in comparison to the second Social Housing Shoot as that photoshoot was taken close to sunset when the light was beginning to fade. I did experiment by reversing the order of each photograph layer for each picture, but for most I used the photographic equivalent from the first shoot. This was because of the bright sunlight which would have overwhelmed the equivalent photograph from the second shoot as the natural light was more neutral through the sunlight that fled into the distance.

The foundation layer was decreased slightly in opacity for each photographic combination, however the photograph layered on top was decreased much more because of its physical position in being on top of the foundation layer and overtaking it in a way. I decreased the opacity of the top layer by around 40% or more depending on the contrast between light exposures of both photographs that merged together to form the final outcome.

This photograph combines two photographs of similar compositions, however each tower block is at the opposing end of each photograph. Each tower block is at either the left or right side in the mid-ground with paths, patches of grass, or roads in the foreground on the run up to the car park areas at their bases. The ghosts of the three storey residential blocks also ride in from the opposing side of their tower block. These photographic compositions are symmetrical in a way, and the overall elements of each image can be seen when focused on. However, there are two different locations, with two different styles of tower block and surrounding residential blocks. The colours are different and the surrounding buildings on the horizon differ greatly because of the sort of suburban area that each place is shown to be. The meanings of each photograph are the same and different at the same time, because although the composition and setting is similar and based around the same theme of Social and Societal Spaces, the lifestyles are different, the places are different, and the people that live in those areas make it the place that it is today.

This combination of photographs displays portraits of both tower blocks from a distance. The tower blocks have both been layered on top of each other and were taken from a similar distance. This line up displays some differing features such as width, height, the top, and the overall shape of the building where certain walls protrude outwards more than others. The bright blue sky fills the background and overtakes all other colours in the background due to its high light intensity. The sole focus of both photographs was on the tower blocks to introduce them and show them in their entirety. The adjusted opacity of each tower block layered over one another created a hallucinative effect. The top right corner of the tower block from the second shoot is much darker in colour contrast in comparison to the lighter colour of the tower block from the first shoot and the setting it is in, which overall enhances and increases this ghostly illusion. It’s like an object that is being brought into reality in a way but is not quite there and has come to be stuck in a sort of limbo.

These photographs are both mid-shots of each tower blocks faces to demonstrate the reoccurring pattern in the style of each tower block. Both styles have come together to form a sort of interface or compound. When both are lined the look can be confusing because of the ever so different colours, materials, shapes, windows used to create each storey. A feature of most apartments on each level is balconies. The balconies are positioned on both the exterior and interior of the body, housed by the surrounding walls and in protection from the varying weather conditions throughout the year. The balconies don’t line up, and there are lines from the walls designs and windows which are scattered and overlapping at many points. I combined these two photographs together because of the structure of them both. They are both close ups of the outer sides of the building, an out of context and out of sight comparison to everything else going on around them. I get a puzzled feeling when identifying each meaning from each photograph here, but it was the concept of the pattern element which drew me to pair these two photographs together.

This blend of photographs was intriguing because the foundation photograph displays the element of distance and is like a puzzle when piecing all the details like the windows, walls, balconies, colours, sky, and edges together to form this space. However the photograph that is layered on top is also from the first shoot and is enlarged more in comparison to the foundation layer. I combined two photographs from the first social housing shoot to combine two types of buildings with great differences but from the same place. Both buildings were under the same conditions and in a similar style, but it was the size element which stood out most. There’s the exterior of the tower block and there’s the exterior of a three storey residential block that’s in the vicinity of the tower block. I’ve taken a wider angled picture and exposed it to specific apartments that are part of a smaller structure. It’s interesting to see the lines from the residential blocks rectangular shaped pillars intervening with the windows of the tower block. They journey directly down the windows that are consistently repeated, splitting them in half. The meaning from each photograph remains separate but they both come together in their common features. There’s the small windows that are in the space of a huge window from the photograph layered above, which makes it a maze in how each component is found within another version of itself.

The focus of these photographs was on the slightly smaller residential blocks that bordered the tower blocks. Both blocks were three storeys tall with car parks on the ground levels. When combining these two photographs and adjusting the opacity to a point where there was equal transparency in order to see both photographic representations, the cars were incredible factors as they faded over one another to present these soul-like objects that were cut in and out of the reality in their photographs. The yellow van from the first shoot draws the viewers eye from its vivid colour, however there’s a van from the second shoot running right through the body of it creating this appearance of a car within a car. A mode of transport within itself that renders its purpose pointless as it cannot function without a driver, as well as doubling back on itself by having one vehicle overlap another. The edges of both roof’s overlap, forming this common dark area where the angles crossover. The buildings themselves crossover, leaving a shadow in the wake of another as the second ends abruptly and reveals the transparency of the first building. The separate meanings of both photographs diverge and make it clearer for the viewer to differentiate between the two when they don’t exactly line up.

For this combination I tried to add onto the already existing composition of the foundation photograph showing the three storey residential block from the first Social Housing shoot. I added a photograph of the tower block from the second Social Housing Shoot. The tower block photograph was taken from a great distance and it was because of this that I thought I could combine both meanings of both photographs in a different fashion. Through focusing on leading lines I tried layering the tower block photograph over the foundation photograph but on the left half so to perceive the photograph as if the tower block were right down the street from the three storey residential block. The idea was to create this perception of this being one road, however there were going to be details that didn’t fit in as such. There was the change in shades, given that the three storey residential block was taken in broad daylight and the tower block photograph was taken toward the end of the day as the sun began to set. There are other details which do not line up but I was mainly concentrated on the road as it was the a main structural element in the composition of the photograph, and was affected most by the leading lines. I adjusted the opacity to let in the tower block and add it to the street, regardless of though there were rough resemblances of the rest of the scenery from each original photograph.

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theeurekaproject · 5 years ago

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Fratres in Armis

“You’re late.” “I know.” T sunk back into the crowd, trying to blend in with the rest of his cohort. He wished mess dress allowed for the use of helmets; he stuck out like a sore thumb when the TB-class soldiers faces were uncovered. He didn’t need to receive any more comments about how strange it was that he resembled the Imperatrix so closely, almost as if he was her brother. The people who pointed and gossiped were mostly conspiracy theorists whose obsession with uncovering the secrets of the Imperials bordered on insanity, but T had no intention of making anyone aware that the observations they’d dismissed as fringe lunatic nonsense were more accurate than anyone thought.

“Did you at least—“ “Yes, I gave her the chip.” T fidgeted uncomfortably, trying to shield his face from the onlookers. “We should stop talking about this.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?” Ace asked, clearly bored.

“How about how incredible it is that our glorious Imperatrix has taken her rightful place on the throne of Eleutheria?” T replied loudly, making sure he was in earshot of their centurion.

“Yes, let us bask in her glorious presence.” Ace rolled his eyes, though based on the way he was looking at Acidalia, he didn’t mind “basking in her presence” as much as he claimed he did.

The men around them whispered amongst themselves. It was technically a breach of decorum, but nobody seemed to mind—the noise of the cornicenes was loud enough to drone out any errant rumors. Still, T could hear scattered fragments of conversations, words like bastard and Martian and filia nullius. Momentarily, he wished he could inform them who they were speaking to. They’d shape up real quick if they knew the man in front of them was the son of Alestra Cipher.

But to reveal his heritage would be foolish, and it would only fuel the rumor mill to give hints and implications, so T didn’t bother to try to stop the conversation. He’d long since made his peace with the fact that high society would never see his sister as legitimate, and Acidalia most likely had, too. When the revolution came, these haughty scandalmongers would be outnumbered by the people they oppressed, and T would have his justice then.

Until that moment came, though, he would sit and let the nonbelievers complain.

Acidalia was making a speech again, another meaningless sermon about how very thankful she was for the mother who’d never been anything but violently abusive for the entirety of her life. Alestra stood next to her, a mocking caricature of a proud parent. To the untrained eye, she appeared harmless and maternal, but T didn’t need his enhanced vision to see that her eyes were anything but loving. Behind them was Aleskynn, bored and annoyed, twiddling her thumbs in between posing extravagantly for the cameras. Later her picture would be on the newsreels and splattered all over the Internet; she knew that the media favored photos of her over photos of Acidalia.

Aleskynn was a classic Eleutherian beauty, and once she grew up, men would be bending over backwards for her favor. If marriage as a concept still existed on Terra, she’d probably have a thousand proposals from soldiers each more wealthy and powerful than the last. She was only 13, but that didn’t deter anyone. T had nearly killed a man behind a bar in Appalachia for saying something that involved Aleskynn’s name and the age of consent; T had never met his little half-sister, but it didn’t take much for the big-brother instinct to kick in. Everyone else had dismissed it as an act of drunken violence, and he’d gotten off with a slap on the wrist, which was no doubt because he was a TB-class immune and the other man was an O9-class miles. Pulling rank almost always felt wrong, but that time, it was far more gratifying than T would have liked to admit.

T worried about Aleskynn sometimes, though Acidalia assured him that she’d be fine. She was no doubt the favorite daughter; her birth was what convinced Alestra to repeal the one-child law she’d passed in a fit of rage one night when some advisor had implored her to do something, anything, about Eleutheria’s dying environment. It took quite a lot to make Alestra change her mind, especially when it didn’t benefit her in the least. She didn’t have to listen to her own rules—it was generally understood that noblewomen, especially the Imperatrices, were excluded from nearly all legislation they passed. So going through the process of rewriting the law so that mothers could have multiple daughters was uncharacteristic. Alestra was extremely attached to Aleskynn—so much so that they practically shared a name—and perhaps that attachment had finally let her see the joy she was preventing other mothers from experiencing. (It was attachment, not love—T was convinced that Alestra was not at all capable of love.) He still remembered the night when Principissa Aleskynn was born, though he was only four years old at the time. They’d all watched the announcement, clustered around the screen in their home base. Alestra lifted her up like something out of Leo Regem, and the crowds below cheered, like the birth of a princess affected them in any sort of positive way. Maybe they just liked cute children with dazzlingly pale skin and golden-yellow hair. So they cheered for their new Principissa, and Alestra made a lovely speech about how sometimes when things go bad, you just have to start again anew. T was eight when he realized that it was nothing but a thinly-veiled way to make fun of Acidalia in front of the entire nation, and eleven when he realized that not only was she effectively disowning Acidalia, she was disowning him, too (if it even counted as “disowning” when she never acknowledged his existence in the first place.) His blood had boiled, then, and it continued to boil now, red-hot anger coursing through his veins as he watched the rest of the crowd stare rapturously at Alestra like she was God Himself.

But even Aleskynn being the favorite child didn’t save her from anything. Celestia was reportedly Alestra’s favorite sister, and that didn’t help her make it past the age of 7. It would only take one small thing, one little slip up, for Aleskynn to feel her mother’s wrath. And even if by some miracle she managed to avoid the brunt of Alestra’s insanity, she was still growing up in a horrific, cutthroat environment where innocent people were mercilessly slaughtered for crimes they didn’t commit on a regular basis. That was no place for a child to be.

Not that T had had a particularly wonderful childhood himself. At least they didn’t put underage immunes into combat; lower-ranking men had it even worse.

He used to wish he’d been born with an X chromosome; then Alestra would have no choice but to acknowledge him, and he’d be second-in-line. Perhaps then he’d actually know Aleskynn, and perhaps he and Acidalia would have been able to spend their childhoods together. But then he’d have the responsibilities of leading a planet, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever handle politics as seamlessly and perfectly as Acidalia did. Legitimate or not, she was practically made for the job, though T thought she could use a little more self-preservation.

Eventually Alestra’s voice stopped, and the crowd cheered again, mostly. The few servants scattered throughout the flock just looked at one another. T didn’t blame them; they had no reason to like Alestra, or anyone else in the upper class, for that matter. Then Acidalia started talking, and it was just another version of their mother’s meaningless, droning, scripted speech. She spoke like she was filled with emotion, but when T looked at her face, it was blank, empty. He started to doze off again, lost in his own mind, then suddenly something jerked him back to the present.

“You okay?” Ace asked under his breath.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” T shook his head. But there was something bothering him, some gut feeling that told him there was a problem. He scanned the men around him quickly—other than Ace, he didn’t trust any of them very much. Still, none of them seemed to be saying or doing anything incriminating. The man on his left stared at Acidalia mindlessly, no doubt ignoring her speech like T had been, and most of the others seemed wrapped up in a whispered conversation about bets they placed on the outcome of this year’s Winter Olympics. They all seemed relatively innocent. So what, then…?

Then he caught it. A woman stood a ways behind Acidalia, finger on the trigger of a very well-concealed laser pistol. His heart raced for a second and he tried to convince himself that he was being paranoid, that someone else would have noticed such a blatant assassination attempt, then he remembered that nobody else would have noticed at all. High-ranking supersoldiers, or at least the young men who would one day become supersoldiers, were the only people with accurate enough vision to see the woman from here, and T was the only supersoldier who was paying attention to Acidalia whatsoever.

Silently, he elbowed Ace, who looked at him curiously. He nodded towards the podium and Ace’s bright brown eyes suddenly displayed a look of recognition, and—

And then a million things happened in about one Planck second.

T tackled the woman to the ground without a second thought. She shrieked and set off the gun, though thankfully not in his direction—the laser went flying through the crowd, scattering Aleskynn and her ladies-in-waiting, who ducked for cover under chairs and behind their mothers. Behind him, Ace had Acidalia pinned to the ground, and luckily she had the sense not to move. T heard only her panicked “Quid—?” before she too realized the events that were unfolding, and she pulled herself out from Ace’s grip, darting off into the crowd and leaving Ace clutching at the remnants of her torn organza skirt.

T’s momentary distraction allowed the woman to wrestle out of his arms and fire another shot, which he easily dodged; she was clearly untrained, and he wondered if she’d ever even used a gun before. The laser ricocheted off the ceiling and hit someone in the audience, sending an emergency services crew that appeared out of nowhere sprinting to attend to her. Desperate, T hit the woman across the face, and blood flew across her white ballgown, leaving thick, scarlet-red stains. She fell back, dazed, nose bleeding, and T grabbed the gun out of her hand and kicked her to the side. He looked at the Imperial Guard, who stood behind Alestra dutifully, but they didn’t even seem to notice him. Of course they wouldn’t—half of them were probably in on the plan.

God damn it, Acidalia, he thought, what did I tell you? He spared a glance at the bleeding woman he’d just knocked to the floor. Though she was covering most of her face with her gloved hands, he recognized her immediately as Cassiopeia, last of house Generalis, one of Alestra’s favorite followers. Then he had the abrupt revelation that to anyone in the audience, this would look very, very bad. He and Ace had just tackled the Imperatrix to the ground while shots flew in indiscernible directions—to the innocent members of the court, they probably looked like assassins, and to the Nova conspirators, they were criminals for stopping their plans from coming to fruition.

He spared a second to look for Acidalia, who was easy to spot in a crowd of pale blondes. Her curtain of black hair wavered behind her like a flag—or a target. Then he jumped off the podium and made a beeline for her, taking advantage of the chaos surrounding him and the fact that nearly every other man here was dressed in the same uniform he wore. Ace followed, vanishing into the crowd of identical soldiers and leaving a trail of organza and satin fabric behind.

Acidalia sat near the entrance with her gun drawn, looking like a complete wreck. Her dress were coming apart at the seams where Ace had torn it, exposing at least half a dozen petticoats and a very uncomfortable-looking cage crinoline. One sleeve had fallen from its place on her shoulder, revealing a bright purple bruise, and her entire bodice was drenched in Cassiopeia’s blood.

“I never knew House Generalis had such a grudge against me,” she mentioned casually, like everything that had just preceded the conversation was completely normal.

“For Christ’s sake, Acidalia, what are you doing?” T groaned. “Get the hell out of here. I can handle it.” “I don’t need you being in any more danger than you already are. I can handle myself.”

“No one woman can ‘handle herself’ in a room where everyone else wants to kill her, Dalia.” “Neither can one boy.” “They aren’t specifically targeting me!” T yelled, exasperated. One of the girls, a gray-eyed Scientia who didn’t exactly look like she belonged here, stared at him in fear. “Look at these people,” he hissed at Acidalia. “Cassiopeia almost killed you, and the two noblewomen beside her most definitely saw, but they didn’t do shit. That means they were almost certainly in on it. Our mother’s a complete sociopath—she wants you dead more than anyone else—and even if there is a single other sympathetic soul in this room, they’re probably too afraid of her to do anything. I’m also reasonably sure that at least one of Aleskynn’s friends is a spy. Face it—this is not a good location for you right now.”

Acidalia looked at the crowd hesitantly, then lowered her gun. “You’re right,” she admitted, “and I hate it. This place is going to become a bloodbath in a few minutes, and it’ll all be over me. I do hate leaving wars I started.”

“Stop taking responsibility for things you weren’t involved in. You didn’t make any of these assholes join the Nova.” She looked at him, her eyes forlorn. T knew what she was silently saying—maybe she hadn’t intentionally started any wars, but her birth and subsequent ascension was the catalyst for years of tension coming to a head. But she couldn’t control where she was born any more than a common Cantator—the Ciphers liked to pretend they were hand-picked by some vague immortal god to rule over the Empire, but that was all a sort of pseudotheology limited to propaganda, and Acidalia knew that better than anyone else ever could. She had no reason to feel guilty.

“Dalia,” T said again, “go. I know you want to stay here and protect me, but you’re in so much more danger than I am right now. Please, just leave.”

Acidalia bit her lip, but she lowered her gun. “If I listen to you and run right now,” she said, “you need to promise two things to me.”

“Anything,” T said. “Cross my heart.” “One: tell Artemis I’m alive at some point. She doesn’t deserve to spend the next few days panicking about me; she has her own issues, and we certainly don’t need anyone else in the court picking up on the fact that she seems inordinately concerned about the bastard Imperatrix they’ve all decided to kill,” Acidalia said. “Not that they don’t have enough evidence against her already, but, well… I’d rather have them be suspicious than certain. Understood?” T nodded. “Makes perfect sense to me, though I might have a difficult time convincing Ace. He and Artemis don’t exactly love each other.” “Ace’s petty squabbles with his superior officers are irrelevant. Please promise me you’ll at least tell her.”

“I will. I swear.” That was easy enough—barely even a mission. “And number two?” “When I leave, you leave too,” Acidalia said firmly. “No staying behind to investigate new assassination plots or interrogate potential spies or do anything else you weren’t explicitly assigned. I am not letting you put yourself in more unnecessary danger.”

His heart sunk. “But—“ “Listen to me. You are seventeen. You have so much life left to live, and if you stick around here for any longer, you drastically increase your chances of being captured or killed. I never thought I’d tell you this, but please, for all that is holy, find Ace and proceed to your assignment in the Underground. You’ll be much safer down there.” T almost voiced a protest, but Acidalia’s expression said clearly that she was not in the mood to argue. She was scarily good at forcing others to bend to her will, and, like the rest of the planet, T was prone to forgetting all thoughts of resistance the minute he looked at her face. She was so domineering, every bit the empress she was born to be, and even though he knew, logically, that she would never so much as lay a finger on him, it felt unwise to even try to oppose her.

“Okay,” he said finally, hoping he wouldn’t regret it later. “I promise. Now run, please.” Behind them, he could already hear more shots firing—laser guns were quiet, but not silent, and if he listened closely, his enhanced hearing could just barely pick up on the whoosh of laser bolts over the sounds of screaming.

“It does sound like the calvary has arrived.” Acidalia spared a glance over T’s head. “I love you. Don’t do anything stupid.” “You know me.” T smiled reassuringly. “Now go.”

She looked over at him one last time, as if to ensure that he was still standing there, then tore off down the hallway, leaving a trail of fabric and diamond dust. Even after all these years, it still shocked T somewhat to see how careless she was with money. Lab-grown or not, diamonds were expensive, and the amount of precious stones that had been on her ruined dress could probably have fed a family for months.

Not that he really blamed Acidalia for being clueless about value and worth. Alestra hadn’t exactly given her the world’s best education regarding economics.

He stood there for a few seconds, making sure she’d actually left. She was almost always truthful with him, but there had been isolated incidents where she’d lied for his protection, and, uncommon though they were, they’d taught him to never really trust anything she said about her own safety. Acidalia wasn’t dumb, but she was dangerously selfless, especially when it came to her loved ones. T had seen older boys with that same magnanimous altruism. They usually didn’t make it past twenty.

Ace caught up to him just as he finished sweeping the hallways, which were, evidently, clear of Acidalia (though he wouldn’t put it past her to be sitting someplace up in the rafters acting like a royal sniper.) At some point, the torn pieces of her skirt had come apart, and they stuck to Ace with static cling. Strips of fraying lace dangled from his uniform, catching on pins and wrapping around badges, leaving behind tiny white threads that made him look like he’d been caught in one of Eleutheria’s famously rare snowstorms.

“You look like you have dandruff,” T said flatly, reading up to brush some of the white debris off of Ace’s shoulder.

“You look like you have heatstroke,” he retorted, his voice equally as deadpan. “Where’s your sister?”

“Gone.”

Ace frowned. “I was hoping to meet her.” “Not a good time for her to schedule an audience. And don’t call her my sister, you don’t know who’s listening.”

Ace rolled his eyes. “Like anyone here will put the pieces together.” “Alestra would. We look very alike.” T and Acidalia could easily be recognized as siblings if they were stood side by side; they both had Alestra’s slender face and high cheekbones, coupled with their father’s deep brown eyes, brown skin, and pitch-black hair. The combination of “noble Eleutherian” and “penniless Martian” was not common, and it wouldn’t take a genius to see that they were more than strangers. Alestra had given birth to T, even if she’d have liked to forget it, and she was no idiot—she’d be quick to realize their relationship. T didn’t know the ramifications that would have, but considering his mother’s dislike of Acidalia, he had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well.

“We still can’t risk it,” he said, not wanting to argue with Ace any longer. “We need to get out of here. We have to go to the Underground at some point, anyway, and it’s too dangerous to stick around much longer.” The fighting behind them had mostly stopped, but it would probably not look very good if a Magistratus rounded the corner to see Acidalia missing and Ace clutching at the remnants of her torn clothes.

“Ironic, isn’t it? Who’d have thought that the Underground is safer than nice, pretty uptown Appalachia.”

“Sometimes it’s better to be in a place where nobody has any idea who you are.” T glanced one last time at the crowd of diplomats and the police trying to keep them in line before pulling Ace down another hallway. He knew this place like the back of his hand—he and Acidalia had spent their adolescent years hiding from Alestra in these stark white corridors. It wasn’t unusual for soldiers to be seen around the palace, especially high-ranking immunes like Ace and himself, but they’d always been cautious, just in case. The stakes were too high for them to let their masks slip. The planet had never been closer to a civil war, and T didn’t want to be the harbinger of a new era of violence—that was, if it wasn’t already written in his DNA.

#eurekaproject #on the edge of eureka #chapters #POV T #T #Acidalia #Ace (Character)#Cassiopeia

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mikeyd1986 · 6 years ago

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MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 140, January 2019

On Saturday afternoon, my parents and I checked into the Bellevue On The Lakes motel, located between the North Arm and Cunningham Arm of Lakes Entrance. We’ve actually stayed here before but this time we thought we’d try booking one of the apartments with a back end view of the lakes. As usual, the long three hour drive had made me sleepy and restless so I didn’t feel like doing much when we got here. https://www.bellevuelakes.com.au/

We did go for a walk down to the local ALDI store to buy some groceries plus relaxed outside on the front patio area. It’s a very spacious accommodation with a living area, sofas and large flat screen TV, glass dining table, a kitchen, bathroom, master bedroom and spare bedroom with a trundle bunk bed. There’s also a swimming pool and BBQ area located on site plus the Albert & Co - Coffee Food Catering restaurant, where we’ve actually booked for dinner tonight. https://www.bellevuelakes.com.au/facilities-home

On Sunday morning, we had a bit of a rocky start (literally) with one of the rear tires going flat on Rod’s car. Luckily we had a spare in the back and was able to change it over. We also discovered that someone (most likely one of the kids) who stayed overnight at Bellevue must have deliberately let air out of the tire as there was no sign of piercing or slashing. We briefly drove down to Paynesville to visit the Paynesville Community Craft Centre then had some lunch at The Fig Cafe.

There’s something really calming about watching the waves go in and out anywhere in East Gippsland. The scent was a mixture of strong brine, seaweed and salt water as a moderately cool breeze blows across my skin. Later that Sunday afternoon, we visited the Nyerimilang Park which is located about 10km North-West of Lakes Entrance. It resides on a cliff-top which overlooks many of the Gippsland Lakes and surrounding islands. https://nyerimilang.com.au/proddetail.php?prod=where-to-find-nyerimilang-park-nungurner

The heritage park contains a variety of bush walking tracks plus lots of plant and bird life. Then there is the Nyrimerlang Park Homestead which was originally built by Frank Stuart 1894 which would be his family home for fishing and shooting near the Gippsland Lakes. During the 1920’s, the homestead was passed on to his son Frank Stuart Jnr who extended the property, developed the gardens and hired a few housemaids and a gardener. https://nyerimilang.com.au/proddetail.php?prod=history-of-the-homestead

On Monday lunchtime, we visited the Lakes Entrance Mechanics Hall where they had an exhibition on to learn about dolphins, sponsored by the Marine Mammal Foundation. We discovered that there are only about 65 dolphins remaining around the Gippsland Lakes area each distinguished by the unique shape of their fin. It also talked about their diets, communication using echolocation and similarities in anatomy and bone structure compared to humans. https://www.lakesentrance.com/2-uncategorised/40-burrunan-dolphins?buttons=1&detail=0&tmpl=component

On Monday afternoon, we went on a short trip down to the Main Beach Lakes Entrance located over the Footbridge. I decided to bring out the beach shelter that I bought recently and set it up down near the red-and-yellow flag. I was very relaxing listening to the sound of the waves crashing down on the sand. I only dipped my feet in the water as it wasn’t hot enough to go in completely. https://www.lakesentrance.com/explore/beaches/item/main-beach

On Tuesday morning, my parents and I visited the Cells Cafe in Bairnsdale (located on Nicholson Street, close to Kmart). This is a regular attraction for us as Cells is run by Noweyung who provide disability and employment support services. The cafe staff are all local people who have disabilities and many different strengths and capabilities. They always provide excellent customer service, great food and are in a very friendly, relaxed environment. http://noweyung.org.au/the-cells-cafe/

On Tuesday afternoon, we dropped into Dahlsens Mitre 10 Bairnsdale and had lunch at the New Leaf Cafe. Considering it was lunchtime, the whole cafe was buzzing and packed with people so we were really lucky to get a vacant table. We decided to order some mixed sandwiches as well as cappuccinos. This is a very big Mitre 10 store with a garden and trade center, a variety of gifts, ornaments, decorations, outdoor furniture and bunches of flowers. http://newleafdahlsens.com.au/

On Wednesday lunchtime, we stopped at The Barn at Kalimna - Cafe 4.9 for lunch which is located on the outskirts of Lakes Entrance. The cafe is found inside a large barn-shaped dwelling with stunning views of the hilly landscape that is Kalimna West. We decided to sit on the opposite side underneath the market umbrella. I ordered the summer burger which contained crispy deep-fried chicken, pineapple, coleslaw, herb fries and a garden salad. https://the-barn-at-kalimna.business.site/

On Wednesday afternoon, my parents and I went on a lovely cruise aboard the Thunderbird boat from Peels Lake Cruises in Lakes Entrance. Departing at 2pm, we went on a two and a half hour cruise which covers Lake King and Lake Victoria via Metung, Raymond Island and Paynesville. We spotted lots of marine and birdlife including seals, pelicans, black swans, ibises, cormorants and herons. We also saw plenty of lakeside properties with their own private jetties and boats. https://www.lakesentrance.com/cruises/charter-cruise/item/peels-cruises

We stayed on the top deck for most of the duration until the strong winds and sun got a bit too intense for us and we moved inside near the captain’s cabin. My skin turns to burn very easily when it’s fully exposed to the sun so you best believe that I was putting plenty of sunscreen on the back of my neck, face, arms, thighs and shins. But for the most part, it was pretty relaxing and informative learning about the geography of the Gippsland Lakes. https://www.victorianplaces.com.au/gippsland-lakes

On Thursday morning, we went down to Lakes Squash and Movie Theatre and saw the movie Instant Family. It’s only a single regularly sized movie theatre but it does have air conditioning and less advertisements that a typical cinema does. This comedy drama directed by Sean Anders focuses on the issues of the fostering and adoption agency as well as the trials and tribulations involved with becoming foster parents. *START OF SPOILERS*

Couple Ellie (Rose Byrne) and Pete (Mark Wahlberg) spend most of the lives renovating houses. They are constantly egged on by Ellie’s sister Kim (Allyn Rachel) and brother in law Russ (Tom Segura) and get labelled as being perfectionists. That is until Ellie wonders about the idea of having kids. One night, Ellie spends time on the internet searching for child adoption and fostering and eventually convinces Pete that they should attend an information session about it.

There they meet social workers Karen (Octavia Spencer) and Sharon (Tig Notaro) who give them a “no bullshit” run down of the process involved in adopting and fostering a child. At the Open Day, Pete and Ellie really struggled to find the “right child” for them and against all odds, find a connection with a young teenage girl named Lizzie (Isabela Moner). But they’re in for an unexpected surprise as she comes along with younger brother Juan (Gustavo Quiro) and younger sister Lita (Julianna Gamiz).

The family are initially really reluctant and judgemental when Ellie and Pete deliver the news about adopting three children but they are adamant to prove them wrong. Through various support group meetings and several accidents, temper tantrums and outbursts of anger, the couple eventually work out that parenting is not as easy as it seems on the surface. The fact that it’s also a blended family with mixed nationalities makes things difficult, forcing them to learn Spanish.

Lizzie is very outspoken, dominating and impulsive. She is the oldest and at 10 years old, was forced to step up as a maternal role model to her younger siblings when her own mother was absent and abusing drugs. Juan is very shy, reserved and anxious. He doesn’t think before he acts and often gets into lots of accidents. He places the blame on himself a lot. And Lita is the youngest child. Very loud, bratty and misbehaves a lot but is also easily excited and demands lots of attention.

To add a further complication to the mix, their biological mother gets released from prison and then it becomes a family court issue as to whether the kids continue living with Ellie and Pete or are forced back into custody with their mom. This is a well written and directed family film that strikes the right balance between humourous and emotional moments, even touching on a few political issues like gay couples and their legal rights. *END OF SPOILERS* https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7401588/?ref_=nv_sr_1

I spent some of Thursday night watching the Australian Open Men’s semi-finals match between Stefanos Tsitsipas and Rafael Nadal. Whilst it was a fairly easy win for Nadal winning in straight sets, I was still very proud of Tsitsipas’ efforts during this match and his overall performance throughout the tournament. It’s sad that Tsitsipas was really hard on himself after the loss to Nadal but I believe that he will bounce back from this. https://wwos.nine.com.au/videos/tennis/tsitsipas-dumbfounded-after-nadal-thrashing/cjramhpy2001t0hrptyhb63xv

Stefanos Tsitsipas is an extremely humble, down to earth young talented tennis player. I honestly wish that we had more Australian tennis players like him. The only ones who hold a candle are Ash Barty and Alex De Minaur. It's good to see that he doesn't let his ego, level of fame and attention from the media destroy his sense of self unlike players like Serena Williams and Nick Kyrogios who act like spoiled, self centered brats! I can see a big future ahead for Tsitsipas!

On Friday morning, we decided to have breakfast at The Barn at Kalimna - Cafe 4.9. It was predicted to be a scorching 44 degrees in Melbourne today with hot gusty winds and a total fire ban throughout the state. It was already rising up to 33 degrees by mid-morning and so I could only stand in the direct sun for a few minutes before it really got to me physically. As I’ve said before, I really don’t cope well in extreme heat but luckily a cool change is on the way this afternoon which should bring the temperature down to the mid-20’s again. https://www.9news.com.au/national/2019/01/25/05/50/victoria-sizzles-as-it-waits-for-an-afternoon-reprieve-as-heat-scorches-most-of-the-country

On Friday night, I went to my HIIT + Circuit small group fitness class at CinFull Fitness. Due to the extreme heat today, I could sense that most people’s moods were pretty low and just feeling physically drained. Thankfully it was only around 26 degrees tonight and Cinamon decided to make it a low intensity circuit. We did 3 rounds of 45 seconds each exercise plus 5 overhead med ball squats.

First we worked on the lower body: Dumbbell Lunge pulses (10 each leg), Dumbbell hip thrusts, Lifted Heel Power Lifts. Then we worked on the upper body: Dumbbell flies and Dumbbell overhead presses, T-Bar Rows, Bench Presses and Bicep Curls. T-Bar Rows are something that I haven’t done before and it was a little awkward and confusing to do at first but eventually I got it.

Lastly, we did a short core workout which involved V-Ups, Med Ball Sit-ups, Bicycle Crunches, Scissor Leg Crunches and a Plank Hold. We were all in hysterical laughter by the end of it mostly because of how ridiculous these movements looked and how much we all secretly hate doing core workouts. But it’s also what makes going to these classes a lot of fun.

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vicenteboles281-blog · 7 years ago

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Significant Maid From Honor Gifts

Performance analyses can have useful, significant end results, for workers along with for institutions. Some tracks of worship include: Vunna Pattuna Vochu, Thrahimama Kristhunada Daya Choodarave, Nadipinchu Nanava, yesu nannu premichinavu. Ear gauging is utilized today by both males and females as a means of bodily accessory as well as to express their character just as they were actually due to the early Ainu from Japan, or even the Dayaks and also Berawan of Borneo. For children, symbolic representations do certainly not naturally indicate everything given that they are actually only approximate representations of actual objects. You must be actually extra or much less in the green to making a purposeful and also wonderful layout for banner printing if you blend all the factors over in one inspirational signboard. 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Another instance would certainly reside in remembering the verses of the songs or even in keeping in mind accounts that you could have read before. Whatever kind of job you do-whether you're independent, benefiting someone else, or something in between-if freedom, intricacy, and also a relationship between attempt and also incentive appear, it's my opinion you possess a better possibility from creating your job purposeful. But he never revealed this. I understand a number of you were offered paints through him as gifts. The remainder from the file illustrates the procedures that third-party products could make use of to please these Meaningful Use (MU2) goals using HealthVault. To materialize the significant use of the Electronic Health Record modern technology efficiently, the qualified professionals, entitled cahs as well as healthcare facilities need to state the scientific premium measures which are actually administered primarily to them. 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That is worthless to state at the beginning, I must not compose much more than 300 terms hereof", due to the fact that 500 words might be actually the minimal important. Yet another instance will remain in remembering the verses of the tracks or in bearing in mind stories that you could have read in the past. Whatever type of job you do-whether you're freelance, benefiting other people, or even something in between-if liberty, intricacy, and also a link in between attempt as well as benefit are present, this's my belief you have a much better opportunity from creating your job relevant. Yet he never showed that. In case you have any kind of concerns concerning where by and also tips on how to employ yellow pages uk mobile numbers (here.), you'll be able to email us at our web site. I know several of you were actually given art works by him as gifts. The same thing opts for names of your kids, exclusive times, images from your loved ones, household pets or even idolizers, memorials to your (died) loved ones (their title, image or an icon) etc ... Even a good drawing of your prediction is actually much more purposeful compared to a random tattoo layout. Sara de Dios is actually supervisor, global organisation innovation at Havas Media as well as international head of significant companies, leading the group's campaign worldwide. Products with Direct Message capacities can easily use this as a model for sending CCDAs to individuals for the functions from Meaningful Usage VDT standards. The schedules of purposeful usage describe a collection of purposes as well as processes to ensure improvement from population health in the coming years. Lots of find that as a physicians' trouble because they are actually the targeted group behind meeting purposeful make use of needs. This offers our designs an extra significance, because our experts are going to deal with our wedding whenever our experts check out this.

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