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comicgeekscomicgeek · 4 years ago

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Their Hero Academia – Chapter 62: Final Exam Part 4: Short Essay

Presenting the next raw and unedited chapter of my on-going, next-gen, My Hero Academia fic, Their Hero Academia! Please note, this chapter may undergo more extensive editing before it gets posted to AO3/FF.net, as there’s a lot of fight scenes that may need clarity editing.

Earlier chapters can be found here

The last blast of her Jetpack brought Sora to the ground, where some of her classmates, including Toshi, were waiting. Ordinarily, she might remove her helmet in order to have a clearer conversation or to wipe the sweat from her brown, but with a potential sniper on the loose, it seemed an undue risk. Instead, she used her tongue to adjust the small straw on the helmet’s right cheek and sipped from the juice it offered.

Satisfied with that, she tapped the side of her helmet and activated the communicator. “This is Jet-Red,” she announced. “I spotted nothing on my sweep of the western sector and have returned to base camp.”

Her brother’s voice quickly followed. “Jet-Blue responding,” he said. “Eastern sector air sweep is complete. No sign of any additional civilians or the Villains. They appear to have gone to ground.”

“Slyde here, nothing on the ground sweep of the north sector either,” Haimawari reported. “Heading back home.”

“You’re listening to Channel Stick ‘Em Up,” came Sero’s voice. “Nothing on my aerial view either. Where the hell are they? I didn’t expect to be playing Hide the Villain today. Totally unfair! Midoriya, I thought you said they were coming for us!”

Kirishima-Bakugo’s voice cut in. She was up on the roof of the civilian defense shelter with Kaminari, Aoyama, Izumi, and Shinso. Their ranged fighters, who could rain firepower down on any attackers or more easily shoot Raptor out of the air if it came to it. “Cut the chatter, you damn sorry excuse for a tape dispenser!”

“Okay,” Toshi said, his communicator filled with static. She’d done what she could to repair it, but it had gotten very damaged when he’d smacked into the building. Hopefully, her patch job would hold. “When you guys get back, we’ll brainstorm a new plan. With Shadow-Thief, they could be anywhere.”

As he clicked off the communicator, Toshi let out a sigh. “So much for that plan.” He was discouraged, she could tell. It had been nearly thirty minutes since they had regrouped and he had dispatched the speedier and more mobile members of the class to look for where the Villains might be coming from and they had nothing to show for it.

So many times, she and her classmates looked to him for direction. They always had. Toshi had always been the one looking out for all of them, even when they were small, making sure everyone was getting along, making sure everyone’s needs were met. With the fate of everyone’s passing being tied to this exam, it was little wonder he seemed to be feeling that even more strongly.

“When one hypothesis fails,” she said, “you must select another.” Slightly cautiously, she put her hands on his shoulders. He didn’t flinch away from the contact, which was good. Since they had last talked about it, he had been getting better about not being as anxious when they touched. “We believe in you, Toshi. And we will figure this out.”

Toshi nodded. “Okay, yeah, you’re right. Thanks, Sora.”

“Of course,” she said. “One of the requirements of being your girlfriend is supporting you in your endeavors.” She’d been reading excessively on “how to be a good girlfriend” on the internet. Much of the advice was contradictory and confusing, but she was attempting to sort through it all. If need be, there were more experienced sources of advice within the class as well. “Also, I am as invested in our success as a class as anyone.”

Above, she could hear Shinso’s sonar scream, sent out at regular intervals per Toshi’s directions, sweeping in a wide arc from west to east. The noise would probably let any Villains know they were being watched, but it was better than being caught completely unawares.

“I think I saw something this time!” Shinso reported. “Just a blip though. Like when Shadow-Thief was doing her shadow thing! Big group though… I think she’s moving all of them!”

“It looks like your hypothesis was correct after all,” Sora told Toshi. “Your time scale was merely inaccurate.”

Time scale… time scale… That had to be important…

Oh no.

Sora looked up and tracked the position of the sun in the sky, relative to where it had been early. Her eyes darted to the buildings across the street, where long shadows were starting to draw. Of course. The Villains had waited until they had opportunity to use the shadows to their advantage.

“Aoyama!” she shouted. “We need as much light as you can muster! Across the street! Now!”

But it was too late. The shadows across the street rippled as four figures began to rise out of it. The same Villains Shinso had identified before. Jawbreaker. Raptor. Kamuy. Shadow-Thief.

There was no time. The Villains were here.

“Okay, everybody!” Toshi called out. “Just like we planned it! Let’s take these guys down!”

***

Shinso, Todoroki, Aoyama, Kaminari, and Kirishima-Bakugo were still on the roof, ready to rain their firepower down from above. Tensei Iida, Sero, and Haimawari were still out in the field, heading back to the basecamp. On the ground, that left Midoriya, Sora Iida, Koda, Sato, Ojiro, Mineta, Tokoyami, and Daisuke. He’d been tense, waiting for the moment when the Villains appeared. He was strong, he knew. He was no Deku, of course, but still powerfully built. In training, he was used to be being able to take care of most simulated opponents with just a few blows.

Strength was hardly everything. It was why he trained his reflexes and his senses to their utmost and why he tried to maximize the range and mobility his Extendo-Arms offered him. He doubted that he would ever be a particularly highly ranked Hero, he shied away from the spotlight too much for that without factoring in anything else, but he was determined to be an effective one.

But for the first time, when fighting that Kamuy woman, his strength had been useless. Worse than useless, it had been turned against him. She’d thrown all the strength of his punches right back at him. Not a feeling he relished, nor one he hoped to experience again.

There was barely a moment between the Villains appearing, Midoriya’s direction, and the move by both sides to attack. A barrage of ranged attacks flew forth first: focused laser beams from Aoyama, explosive-infused disks from Kirishima-Bakugo, electrical blasts from Kaminari, waves of sonic-force from Shinso, and gouts of flame from Todoroki. They had the desired effect and the Villains scattered, with Raptor taking to the air on a giant gust of wind, Kamuy going right, and Jawbreaker going left. Shadow-Thief vanished back into the shadows… something that probably wasn’t going to be good.

He saw Sora Iida jetting into the air to fight Raptor, with Tokoyami dispatching Frog-Shadow to fight alongside her. He saw Mineta firing those sticky balls from her horns, trying to tag Kamuy. And before him, he saw Jawbreaker.

The Villain was more massive than Midoriya had described him, now made of both stone and metal, blending unevenly across his form. Daisuke glanced briefly to his right and saw Midoriya, then nodded.

Daisuke was too tall to go low, but he darted this way and that, dodging out of the way of Jawbreaker’s fists. Even weighed down with the extra mass, the big Villain was fast. He swung his second set of arms high and his third set of arms low and extended them out as fast as he could, smacking the Villain with a series of rapid-fire blows. Again and again, like pistons, he fired his four fists out, smacking hard against metal and rock.

“Argh!” He let out a cry of pain as his fists bounced uselessly against the Villain’s hide, not even denting the metal or cracking the rock.

“Was that supposed to hurt?” Jawbreaker taunted. He launched a powerful blow, but Daisuke got all three of his right side-arms in place to block it. That blow hurt too, but not as bad as it would have if he’d taken it full on. He held his ground at least.

“Would have been nice if it had,” he said. “But I’m just the distraction.”

Midoriya’s gravity enhanced fist smashed into the side of Jawbreaker’s head, sending him flying. Daisuke would be lying if he said he didn’t envy the gravity-backed powers Midoriya could put behind his blows. They made his best triple-haymaker look like a love tap. Jawbreaker skipped like a stone across the street for a moment, before digging in his fingers to stop himself. When he was stable, he jaw opened wide and he took a huge bite out of the street, his scoop like jaw shoveling in cement. As he did, he got bigger still, patches of cement spreading across his body.

Midoriya gave him a concerned look. “You up for hitting him some more? We’ve got to get him closer to our ranged attackers.”

Daisuke shrugged. He was definitely going to have sore knuckles after this. “Might as well…”

***

Mika let out a whoop as her sticky balls successfully pinned Kamuy’s feet to the ground. “In your face, giant lady!” she taunted, making a face. The massive woman was struggling to free her feet, shooting daggers in her direction.

“Ah, maybe don’t taunt the giant woman, Mineta?” Sato suggested.

“Definitely not a good idea,” Ojiro agreed.

There was a non-zero chance they were right. At the end of the day, her balls were very sticky, but they weren’t the universal sealant. On the other hand, seeing the woman fume was so much fun!

“When I get out of here,” Kamuy growled, “I am going to send you to the glue-factory, horse girl!”

“Oh, whatever,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “And I keep telling people, I’m a cow, now a horse!”

She pointed to Kamuy, turning her head to their snipers. “Todoroki! How about you show her how to chill?”

Above, Todoroki pointed and ice began to form around Kamuy. Mika wasn’t exactly sure on what her range was, but whatever it was, it was good. Being able to draw in heat and form ice just by pointing was a damn useful talent.

“Dammit,” Kamuy said. “Didn’t want to do this this early… Going to make you regret it, kid.” She seemed to shimmer for a second, then slammed a fist into the ground. The resultant shockwave rippled outward, blowing Mika, Ojiro, and Sato off their feet, and shattering both the her balls and Todoroki’s ice.

When Mika’s head stopped spinning, she could see Kamuy approaching her. She looked noticeably smaller, though still just as tall and still built like a truck. But noticeably less bulky all the same. She’d probably had to expend a lot of power to do that shockwave then.

Shinso had been surprisingly light on the details of Kamuy’s Quirk. She’d apparently only had a handful of public conflicts with Heroes before being imprisoned. But if they could get her to keep expending energy, maybe she’d run out?

She tried to prop herself up, but Kamuy was faster. The giant woman lifted her by her neck, squeezing just enough to hurt, but not so bad that she couldn’t breathe. Obviously, these guys weren’t allowed to kill them. No matter how much Aizawa had threatened to kick all their asses over the course of the term.

“No smartass remarks now, huh?” Kamuy asked, holding her at eye level. “You got me a little mad, but when I get mad, things get broken.” She raised Mika up a little higher, ready to give her a toss. “This is your last roundup, Hero.”

If she wasn’t about to get slammed into the pavement, Mika would really have appreciated the taunt. As far as those went, it was a good one. She kicked, ineffectively, slamming her hooves into Kamuy’s stomach. Of course, with her Quirk, it wasn’t doing much.

“You know,” Mika grunted, “you’re forgetting something…”

“Am I?” Kamuy’s lips pulled back in a sneer. “What’s that?”

“This close, I don’t gotta aim my balls. What goes up… comes down!”

She fired off a ball from her left horn and jerked her own head back. It didn’t go far, but it did distract Kamuy enough to look up. The ball smacked her right in the face. It wasn’t a big one, barely the size of a softball, but it did cover one eye and hit her with a pretty solid plop! The shock made her release Mika, who fell to the ground on her butt in an undignified heap.

Which was when Ojiro struck. Or at least, that’s what Mika assumed happened. Something struck Kamuy’s legs anyway, causing her to topple over backwards into a hole that definitely wasn’t there before.

“…What?”

“Sorry,” Sato said, suddenly at her side and offering her a hand up. She noticed he had some dirt on his face around his lips. The hole had to be his doing then. Beside him, Ojiro came back into view. “Didn’t mean for that to take so long.”

“Had to wait for a moment where we could actually do something,” Ojiro said. “Even if she didn’t see me, not much I could do unless she was off-balance.”

Mika waved it off. “Nah, you guys did good.”

Unfortunately, all it had bought them was a brief respite. Kamuy jumped out of the hole, landing with a solid thump.

She cracked her knuckles noisily. “You little Heroes used up your shot. Now it’s my turn.”

***

In the time between Tensei’s communication with the others and his arrival back at the civilian defense shelter, the scene had become a warzone. Below, he could see Shoji and Toshi fighting with Jawbreaker, with even Toshi’s gravity backed ricochet blows having little effect on the massive Villain. Haimawari arrived on the ground moments later, peppering Jawbreaker with his blasts, but he succeeded in only distracting him long enough to buy Toshi and Shoji a moment.

Also on the ground, Mineta, Sato, and Ojiro were dodging out of the way of Kamuy, mostly looking like they were trying to avoid giving her any additional power. Based upon his observation, she had decreased in overall mass by at least fifteen percent since his previous encounter with her. Tensei winced as Sato narrowly avoided another of the woman’s blows, but let out a sigh of relief as Takuma finally arrived on the scene, temporarily restraining Kamuy with his tape.

And in the air… Raptor was putting up a valiant fight against his sister and Tokoyami’s Frog-Shadow. According to both Shinso and Takuma, the winged Villain could not actually “fly” like winged Heroes like Hawks or Kestrel, instead relying on his ability to generate powerful winds to keep himself aloft. It required a continuous expenditure and forced him to keep himself in motion, much like his and his sister’s Jetpack Quirks.

But Raptor’s wind blasts were enough to keep both of his attacks from reaching him. Tensei poured on his speed as he watched his sister fire the capture rope built into her gauntlet, but it too was buffeted by the winds and fell back harmlessly.

Fortunately, Raptor did not see him. With one final burst of speed, he came up on the Villain and swung out a fist for a high speed punch. It connected with a solid clang of armored fist on flesh, sending Raptor tumbling out of the air.

“Good to see you are safe, Little Brother!” Sora said, as they both jetted after the Villain, who was flapping his wings and calling up a gale to right himself.

“As I must remind you, I am a statistically insignificant amount of time younger than you!” he snapped back. “That appellation is highly inappropriate!”

“Hey, argue later!” Frog-Shadow shouted after them, being recalled by Tokoyami. “Sheesh, when I’m being the sensible one…”

A sharp blade of wind split the air between them, forcing both Tensei and his sister into evasive maneuvers. The familiar was right. It was hardly the time for arguments. Instead, it was time for…

Tensei turned his head slightly to look at his sister, who, seeming to have sensed his intent, was now looking at him. “Double Rocket Attack?” he asked.

“Double Rocket Attack!” Sora confirmed, confidently.

Both adjusted their flight paths so they were facing each other, then linked hands and fired an extra boost of speed through their Jetpacks. It sent them spinning and both stretched their legs out as far as they would go. Spinning around and around, Tensei’s legs smacked hard into Raptor, followed immediately by Sora’s, again and again.

“And make way for me!” Frog-Shadow shouted. Tensei and Sora backed off as, at what appeared to be Tokoyami’s direction, Frog-Shadow-swooped in and rushed Raptor, slamming into his mid-section, her arms and hands extending to grab his wings. Pinned, he seemed helpless as he slammed into the ground not far from Tokoyami.

Tensei touched down, Sora right behind him. “Is he subdued?” he asked.

“I am afraid not,” Tokoyami replied. “He is… struggling still.”

She was right. Frog-Shadow was strong, of course, but Raptor seemed to be a rather powerful Villain as well. And while she had pinned his wings enough to prevent them from use in flight, she could not grasp every feather… The tips of his wings snapped forward, hitting Frog-Shadow with focused and sharp blades of wind. The familiar let out a cry of alarm and pain one echoed by Tokoyami, and snapped back, allowing him to rise again. Raptor got back on his feet in an instant, wings spreading out behind him for another attack. They snapped forward, shooting out another blade of air. But it sailed over their heads.

“Ha!” Sora taunted. “You missed, Villain!”

Raptor simply sneered. “Did I?”

Tensei turned to look behind them, just in time to watch the wave of pressurized air slam into the roof of the civilian defense shelter, sending their classmates tumbling over the edge!

***

Koharu let out a sharp gasp as the members of Class 1-A who were on the roof were sent tumbling over the edge by the wind blast from Raptor. The girl with the white and red hair—Todoroki, she remembered now—reacted quickly though, forming an ice slide that brought them down to the ground chillily and probably uncomfortably, but all in one piece. The explosive girl, Kirishima-Bakugo, checked on Todoroki to make sure she was okay, but Todoroki pointed towards the fight. With that, the students who had been on the roof joined the fight proper.

“Still waiting on that answer, Kocho,” Aizawa said. “What would you do against these Villains?”

“Give the girl a break, Aizawa,” All Might said. “She wasn’t expecting to get challenged like that.”

“Heroes have to think on their feet,” Aizawa said. “If she can’t do that, she’s got no business joining my class.”

“She’s in the room, you two,” Vice-Principal Midnight reminded them.

“It’s, it’s okay,” Koharu said. “It’s a fair question.” On the screens, she watched as Kirishima-Bakugo hit Jawbreaker with a series of explosive-backed punches, giving Midoriya, Haimawari, and Shoji a brief respite. Even as he swatted her away, Shinso hit the Villain with a sonic blast of force.

“That the best you can do, kid?” Jawbreaker taunted, looming large over the small boy, who suddenly seemed even smaller in the moment. “You giving me the kid’s gloves treatment?”

There was a stillness in the room, a baited breath that told her this was a very important moment, even if she didn’t understand the context.

“Not… even… CLOSE!” Shinso made the word itself into a scream, hitting Jawbreaker with a much more powerful blast that knocked the Villain across the street.

“I knew he still had it in him!” Aizawa said, very nearly rising from his seat. Was he… proud? What was the story there? All Might and Midnight were much less restrained, letting out louder cheers.

“Ahem,” Aizawa said. “Back to the question.”

“Er, yes, sir,” Koharu said. “Jawbreaker… He’s got to see, right? So I’d probably try to blind him with my String Shot. I’m not strong enough to hurt him and he doesn’t look like he breathes, so I couldn’t use any of my scale powders, like my paralysis agent or my poison, so… I might be able to restrain him or at least keep him busy until somebody with a different Quirk comes along.”

Aizawa did not give her any indication as to whether or not that was the correct answer.

On the screens, the fights went on. Sero and Mineta combined their sticky Quirks to restrain Kamuy, setting up Kaminari and Todoroki to join the fight. Todoroki flicked a hand, sending out a wave of ice that covered her legs and temporarily immobilizing her, while Kaminari unleashed an electrical blast from her gauntlets. Kamuy jerked under the attack for a moment, but then began to laugh.

“Oh, yeah!” she cackled. “That’s the stuff!” She was growing larger and more muscular, breaking out of the ice easily.

“Oh, no fair!” Mineta shouted, dodging out of the way of Kamuy’s blows. “She can absorb energy too?! I know Shinso didn’t say that!”

“In his defense,” Aizawa said, seeming to come to the boy’s defense, “it didn’t come up much. All of her recorded battles were with Heroes with more physical Quirks.”

Koharu winced at Kamuy tagged Mineta with a heavy punch. The horned girl went flying, went down, and did not get up. Sero wrapped a strip of tape around her arm, but she flicked her arm and pulled him to her instead, smashing her other fist into his face with enough force to crack his helmet and drop him instantly.

“Um,” she said, feeling slightly bad watching 1-A get beat up like that. “Kamuy absorbs physical attacks. So I wouldn’t want to engage directly. But my scales would probably work. Keep her distracted, keep her fighting and breathing hard, and I could paralyze her or put her to sleep.”

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option for the students fighting her. Powerful blows quickly took down Sato, the poor guy not getting a chance to do much now that she was powered up and enraged. Probably revenge for dropping the telephone pole on her. Kamuy turned her attention back to Kaminari and Todoroki, with Kaminari putting herself in front of the girl with the two-tone hair. Koharu watched as she plugged her Extension Cords into other parts of her uniform, opening panels that revealed lights and speakers. The resulting sound and light barrage stunned Kamuy for a moment, giving the girls a moment to retreat. In the resultant confusion, Koharu realized she’d lost track of Ojiro…

On another screen, the Heroes fighting Raptor were doing a little better than the rest. The glowing boy, Aoyama, had joined the Iida twins and Tokoyami, adding bolts of blinding light to the fight. With Raptor disoriented, the twins both jetted around him, firing some kind of capture line from their gauntlets, circling him several times to pin his wings. Tokoyami sent forth her frog thing again, and this time it let Raptor have it with a one-two punch that sent his head spinning, knocking the winged man down and out.

“And him,” Koharu said, “I’d probably end up fighting in the air, which isn’t great, even if I can actually fly and he’s just blasting himself around. Because those winds could send anything I send at him back or somewhere else. I’m immune to my own scales, but other people wouldn’t be. Too risky. He’s tough… but I might have to risk trying to out-fly-fight him. He doesn’t look like he’s meant for fighting someone who can stay up in the air with him.”

“Good answers!” All Might told her. The compliment made her smile. “Two out of five down. Think they can pull it off?”

***

Kimiko was about to do something incredibly stupid. But Mineta and Kenta were down and nothing Todoroki or Kaminari were throwing at Kamuy was going anything to slow her down for more than a moment. Plus, there was the whole absorbing energy thing to deal with, which nullified Kaminari’s best attacks.

She’d gone invisible as soon as the woman had started swinging. It had kept her safe, but it wasn’t doing anybody else any good. Kimiko considered herself pretty good in a fight and she was a master of hitting things (as Kenta and Takuma could tell you), but against Kamuy…

Todoroki unleashed a blast of flame and that was what finally made Kamuy falter, dodging out of the way of the fire. Fire wasn’t really energy like Kaminari’s electricity was, so maybe she couldn’t absorb that? Over her shoulder, she could see the group that had been fighting Raptor rushing to join the last two ongoing fights. The Twins were jetting off to help Midoriya’s group, while Aoyama and Tokoyami were coming Kamuy’s direction.

Either way, she had an opening. It was time to do something stupid. Keeping herself invisible and silent, she took a running jump and landed on Kamuy’s back.

“What the hell?” Kamuy shouted, trying to reach back to dislodge her. But as muscular as she was, she didn’t have the flexibility to dislodge her, especially since she couldn’t see her. Her legs wrapped around Kamuy’s middle, Kimiko reached up and put her hands on Kamuy’s face and extended her Quirk. Normally, when she extended her Quirk over someone else, if she did it right, she could allow them to continue to see, even though light was no longer reaching their eyes. Some kind of layering thing, Doctor Izumi had said, where she wasn’t stopping all of it, just some of it.

But if she pushed it just right…

She couldn’t see it, but she could only imagine the horror show that was Kamuy’s eyes disappearing from her face. “I can’t see!” Kamuy screamed, thrashing this way and that to try shake Kimiko off, but she’d learned more than a few things from her dad about clinging like a monkey. “Gonna kill you, brat…!”

“Hit her now, guys!” Kimiko yelled. “Hit her now!”

“But, I can’t…” Kaminari started.

“It would not be safe…” Todoroki added.

Right. Dammit. Kaminari’s electricity and Todoroki’s fire would probably hurt her too. Her best idea yet in this fight and she hadn’t thought it all the way through!

“Then leave it to moi!” Aoyama called out. She could hear a faint sound, growing louder, a high pitched whine as he powered up his light to intense levels. “Blinding Dazzle Beam!” Focused on Kamuy, Kimiko couldn’t see him from her perch, but she could hear the sound of a powerful laser firing.

Tokokyami’s voice joined in. “Verdant Cross-Slash!”

“Here I go!”

Kimiko jumped off just in time to see the combination of Aoyama’s laser and Tokoyami’s Frog-Shadow strike Kamuy, taking the big woman completely off guard and knocking her down.

“All right!” Kaminari shouted, doing what Kimiko hoped was supposed to be a victory dance. “Go team! Take that, scary giant lady!”

“Um, Chihiro…” Todoroki began, looking behind Kaminari.

“Not now, Izumi, I’m doing my victory dance!”

“I really think you should listen,” Tokoyami said.

“And look behind you,” Aoyama added.

“And please stop dancing,” Kimiko said. “It’s just embarrassing. And really not the time…!”

“Okay, I don’t know what I’m expecting to see, but I’m going to turn around and… aw, dammit!”

Kamuy was getting right back up. She was steaming and shrinking a little, maybe using some of what she’d absorbed to keep herself going… but she was far from down. The giant woman clapped her hands together faster than the eye could follow, unleashing a massive shockwave.

Kimiko only had time to scream before everything went dark.

#their hero academia #my hero academia #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing #kimiko ojiro #daisuke shoji #tensei iida (THA)#sora iida #Koharu Kocho #shouta aizawa

3 notes · View notes

zefyre · 6 years ago

Note

Garrus/Kag?

a+, 11/10, 👌👌👌✔✔✔✔✔ would write if iknew how to spin it, will cry if somehow by some miracle i ever see any contentfor it, like p l s? god?? y'all, garrus is apparently fucking s e v e n??? feettall??? you guys should know by now i’m so fucking weak for height differences,they’d be so freaking cute together?? that i wouldhonestly die of happiness

god pls i’m just imagining some scenariowhere he has to carry her out of a fire fight or smth bc she’s injured! hewould dwarf her, cradle her close and careful to his chest bc yea she’s abadass but she’s also tiny and human and in his head smol + human + hurt = vstrong need to protect his girl

and now i’m getting ideas lmao look what u did nonny!

(warning: a long spiel of unasked rambling under the cut)

((also also it’s been a while since i lastplayed mass effect and i’ve got the memory of a goldfish so apologies for anymistakes or ooc-ness lmao))

hmm but then how would they meet/knoweach other?? old c-sec partner? kagome comes onto the normandy to like, assistdr. chakwas??? oh! or maybe she meets him during his time as archangel, was apart of his team there but had managed to survive? and when shepard finds themboth holed up at his base and garrus inevitably takes that blast, she helpskeeps him stable and refuses to leave his side?

mhmm, since i can’t really see her abilitieshaving a place in like space? lolol maybe she’d have biotics instead? good witha pistol, deadly with a sniper, and maybe a bit of training in field medicinefor both humans and aliens??? which was maybe why garrus recruited her in thefirst place (and knowing him, he could never turn down a good shot, esp. afellow sniper, and she was a damngood one so the choice was obvious)

like garrus maybe meets her to ask her somequestions – she’s been on omega for a while now, made a bit of a name forherself as someone who’s willing to give a lending hand. she’s not really adoctor per say, but the thing is she knows her stuff. she’s got connections.and what’s better is that she’s nice, she’s unaffiliated, and more importantly,doesn’t ask any questions.

((kagome doesn’t involve herself with any ofthe mercenary outfits, however much she dislikes them, but rumor has it she’sunder aria’s protection which is why no one messes with her. kagome’s justreally good at making friends with the strangest variety of people and bc of that she’s left alone.))

but yea, what started as patching up a coupleof teens here and there that got into scrapes or roughed up from a job or whathave you turned to her apartment becoming a sort of safe haven if you needhelp. if kagome couldn’t help, she’d be sure to know someone who could and sendthem there. garrus picks up her name one day pretty early on in his days on omega,figures with people from all the merc groups coming through her door she’d hearsome things and finds her to get some intel. except kagome isn’t a snitch, pplwouldn’t consider her safe to approach if she was, so of course when he triesto press her for info she only smiles at garrus, hands him some medigeland bandages for the gunshot wound he was trying to conceal (and would swear?? hehadn’t let on about??), and some rations bc helooked like he could use it.

“you seem like a goodguy,” kagome says as garrus finally goes to leave. “smart, too.”

he pauses, halfwayout the door, and turns to look at her over his shoulder. she was stillsmiling, though it was softer now, more genuine. he doesn’t say anything inreply, but he tips his head to the side, listening, mandibles twitching as hewaits.

“you’re not the firstone to get it in their head to take on the mercs.” she looks at him closely.“you know it’s a suicide mission.”

garrus tenses, headdropping low for barely a moment before he straightens and pins her with a hardstare. “you’re telling me to drop it?” the very idea makes him bristle.

the small human womanactually snorts. “i doubt you’d listen. somehow i doubt you’d even care.” sheshakes her head. “no, i’m telling you you’d be dead before the week is up, soif you want to last longer than that, if you actually want to make adifference, put a dent in the mercs’ operations, then you might want to find some people.”her smile grows. “a squad.”

garrus stares at herfor a long moment, studying her. curiosity and something else stirs deep in hischest and he turns fully towards her, eyes narrowing something wry. “and youwouldn’t happen to know a few people that might be interested, would you?”

“well,” she shrugs,all casual and indifferent, but the curl of her mouth was definitely coy. “iknow a lot of people.”

it actually pulls ashort laugh from him, the sound raspy and gravelly but genuine, and it startleshim. he hasn’t laughed in long while, hasn’t had much reason to, not sinceshepard and the normandy…

he shakes himselffrom those thoughts and turns his attention back to the woman in front of him.“then I’d appreciate any help you could give me.”

and from there, garrus finds himself payingvisits to kagome’s modest little apartment every once in a while. sometimes tosee if she’ll give him any intel picked up from her other visitors (shedoesn’t), sometimes to ask if she knows somebody that could get him one thing oranother (that, she could help with) or if she heard any rumors about this murderor a string of missing people (she was more forthcoming when it came to thingslike that, and didn’t mind passing on info she’d heard on her own). andeventually every once in a while turns into a few times a week, to say hi, tochat, sometimes to have a drink.

except as garrus’ team grows and they make aname of their own, they start to make waves – it doesn’t take long after forthe wrong people to make connections, and even all the friends kagome madedoesn’t stop her apartment door from bursting open one day, ppl crashing in armed withguns and demands that she come with them, archangel on the tips of their tongues.

but it’s omega of course, practicallyeveryone was armed one way or another. kagome was no different. it didn’t hurtthat they sent a small group, thinking she’d come without a fight. throwing upa barrier and knocking them out with her biotics was too easy – not a lotpeople even know she was a biotic, so the element of surprise was with her.

It takes over an hour after the fact that hehears about it – he storms over and into her place to see it in shambles, theintruders still knocked out, and kagome gone with the wind.

there’s blood.

none of the mercenaries are bleeding.

suffice to say, garrus is neither gentle norpatient when he grabs one off the ground and shakes him awake to interrogatehim, and it’s only the slightest relief to hear they weren’t able to take her.

even that is squashed when he hears it’sbecause of him that they even came for her, and he’s none to kind when he knocks the fucker out again with the butt ofhis rifle before he’s off to find her.

he’s been looking for over 24 hours whensomeone approaches him, or rather, knocks into him under the guise of passinghim a note with an address on it.

he goes to it, of course, recognizes thehandwriting as well as the address and it’s with knee weakening relief to findher safe and sound in a well-guarded room in afterlife, nursing only a grazeand a strong drink, not even caring how she was even able to organize it.

(aria’s an old friend, she later says, muchto his bewilderment)

and there’s a moment™, garrus crouched down in front of kagome where she’sresting on the couch, and he reaches out to gently take her injured arm,mandibles fluttering in his distress, subvocals thrumming almost a whine when he turns toapologize that she stops him, striking him speechless as she reaches up to touchthe side of his face and smile kindly as she simply says, “not your fault.”

afterward, after garrus double checks on herwound and checks her over for any other injuries despite her rolling eyes andinsistence that she’s fine, and they’re left sitting together on the couch bothnursing a drink of their own, sitting close enough that their thighs arepressed together, she turns to him and says that since she can’t go home now,there’s nothing left but to join up with him now.

to which garrus sputters, choking mid-sip onhis drink, but because he couldn’t find any reason to object (not that heactually wanted to object – if he washonest, if he had ever thought there was the slightest chance she’d actuallyagree, he’d have asked her months ago)he agrees and welcomes her on board.

she fits in nicely with his crew, shepractically already knew most of them in some way or another, and from thereit’s smooth sailing. he couldn’t ask for a better squad, and it was almost tooeasy to disrupt the stranglehold the three merc groups had on omega.

(there’s a human saying about knocking onwood when it came to chancing fate, and if there had actually been any nearby he’d have done so in a heartbeat)

it takes him a long while before he realizes he’snot just fond of her, but attracted toher – it isn’t until they’re betrayed by one of their own that he recognizesthe driving force behind the strong sense of protectiveness that overwhelms himwhen they’re in a firefight, the same one that spikes whenever she dives out of cover tohelp when someone gets hit, and in the months that follow when it’s just themtwo holding the fort against wave after wave of mercs, it’s her that compelshim not to throw himself in one last blaze of glory to take out as many mercsas he can.

when shepard comes blazing in, he almostcouldn’t believe it, he thinks his prayers to the spirits for some way for themto get out of the corner they’d been backed into were answered in the form of amiracle.

he should have remembered the spirits had asick sense of humor when he took a rocket to the face.

#aaand from there #it’s kagome that keeps garrus stable until they could get an evac to the normandy #and she refuses to leave his side even when they get there bc she’s heard of cerberus #and like fucking hell she’d trust them to actually save him #it takes an offhand threat from shepard that anyone who tries to play games w garrus' life gets blasted out the airlock for her to back down #garruskag #nonny #mail time #my fic

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atropaazraelle · 7 years ago

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Five Times Gladio Carried Ignis...

And the one time Ignis carried Gladio.

Available on AO3

Note: Not a new work as such as I wrote this for the prompt before it made the final selection, but I’m reblogging it now as it’s pertinent. My actual entry for today will be along later.

Chapter 1: The first time Gladio carried Ignis

The dagger bounced off his shield with a clang that Gladio felt run through his whole arm. If that had landed on flesh, it would have hurt like hell no matter how dull the blade. A second clang followed a moment later, and Gladio dared to drop his cover and look.

Ignis was flush faced, his hair plastered to his forehead, and a growing dark patch of sweat creeping down his front. He gave a flick of one arm, and Gladio had just enough time to pull his shield up again to block the third incoming dagger. That one had aimed for his head. Ignis didn’t pull punches, even when he was training; not if he thought his opponent could take it.

He was faster to pull his daggers out than Gladio was to pull his sword out, too. Magic was Iggy’s thing; he took to using the royal power like he’d been born to it himself, and he was fast, and precise, where Gladio was tough and had stamina. They made a damn good team. Together they balanced out each other’s weaknesses, and complemented each other’s strengths. Between the two of them, there wasn’t a thing on Eos that could hurt Noct.

Sparring against a guy whose IQ was the same as the weight on Gladio’s barbell was a thrill, too. He forced Gladio to fight in ways no one else did. Iggy was lethal at close range, and pretty dangerous at a long one; the only safe spot was mid-range, or roughly the stretch of Gladio’s training sword. Ignis knew better than to let him stay there, though, so Gladio had to do things like this, where he called his sword to his hand as he was already moving, and swung it with brutal efficiency down into the spot where Ignis was.

Where Ignis had been. All Gladio caught was air, and a good look at the soles of Iggy’s shoes as he flipped over his hands and back, out of the way, one dagger ready to go the moment he was the right way up again. Gladio grit his teeth, fighting the inertia of his huge sword with sheer determination and brute force as he pressed right on forwards and swung again, this time in a wide arc.

Ignis tried to step out of the way. Gladio saw him move, but it was that fraction of a second too late; Gladio was just those few inches too close. Gladio’s sword caught Ignis in the mid-section, and he felt it make contact as he saw Ignis twist and fall. He went down with a pained grunt, and landed in an undignified heap.

Gladio backed off, grinning to himself, and rested the tip of his sword on the ground while he waited for Ignis to get himself back up. Gladio had been caught by the whole offering his hand out to help and getting a knife against his throat for his trouble trick only once, and he wasn’t falling for it again for as long as he lived.

Ignis sat up, and started to clamber to his feet, and then he let out a pained yelp as he put his weight through his right foot in the process of getting up, and immediately sank back down to the floor. Gladio dropped his sword in an instant, letting it clatter to the floor as he went down to Ignis. “Shit, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ignis answered, still short of breath. “It’s my ankle.”

“Let me look,” Gladio said, already crouching down and placing his hands on Iggy’s leg.

“Gladio,” Ignis protested, but it was a weary protest, and he sat on the floor, stretching his leg out in front of himself for Gladio to examine. Gladio unfastened his laces and eased the shoe off as gently as he could manage, but he still noticed the wince from Ignis as he did. “It’s fine,” he said, “the endorphins will hit soon and I won’t feel it.”

Gladio examined the ankle anyway. There wasn’t any swelling yet; it was too fresh for that, but it didn’t seem to hurt much when he poked and prodded at it either. It wasn’t until he flexed Ignis’s foot that Ignis hissed again. “It’s just a sprain,” he said, sounding relieved himself at that news.

“I know,” Ignis answered, looking at him over the top of his glasses.

“You should put it up and ice it,” Gladio advised.

Ignis kept that level look fixed on Gladio as he answered, deliberately, “I know.”

“You’re a know-it-all,” Gladio countered, with a grin. He stood and offered his hand out to Ignis, who took it and used Gladio as an immovable object to haul himself up against. His body undulated as he pulled with his arms and pushed up with his good foot, keeping his injured one off the ground.

“Would you believe I know that too?” Ignis asked, flashing Gladio a smile that made Gladio’s skin feel warm in ways that had nothing to do with the work out.

“Now you mention it,” Gladio replied, teasing ever so slightly. It was worth it for the smile and the life that danced in Iggy’s eyes when he did. The guy didn’t have many friends, as far as Gladio could make out; his life pretty much revolved around Noct in ways that not even Gladio’s own did. Gladio had made the effort to get to know him out of necessity, but then he’d discovered that under the primly dressed taskmaster that was always on Noct’s case while simultaneously mothering him, was a funny, caring, smart guy that was as lethal with bad puns as he was a kitchen knife.

He took Iggy’s wrist and pulled it over his shoulder, tucking himself in close against Iggy’s side. Ignis bit his lip, looking down at his feet as Gladio slung an arm around the back of his hips, and steadied him. “I’ll drive you home,” he said, tugging Ignis close enough that his skinny frame was all but tucked under Gladio’s own arm.

Ignis swallowed, and gave a small hop on his good foot, testing Gladio’s hold on him along with his own balance. “Thank you,” he said, softly.

Chapter 2: The second time Gladio carried Ignis

Ignis slipped into the training room quietly. Normally arriving early gave him an opportunity to watch Gladio and Noct in action. Although action wasn’t, strictly speaking, an accurate descriptor of what he usually saw. What he usually saw was Noctis sprawled across the floor, and Gladio standing, patient but slightly triumphant, with his broadsword hefted in one hand. He was usually a little sweaty, by now, breathing harder, and his skin aglow with the faint glimmer of his exertions.

Ignis knew he really shouldn’t take such opportunities to ogle the only other friend he had, but he found himself as weak to the temptation of such an enticing view as he was to the alluring scent of a freshly brewed cup of Ebony in the morning. So he arrived early, and kept out of the way so that Gladio wouldn’t have chance to notice the fact that Ignis could never take his eyes off the play of muscle in powerful shoulders.

The last time he’d been present for the end of a session Gladio had pulled his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his brow, and Ignis had been afforded a lengthy gaze at the man’s stunning abdominals. It was an image Ignis had preserved, and tucked neatly into one corner of his mind to be reviewed at his leisure later.

It was with some degree of disappointment that he entered the training room to find Gladio and Noctis mid-debate.

“If you wanna build that muscle mass,” Gladio was saying, poking a finger into Noct’s scrawny chest and making their joint charge wince and step backwards, “you should too.”

“Am I interrupting?” Ignis asked, putting his briefcase down by the doors and announcing his presence.

“No,” Noct answered, folding his arms across his chest and trying, poorly, to hide that he was rubbing where Gladio had poked him. “The big guy’s just telling me I need to lift like he does.”

Ignis considered that statement and gave a murmur of agreement. “Upper body strength training is vital for the weaponry you wield, Noct.”

“That’s what I said,” Gladio said, a smug grin crossing his face that Ignis wished was less attractive. No one should look attractive when they were being smug, and yet, Gladio’s appearance caused the universe to bend in such a way that he was attractive even when he was being insufferable.

“You said,” Noct retorted, “that you could bench press Specs.”

Ignis’s eyebrows raised and he gave Gladio a considering look. The man at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed by his boast. “I said,” he defended, “that you won’t be able to swing a broadsword like me until you can bench press Specs.”

Ignis folded his arms and kept his eyes on Gladio. “That sword weighs much less than I do,” he said.

Gladio shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not the weight; it’s the control of the movement. Getting it moving is one thing, but controlling it once it is? That takes more.”

“I knew he couldn’t do it,” Noct declared, smugly.

Gladio rounded back on Noct, mouth open to counter when Ignis said, simply, “He probably could.”

“See.”

Noct took a step back and fixed the pair of them with a challenging look. “Probably isn’t the same as can. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Ignis saw the way Gladio turned to him out of the corner of his vision and answered before he could speak. “No.”

“Come on, Iggy,” Gladio pushed, halfway to pleading but not yet with enough dignity on the line to go all the way.

“I’m not dressed for it,” Ignis pointed out. He was wearing the suit sans jacket outfit that he defaulted to for work.

Noct looked unbearably smug. “I wouldn’t let him drop me, either,” he said, as if he was backing Ignis up.

Ignis looked from the smug triumph on Noct’s face to the silent plea on Gladio’s and felt his resolve crumbling. He could never resist that look on Noct’s face, but something about Gladio’s amber-brown eyes were just the right shade for an effective puppy dog look, and the wordless statement that his pride was on the line was the clincher. Ignis had his loyalties, but when given the choice between a smug Noct or a smug Gladio, he’d take a smug Gladio any day. “Oh, very well,” he sighed.

Gladio all but jumped, his hand pumping into a fist before he moved to drag a bench away from the wall. Ignis shook his head before crouching to unfasten his shoes and slip them off.

“You sure about this?” Noct asked.

Ignis glanced at him and removed his glasses, folding them up neatly. “Anything to wipe that look off your face,” he replied, before thrusting his spectacles at Noct. “Hold these, and don’t get fingerprints on them.”

Gladio lay down on the bench. It wasn’t designed for this, of course, and the bench was thinner than was really ideal, but it would suffice for a demonstration. Ignis stepped up onto the bench, his feet between Gladio’s open thighs, and looked down at Gladio. “Ready?” he asked.

“When you are,” Gladio answered, looking up at Ignis in a way that made Ignis swallow.

“Give me your hands,” he commanded. Gladio raised his hands up, obvious hesitation on his face, and Ignis took them both and laced their fingers together.

“You sure about this?” Gladio asked, his voice an undertone that wasn’t meant for Noct’s ears.

With their hands firmly entwined Ignis carefully moved his feet, placing and balancing his weight on the tops of Gladio’s thighs. “How certain are you that you won’t drop me?” Ignis asked. Bent as he was, all of his weight balanced on Gladio as it was, Ignis felt almost thrillingly vulnerable.

“Completely,” Gladio answered, his eyes locked on Ignis’s.

“There we are then,” Ignis replied. He took one more moment to visually check Gladio’s grip on him, and the placement of his feet before he said, “Just remain as steady as you can.”

Ignis closed his eyes, and pushed with his legs. Gladio’s arms wobbled a little with the movement, but he did a commendable job at steadying himself quickly and taking Ignis’s weight. Ignis brought his feet up, Gladio’s hands tight around his own as he pressed all of his weight there, and used Gladio as his anchor point to pull himself straight. His legs rose over his head, toes pointing for the ceiling, back ever so slightly arched while he found his balance and maintained it. Only then did he let himself open his eyes again. He found himself looking directly into Gladio’s, who himself seemed half stunned at the display, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Got your balance?” he asked, swallowing, but not taking his eyes away from Ignis’s.

“Yes,” Ignis answered. He could feel Gladio’s every breath causing slight movements, every muscle tremor running through the pair of them. It felt strangely intimate to work so thoroughly in tandem. He’d never placed such absolute trust in anyone before, and yet it felt as natural here as breathing.

“I’m gonna go slow, okay?” Gladio said, his eyes still fixed on Ignis’s. For a moment nothing else existed; not Noct, not the bench, not the room around them. There was just Gladio, and every pulse and flutter of his body sending ripples through Ignis’s own. Then Gladio raised him up, inexorably slowly, until their arms were fully extended. Ignis was held there for a second, looking down at Gladio’s brown eyes for a count of one, before he was slowly lowered back down, closer than he had been before, close enough to share breath, where he was held for another second and then lifted slowly back into the air.

Gladio stopped after he’d lifted Ignis into the air five times, and Noct began to applaud. “If the Crownsguard doesn’t work out for you, you can always join a circus,” he said.

“Little shit,” Gladio grumbled.

Ignis flashed Gladio a smirk, and winked at him. “Hold still,” he said.

Gladio did as he was told, and Ignis brought both of his legs over the top of his head, extending one foot down as slowly as he could, curving his back as much as it would go until his toes touched the bench above Gladio’s head. He brought the other foot down to join the first, and felt Gladio push his arms upwards to help him right himself as he released his hands.

Noctis stared. Gladio sat himself up on the bench and turned to look at Ignis, his face slightly flushed.

“When you can do that,” Ignis said, idly tugging his sleeves straight as he addressed Noct, “then you can argue with Gladio about the type of exercise you should undertake, and not before.”

Noct grumbled, and Ignis heard a, “We’re not all overachievers,” muttered under his breath before he turned to go and pick up his things.

He shook his head, and made to step down off the bench when he found Gladio’s hand offered in front of him again. “Didn’t know you were that flexible,” Gladio said. Ignis took his hand and stepped down from the bench to the floor, trying to ignore how warm his own face felt. It was simply the exertion; it had to be.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Ignis replied, flashing Gladio a small, rather shy smile.

“What if I wanna find out?” Gladio asked, his voice low, and head tilted, making the question seem more intimate, more private than the setting allowed.

Ignis felt his throat dry out and his face heat up as he considered his possible replies to that question. He glanced sidelong at Gladio, feeling exposed, almost naked without his glasses, and said, “Then you’d have to take me for a drink

Chapter 3: The third time Gladio carried Ignis

He had to be here. He had to be safe.

“Ignis!”

Gladio ran through the streets of Altissia. Sea water still rained down where Noct’s fight with Leviathan had thrown it high in the air. Maybe it was sea water, or maybe it was just rain by now. There seemed to be so much of it, and Gladio had lost track of how long it had been falling.

They’d separated. They’d had to. Too many civilians, and too many MTs, and too much chaos. They’d sent Prompto to go and help Noct get to Leviathan, and then….

He’d lost track of Ignis. Now there was nothing but falling water and the dying embers of fires, and a shitload of dead MTs. It had Iggy’s handiwork written all over it, but there was no sign of Iggy.

Gladio’s heart was in his throat. Rubble and flames were everywhere, but there wasn’t a speck of Ignis. No glimpse of his loud purple shirt, no silver flash of gloves, no classy accented voice to be heard. He followed the trail of destroyed MTs until he found the end of it.

There were so many broken down robots. They had holes punched in their faces or their chests, slashes separated limbs and heads, all of it the brutal, efficient work of someone utterly lethal with a pair of daggers. But there were so many of them. How many more could there have been? What else might there have been? The Empire didn’t just use MTs, they had other things too. Giant mechs, and daemons among them.

“Iggy!”

He stopped, looking at the devastation strewn around, the scale of the fight that had gone on here, and saw him. A splash of purple against the grey and brown ruins of the area, spattered in mud, and blood. Unmoving.

“Ignis!”

He moved to run, and heard something broken tinkle under his foot. That simple, subtle noise sent an unpleasant chill down Gladio’s spine, and he stopped, and looked down.

It was a pair of spectacles. One lens was missing, broken into shards under his foot. The other remained in the frames, speckled with blood.

Gladio felt his heart stop, the whole world seeming to come to an utter standstill. Then it all came rushing back, the noise of the falling rain pounding in his ears along with his heart, the chill of the air, the scent of the sea and the fading odour of battle. He ran, long legs carrying him as fast as he could move them.

He skidded to his knees in the mud beside Ignis, the man’s name falling from his lips in a constant litany of repetition, like a prayer, like saying the name over and over again would protect him from whatever had already happened. “Iggy,” he prayed, voice quiet, and trembling like his hands as he gripped Ignis’s shoulder and turned him.

The sight made his stomach clench. The ragged wound where an eye should be, the cut over the other eye, and across his nose, and over his lip left Ignis’s face as ruined as Altissia itself. Gladio hurried his fingers over Ignis’s throat, finding the artery, feeling the pulse and thrum of life through it with relief. He didn’t allow himself to bask in it; Ignis was hurt, and just because he lived now didn’t mean he would continue to do so without help.

He rolled Ignis onto his back, and tucked his arm under Ignis’s knees. His other arm scooped around Ignis’s shoulders, and he lifted him up, holding him against his chest. He was a dead weight, unconscious, and unable to hold position in Gladio’s arms. Gladio had never moved something heavier. He adjusted his hold, making sure Ignis wouldn’t slip, and then slowly rose to his feet, carrying Ignis to safety while the remains of the sea fell down on them both.

Chapter 4: The fourth time Gladio carried Ignis

It was hard to take his eyes off Ignis. Ten years in the darkness had kept ten years of age off his skin, and in the warm light of day he looked even more beautiful than he had before they’d left Insomnia.

Especially now. Ignis wore a smile that flashed his teeth, and life sparkled off him as he held court with Cor and Monica, a drink in hand. He’d eschewed the visor for today, and he looked all the better for it, one clouded eye open, the other closed behind unhidden scars. His tailored suit showed off his shape without showing an inch of skin, and it made Gladio’s breath catch. Ignis had always looked good, and ten years of daemon hunting had left him leaner and firmer still. He was so strong under Gladio’s hands, so strong when he flipped Gladio onto his back at night and hummed the words, “My turn,” against his ear.

“You all right there, big guy?”

Gladio turned to Prompto, wrenching his gaze away from Ignis, and his beautiful laughter. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked.

Prompto patted him on the arm, all smiles. He’d kept the little beard he’d grown, but he was still too skinny, too blue-eyed, and too youthful to really pull it off. Or maybe Prompto would just always be that twenty year old kid to him, the one that had tagged along because he was Noct’s friend, the one that had given everything he had for Noct because of friendship, not duty. He’d gone through all the same shit Gladio and Ignis had, but Prompto hadn’t been born to it, hadn’t been raised to it; he’d chosen it, and he’d stuck with his choice through thick and thin. “Well, it wasn’t easy getting here.”

Gladio gave a huff of laughter at that. “That’s an understatement.” Ignis hadn’t made it easy. Gladio loved him, loved the very breath of him, but Ignis was so damned practical. He’d said no the first time Gladio had asked, saying it was too soon, with everything that had gone on. He’d accepted the second time, but had said the actual day would have to wait. They were busy; they both were. They were rebuilding a country, not merely a city. There was infrastructure, housing, amenities, all of which needed rebuilding, and hospitals to set up. Ignis had become the Ambassador to Accordo out of necessity; they just didn’t have enough people to send anyone else to do it, and Gladio, working with the Hunters to transfer their ad hoc security set up into something resembling law enforcement, couldn’t be spared to travel with him. After months at a time apart in the darkness, they’d spent yet more months apart in the aftermath, helping to rebuild the world Noct had saved.

But Ignis was back, and the world was starting to tick along, slowly, not without faltering, but it was progress, and they had finally, finally been able to set a date.

“You know,” Prompto said, his voice conspiratorial as he gave Gladio a nudge with his elbow, “if you slipped away together now, no one would blame you.”

Gladio eyed Prompto, considering that option. The kid was probably right, too. They’d been waiting so long for this, absolutely no one would blame Gladio if he and Ignis slipped away now. Except Iggy, anyway. Iggy probably wanted to enjoy the party they’d worked so hard for.

But he could make it up to Iggy. He had time now to make it up to Iggy. That was the whole point.

Gladio drained his wine in a few mouthfuls and set the empty glass down on a table. “See you tomorrow,” he told Prompto.

Prompto laughed. “Not early, I hope.”

Gladio grinned and amended the statement. “Maybe see you tomorrow.”

Prompto laughed harder at that, and Gladio left him behind, cutting his way across the room towards Ignis with purpose. Cor stepped aside as he approached and slipped his arm around the back of Ignis’s waist. He didn’t need to announce his presence for Ignis to know it was him; Iggy’s hearing was that sharp he probably heard Gladio’s heart beating in his chest from across the room. “Gladio,” Cor said, the smile looking foreign on his face and there was a warmth to his voice that suggested the Marshal had been drinking, “congratulations.”

Gladio still wore his grin, and it broadened. Ignis settled in against his arm as if he belonged there, his shoulder pressing in against Gladio’s chest as he let Gladio tug him in towards him, ever so slightly. “Thanks,” he said. “About time, right?”

“You did have us wondering,” Monica said.

“The Marshal was just telling me about the time he found you trying to swing your father’s sword,” Ignis said, amusement across his features as he turned his face towards Gladio.

Gladio wanted to lean down and kiss him. He could bend him back, and kiss him like his life depended on it, like there was no one watching. He had half a mind to do it despite the audience. He also wanted to crawl into a hole at those words. “It was bigger than me,” he defended.

“So is the one you use now,” Ignis pointed out, a teasing smirk on his face. Gladio itched to kiss it off.

“Yeah, but I’m bigger now, too,” Gladio countered.

“Don’t we know it,” Cor said. “You’ve always been determined to get what you want, no matter how much work it takes you to get there.”

“Just one of the many things we have in common,” Ignis said, with a smile.

Gladio looked at him, and gave in to temptation, pulling Ignis in close and tight against himself as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ignis’s cheek. He looked so beautiful, and so alive, Gladio just wanted to hold him forever. “I can think of a few others,” he purred, his voice low, and enticing.

Gladio saw it. That flash of colour in Ignis’s cheeks, the way his teeth grazed over his bottom lip just briefly. “It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” Ignis protested, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“It’s your wedding night,” Cor said, “don’t mind us.”

He was already retreating, Monica by his side and flashing Gladio a thumbs up as she moved away. “You heard him,” Gladio said, “that was practically an order.”

Ignis sighed, and reached up to stroke an ungloved hand over Gladio’s cheek. “I suppose,” he conceded, after a moment’s indecision. “We have waited more than long enough for today.”

Gladio grinned, all teeth and victory, and then he bent to scoop Ignis up into his arms, sweeping him off his feet bridal style.

“Gladio!” Ignis yelped, half outraged and half off-guard. “Put me down!”

Gladio looked around the room, at the assembly of their friends, all of whom were now looking in their direction. He adjusted his hold on Ignis, who was trying to squirm his way back to his own two feet, hoisting him higher up. Ignis wrapped his arm around Gladio’s neck at the movement, holding on. “You’re spending the rest of the night on your back,” he said.

“Gladio,” Ignis hissed, “you’re making a scene.”

“Then let’s make it one to remember,” Gladio answered, before he tugged Ignis in enough to steal a kiss from him. Cheers and applause rippled around the room, and Ignis’s face began to flush from the attention. Gladio watched him, for a moment, youthful, and embarrassed, and yet with a fond, shy smile on his lips. Then he gave their audience a nod before he carried Ignis out of the reception and to their long overdue appointment with the honeymoon suite.

Chapter 5: The fifth time Gladio carried Ignis

“Leave that.” Warm hands wound their way around Ignis’s waist, exerting the smallest amount of force, tugging him gently back, away from the sink. Rough stubble and soft lips pressed against his cheek, Gladio’s breath brushing over his skin as he settled his weight against Ignis.

“If I don’t do it now they’ll be a bugger to clean in the morning,” Ignis replied, scrubbing the sponge over the tongs he’d used to prepare dinner.

Gladio growled, low and intimate down Ignis’s ear. “So leave them to soak,” he said, pressing another kiss to Ignis’s cheek, moving nearer his jaw, “and I’ll do them in the morning.” His lips brushed against the side of Ignis’s throat as he purred against his skin, “Come to bed.”

Ignis sighed, as if he was being put upon, and Gladio worked his mouth just under Ignis’s jaw, making him tilt his head back so that Gladio could properly reach to plant his kisses there. One of the arms around his waist moved, taking hold of his elbow, and turning him slowly in Gladio’s arms, away from the sink. Then Gladio’s mouth descended on his, soft, and sweet, and achingly affectionate.

Ignis kept his hands out of the way, dripping with soap suds as they were, and returned the soft press of Gladio’s lips with his own.

Time had changed them. It had changed them both; their appearance and their habits. Ignis couldn’t see what Gladio looked like now; his hair shorn shorter, long enough still to run his fingers through by a small margin, his beard a little longer than it used to be. Gladio had pondered shaving it off, and Ignis had begged him not to, unable to conjure any image of Gladio without it.

The hard muscle and firm lines Ignis had learned with his fingertips and his mouth had faded and softened over the years, age and good food doing their work to weather them both, like pebbles in the sea. Their edges had been worn down by the tides of time, but Gladio was still solid under his hands, and his kiss was as gentle as it had ever been. Gladio’s pectorals were softer than they used to be, the hard lines of his abdomen faded away, but Ignis could still feel the muscle move under Gladio’s skin. The rippling contours of Gladio’s arms had softened too, still strong, but Gladio was no longer the twenty three year old he had last seen. Nor was he the thirty five year old Ignis had married.

Gladio pulled away from the kiss, and Ignis got the impression he was being studied. He opened his eye to find the world was filled with the shadow of Gladio’s presence, and a large hand, softer now than it had been when Gladio wielded a sword to defend the lives of others, brushed up and over his cheek, settling back under his ear. “I love you,” Gladio said.

“I love you too,” Ignis replied, keeping his face upturned to where he knew Gladio’s was.

The thumb stroked over his cheek again. Over his scarred one, brushing over the etched lines of long ago battles as if Gladio didn’t even see them any more. “You’re still as beautiful as the day I married you.”

“You’re biased,” Ignis replied, quirking an eyebrow and fixing Gladio with an amused purse of his lips. He heard, very faintly, the way that Gladio’s lips separated in a smile at the answer, and he heard the slight way it twisted the words as he spoke.

“You’re still as beautiful as the day I fell in love with you.”

Ignis kept his eyebrow raised, and pushed it a little further at the comment. “You can pinpoint the day?” he asked, skeptically. He couldn’t, himself. He could pinpoint the timeframe that he’d realised he was in love, but the day he’d fallen? The day his heart had carved Gladio’s name across itself, permanently etching the other man’s existence into it? No, that one eluded him.

“The first time we made love,” Gladio answered, stroking Ignis’s cheek again. “Not when we’d fooled around, I mean the first time we actually made love. I woke up next to you in the morning and decided I never wanted to wake up any other way again.”

Ignis felt his insides soften, like melting ice cream, and he closed his eyes and dipped his head. He remembered waking up next to Gladio the first time, back when there was Noct to consider and tend to, their King-to-be little more than a bratty teenager in need of the firm hand of guidance. He remembered waking up next to Gladio the first morning they’d had sex, awkward, slightly uncomfortable sex, filled with kisses and nervous laughter and failed attempts because it was the first time either of them had done this. He’d watched Gladio for several minutes, hair mussed on the pillow, eyes closed, long lashes resting against his cheek, and his arm draped across Ignis’s waist as if he couldn’t bear not to be touching him even while he slept.

“I remember,” he whispered.

Gladio’s fingers tucked under his chin and lifted it up, and Ignis tilted his head back as Gladio’s lips brushed against his again. Gladio’s tongue licked out, running over Ignis’s lips, and Ignis parted them, meeting Gladio’s tongue with his own in soft, gentle brushes and presses.

“Happy anniversary,” Gladio murmured against his mouth. “Will you come to bed?”

Ignis let Gladio kiss him a little longer, the press of his lips and tongue, the soft, slow movements of them together lighting fires in his chest. “All right,” he answered, against Gladio’s mouth.

Gladio’s mouth retreated, his warmth leaving Ignis for a moment, and then suddenly there was a pressure at the back of his legs, and his shoulders. The world tipped, and Ignis lost contact with the floor, and yelped. “Gladio!” His husband gave a small jump, Ignis felt, for a second, as if he might be dropped, and then Gladio’s arms around him were solid, his legs dangling in midair. “I haven’t even dried my hands!” he complained, through a laugh.

He was tipped, carefully, slowly, towards the counter. “To your left,” Gladio said.

Ignis reached out, gingerly feeling the counter top, all sense of his position in relation to it, and the items thereon lost. His fingers brushed over cloth, and he picked it up, and dried his hands before discarding it back towards the counter, unheeding of where it might land. Then he looped his arms around Gladio’s neck. “You’re ridiculous, you realise?”

Gladio made a dismissive noise. “Yeah,” he agreed, “but you love me.”

“How fortunate for you.”

Chapter 6: The one time Ignis carried Gladio

Gladio rode ahead.

Somehow that fact felt like Ignis’s only tether to the real world right now. The car moved, and he could feel the movement when they stopped at lights, and then started again, but otherwise the ride was smooth, and utterly silent. Ignis clasped his stick in both hands. He’d gone years without needing it, but he still used it in new places sometimes, and this was one occasion where he didn’t want to risk a stumble.

Gladio rode ahead.

Ignis kept his face turned in that direction. He didn’t know if he wished he could see or not. He’d wished it, many times over the years. He’d wished he could see the soft lines forming on Gladio’s face, the years of laughter and tears etching their story into his skin, into the skin of them both. But the Gladio that he remembered, the Gladio that lived in his head, would always be twenty three, full of the vigour of youth, the confidence of duty. He’d never bear those lines, or the changing hairstyles Gladio had worn over the years since.

The car came to a standstill, and a moment later the door opened. Ignis clambered out, a guiding hand that wasn’t Gladio’s settling itself under his gloved one and showing him the way. He stood upright, eyes closed, stick in hand, listening to the dignified bustle going on around.

Footsteps approached, and Ignis turned his head. “Hey.” Ignis recognised Prompto’s voice, and the quiet solemnity of it. “You ready?”

Ignis forced himself to smile. “As I will ever be,” he answered.

A hand fell to the small of Ignis’s back, guiding him gently. Ignis went, allowing Prompto to guide and aid him now as he had done once, long ago, when his blindness was new. He’d felt lost, then. He felt lost, now, and Prompto’s hand was a comfort he remembered all too well.

“Just here.”

Ignis turned his face out into the void where he could hear people, low mutterings he paid little attention to. “Someone take this,” he said, holding his stick out.

Someone did. A female voice that Ignis recognised as Freya, Prompto’s youngest daughter, Ignis and Gladio’s goddaughter, said, “I’ve got it, uncle.” Ignis gave her a nod.

Behind them there was a soft count, a one, two, three, and then a shuffling of feet. “Okay,” Prompto said, taking Ignis’s hand, and guiding him to step back. Prompto led his hand upwards, and Ignis followed the movement until his hand reached something solid. “Just here. You got it?”

“Yes,” Ignis said, softly. He placed his hand underneath the object, stepping in close until it was over his shoulder, almost brushing his cheek. Then he placed his other hand against it, and bowed his head.

“When you’re ready,” someone said.

Ignis gave a nod, and swallowed. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t cry. He’d shed tears enough these last few days, but now it all seemed too real and yet unreal at the same time. He took in a shaky breath, steeling himself.

“Onward,” he said, managing to keep the tremor out of his voice.

He kept a firm hold on the coffin as he and Gladio took the first step on the last journey they would ever make together.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #my fic #AO3 crosspost #five times gladio carried ignis #gladnis week #gladnis

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sentinelkelly · 7 years ago

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Destiny 2: Curse of the Butthurt Man-Children Review

Destiny 2 has been in trouble for awhile now and despite what the crying man-children on Reddit, Twitter, Facebook, the Bungie forums and the hack of journalists from Kotaku, Forbes (lol did I really include them?), IGN, and Polygon, I strongly believe Destiny 2 is getting better in some aspects and worse in others. I still believe this game have great potential in the future, but for Destiny 2 to be great, Bungie needs to be less reactive and beat the community to the punch, sort of speak. More on that a little later. Let’s get on to my blasphemous opinions.

The Story

The Curse of Osiris story reminds me of Call of Duty: Black Ops III’s story. Let me explain before you get triggered: The Call of Duty, in my opinion, always had a great story despite how you felt about the multiplayer and it’s community. When I played Black Ops III’s campaign, I couldn’t help but to be lost in the plot and be almost put to sleep. The plot was convoluted and had too much filler content that further added to my confusion. This is exactly how I felt playing Curse of Osiris’s story. Although people think the story was pretty fast, I beg to differ. It took me about 4 hours to complete, excluding getting distracted by Public Events and in real life stuff. Then again, I wasn’t speed-running. Maybe that’s why, but it was definitely longer than the Dark Below which a lot of people forget about. Bungie squandered a perfect opportunity to effectively use the Osiris lore.

At the same token, Bungie opened the door to expanding the Osiris lore (besides a webcomic) and revealing some Saint-14 lore. I would also love some Dredgen Yor lore at some point too. Time well tell how much more lore we’ll get and of whom.

Eververse

Dear Lord... I hate the fact that the loot pool is so large and RNG is still what you expect from a Destiny game. If I had to pick which is worse between Treasures of Ages and Illuminated Engrams, I wouldn’t answer because there is no lesser of the two evils. Although, at least I get the armor in Destiny 2 while I still haven’t get a single piece of AoT armor for any character on Destiny 1... on Xbox and PS4.

At the end of the day, her wares are still optional, cosmetic to a certain extent, and not game breaking. That’s all I truly ask for in microtransacions. You can make the argument that the Ghost Shells increase xp gains, points out nearby chests and all that jazz. Then, I’ll rebuttal by calling you a retard and ask a simple question: “How does differ from other Ghost Shells and how does it give you an unfair advantage in the Crucible?” Basically, the only people who still hates Eververse are unlucky like me, poor/cheap people and conspiracy theorists that think Bungie is intentionally making her stuff look better than the non-microtransaction gear. Stop being poor. Taste is subjective.

Mercury

It’s a very small area that I would’ve forgiven if you could freely explore the Infinite Forest, Past Mercury, and Dark Future Mercury. However, you can’t. You can only replay the story missions and adventures to go to those places. Not to mention there’s only one Lost Sector. There’s enough space for at least three. Mercury was over-hyped. The Infinite Forest was filler. More could’ve been done.

Despite that, the visuals are beautiful as always. Past Mercury gives you a sense of peace and serenity while Dark Future Mercury makes the atmosphere more grim and dire. Also, doing Flashpoints on Mercury doesn’t require to actually do a single Public Event. You just have to kill majors that are running around the map.

The Leviathan Raid Lair

I have not played it yet, but I heard great things about it. It’s a shame that Bungie advertised it as just a shorter version of the current raid with different bosses and mechanics because I had low expectations and now I think I might be in for a great time.

I’ll update more when I can finally play it.

#TwoTokensAndABlue: Public Events were Nerfed

So much with being rewarding. Less xp gains, lower probability getting exotics, and quite frankly more of a reason not drop everything to go do one.

The Current State of Crucible

Crucible is still like listening to music on Spotify without premium: You gotta play until you get the gametype you want or keep backing out until you get the match you want. There are also no signs of old Destiny 1 game modes returning and the current ones being separated.

At least, we get to tell future Kinderguardians that for a weekend, the Destiny Community was able to play a large game of laser tag and then there’s the return of Mayhem Clash. MC is the only thing making PvP worth play to me.

Armor Ornaments

I’mma just say it: Most of the ornaments makes the armor look ugly and/or are uninspired. Above all, I’m extremely disappointed with Future War Cult’s. All it does is change the color scheme to white and blue. That’s it.

I do like the fact that you can unlock ornaments account wide. For example, unlocking the Crucible Titan Mark ornament unlocks the Crucible Hunter Cloak and Warlock Bond even if you never played on the other characters.

“Heroic” Strikes

Oh boy... Where do I begin? I was very excited about this. A good percentage of my Destiny 1 playtime was shutting my brain off after a long day and running Heroic Strikes if I liked the modifiers. Destiny 2 said, “Why don’t I just take Vanguard Strikes, raise the power level and call it Heroic Strikes? That’s it!” Bungie did say that they will add modifiers, but two things: 1) Why didn’t you just wait? If it’s incomplete why release it now when you could do so later complete? 2) I hope the modifiers aren’t the Destiny 2 Nightfall modifiers. Please God no.

The Vault System is Still a Mess

Imagine every single file on your computer was on your desktop. No folders. Just right there in front of your face. On top of all that, you can only have 200 of those files on your computer before you have to start deleting stuff. That’s where we’re still at. Not to mention you can hold up to 50 different shaders on your person, yet Bungie decides to make more than 50 unique shaders. It gets better: Duplicate Dawning shaders will sort into separate stacks depending on where they were received from. Dawning shaders received through Eververse will fall into one stack, and shaders earned through activity rewards will be sorted into another. This is not a bug and was intentional. On top of all this: no increased vault space, shader kiosk, or mass deletion option.

Prestige Mode Locked by CoO-Paywall

It seems like the less you invest in Destiny 2 (monetary-wise and in playtime), the more your opinion matters somehow in comparison to actual dedicated fans of the game. The whole issue was that people who didn’t owe the DLC, can’t play the 330 version of the Nightfall & Leviathan Raid due to vanilla players not being able to reach the new level cap. Trials of the Nine was also blocked. Note: Normal Mode was bumped up for both the Nightfall and Raid so you can still reach 305 playing those. Trials ALWAYS required people to have the latest DLC and patches. Hell, Nightfalls got the same treatment in Destiny 1, and mind you, there was only one difficulty. The only people that were angry were the disgruntled Destiny 2 players who stopped playing a long time ago and/or already owns the DLC. Trust me, if you’re a hardcore fan of Destiny or remotely likes it, you would’ve made arrangements to get the DLC. Don’t come at me with that “I love the game, but have no money” bullshit. This was all a case of “What if my friend buys Destiny 2 and I can’t play with him/her?!” Um... tell them to buy the game used/on sale and the DLC? Maybe you could buy it for them so you can play with them? Gee, this is a difficult situation I’ve never been in.

Trust me, no one who hasn’t bought Destiny 2 at this point won’t buy it because of all of the ruckus this community is making. Due to Bungie getting cuck’d by a bunch of poor people who don’t even play their game anymore that complained about a theoretical situation, the first Faction Rally of Season 2 was postponed to I assume (I hope) at the beginning of 2018.

Quality of Life Updates Frequency

I remember a time Bungie was constantly adjusting things like the economy and user interface on top of tuning weapons and subclasses, squashing bugs and things of that nature. Destiny 2 received its first Quality of Life update in December on the day of this DLC’s release. Yeah, Bungie fixed stuff here and there between vanilla Destiny 2 and Curse of Osiris releases, but there was the over abundance of legendary shards some people had to deal with, shitty RNG not giving people what they want, etc. that was just improved. The difference between patches and QoL updates to me is one fix problems and the other improves on what was working fine but can be frustrating. There is less of the latter.

The State of the Destiny Community

Everything that I’ve stated thus far is forgivable. However, Destiny 2′s state of being the target of hit pieces of gaming media and butthurt “fan” backlash is 10% Bungie being reactive, 10% Bungie making dumbass decisions, 80% self-proclaimed fans having buyer’s remorse. Destiny 1 was considered an abomination of game around this time last year for whatever dumb reason people came up with. Destiny 1 was shitted on repeatedly. Now all of a sudden, people love and miss Destiny 1 so much. It was the community’s constant bitching that made Destiny 2 the way it is. Bungie had to find a way to not repeat Destiny 1, but guess what... people flipped flopped. Ask any Destiny fan how they felt about Destiny 1, I guarantee all will praise it, but half of them were singing a different tune last year. Destiny 2 and Curse of Osiris is the community’s fault. Bungie had some part in the blame, but: 1) Me and every other non-Bungie employee don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors at the studio in Redmond, WA. 2) If anything, blame the leadership at Bungie. Why are you getting mad some artist or sound engineer. They don’t program the game or have authority to do whatever they want to the final product if it’s outside of their department.

We are the point where people constantly complaining about bullshit like optional microtransactions and plays other games are considered “concerned fans.” Meanwhile, people like me who are objective, still actively plays the game despite it’s current state, and can compliment game when something is done right gets accused of being on Bungie’s payroll. The toxicity of this community reached heights I never thought possible and it makes me cringe to be an actual fan sometimes. Not to say I’m an angel, which I’m not, but at least I provide constructive criticism to Bungie and lash out at little Jimmy who claims to hate the game so much. I’m against people who insist upon passing on their misery onto other people who are actually enjoying the game. I’ve looked on GameStop’s app and Destiny 2 is worth between $12-18. I can recommend better games for that price. If you have Destiny 2 on disc and are that dissatisfied with it, I challenge you to sell it. If you have it digitally, I’m sure you can get a full refund somehow. I challenge you to get that refund. A reasonable adult, tries to get their money back and move on. If you don’t at least try, you’re full shit.

Bungie’s only unforgivable sin is giving birth to a community of entitled ingrates.

Final Verdict: 7.75/10

This could’ve been better and it could get better in 2018. However, out of the gate... it does not live up to the hype.

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny 2: curse of osiris #curse of osiris #review #bungie #activision #fanboy alert #mercury #eververse #leviathan #raid

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kiwi-le-survivant · 7 years ago

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Kiwi-Le-Survivant’s Best Games of 2017 Post

I bought a PS4 this year, which means I was actually able to play five new games this year. It’s my hope that people will actually enjoy reading my thoughts, and soon I’ll be able to rival The Game Awards and announced Halo 6 or something right in the middle of my posts. Let’s jump right in.

Top 5 Best Games I Played That Came Out In 2017:

5. Tekken 7 - You know, I think I prefer Tekken to Street Fighter now. Although that might be a combination of me being slightly better at the former, coupled with Capcom having no idea what they’re doing lately. As shallow as it sounds, I think a big reason I love this game so much is the novelty of both a Capcom and an SNK character guest starring in a Tekken game.

Not as big on Noctis, though. I was hoping for either Kazuma Kiryu, or another fighting game rep. Although I guess you could argue Noctis represents Dissidia.

It’s at the bottom because the other games are so good. I hope they keep adding more content beyond what’s already planned.

4. Danganronpa v3: Killing Harmony - Apparently opinions on this game are mixed among DR fans, mainly related to the ending. Personally, I liked the ending, and I feel the rest of the game is pretty much in line with the first two in terms of quality. I’m a fan of the new mechanics, like Debate Scrum and Psyche Taxi. The soundtrack is really good, too. I think everyone can at least agree this is a memorable game.

3. Yakuza 0 - I haven’t finished this one yet, but I’m told it’s a fantastic entry point if you want to get into this series. This is one of the few games I can think of where I actually willingly did sidequests, because a lot of them are actually funny, and even heartwarming.

2. Persona 5 - My most anticipated game of 2014, 2015, 2016 and 2017. I’m a big fan of Persona 3 and 4, and I feel this game is just as good, if not better. I greatly prefer the Tokyo setting to the rural setting of Persona 4.

From the art style, to the setting and music, P5 oozes style out of every orifice. In fact, you could make a case for it being one of the most stylish games of all time. I thought for sure it would be number one, but one game managed to top it.

1. NieR: Automata - I heard this game actually sold really well, and that’s great news. Imagine telling someone that the sequel to NieR would outsell the newest Mass Effect. It’s amazing what an extra layer of polish and removing or altering some of the more tedious aspects of the first game can do.

Honestly, I’m bad at explaining why the game is good. Just play it. I genuinely believe it will go down as one of the greatest JRPGs of all time, and that Yoko Taro can and should be thought of as the next Kojima. If you dismiss it as a Metal Gear Rising/Final Fantasy rip-off that relies on fan service, well, your loss.

Did I mention that both NieR games have strong contenders for best video game soundtracks of all time? It’s true.

This is pretty long, so I’ll include the rest of the awards under the read more.

Top 5 Best Games I Played That Came Out Other Years:

5. Kid Icarus: Uprising - I haven’t played this as much as I’d like, but I’ve greatly enjoyed what I have played. I don’t even really mind the controls, really. I haven’t used the stand yet.

4. Gravity Rush - I started playing this game a few weeks ago, and I already love it. Kat is one of the most likable protagonists I can think of. She should be Sony’s mascot. In all honesty, this is one of the most fun open world games I’ve played. The only thing I’d say is lacking is the combat, but it’s manageable.

3. Va11 Hall-A: Cyberpunk Bartender Action - A game about mixing drinks and talking to people, while trying to save enough money to avoid getting evicted. There are multiple endings, too. The one I got really got to me.

2. NieR - I’d hate to say it, but for the longest time, the only thing I saw related to the game was the Zero Punctuation review, and I wrote it off as generic based on that. Thankfully, a few friends heavily recommended it, and since Platinum were doing the sequel, I figured “alright, I’ll check it out.” It turns out, generic is probably the worst word to describe NieR, and Yahtzee is an idiot.

NieR is a rough diamond, similar to Persona 3, or the original Yakuza. A game that has more than its share of flaws, but its originality makes up for them. The gameplay is, well, it’s no Bayonetta. It’s not even DMC1, but it’s there to serve the story and characters, which I found myself getting attached to.

I’d recommend playing this before Automata, if you have a say, but it’s not 100% necessary, and Square Enix could have made that option easier, so it’s up to you.

Check out @thathomestar‘s post about it, too.

1. Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc - I knew of this series by reputation, and it seemed like the fanbase overlapped a lot with other things I was a fan of, but I got spoiled on who the lead villain turns out to be years before I played it, and I thought some of the character designs looked unappealing, so I wasn’t sure how much I’d enjoy it.

It turned out, I enjoyed it a lot. It scratches the same itch as Ace Attorney for me. I like the characters a lot more now that I actually know more about them. Funny how that works. Except Hifumi. He looks awful, and is awful.

The second one is probably better in many ways (especially the protagonist), but I feel the first game has a certain humility to it. I get the sense that the developers didn’t think it would take off as much as it did, and some of the rough patches kind of add to its charm. I also think the ending was originally planned to be more ambiguous.

Also, I made at least one friend while playing this game. That’s a plus.

Top 5 Games I Want To Play But Never Got Around To:

5. Cuphead - I felt kind of bad for not having any western games on the last two lists, so here we go. Cuphead looks pretty fun, and I really respect how much effort and creativity went into the game’s visuals. It reminds me a bit of Skullgirls. Sadly, I don’t have an Xbox One, and I doubt my PC could handle it.

4. Sonic Mania - Like Cuphead, this is another labour of love. It was really nice to see people being positive about Sonic again for a few months. Then Sonic Forces came out, but oh well. In a similar vein, I’m also interested in the Crash N-Sane Trilogy, but since Sonic Mania is a new game, it gets the edge.

3. Super Mario Odyssey - Looks really fun. I’ve never played either the Galaxy games or 3D World, but from an outside perspective, Galaxy and Odyssey look like a lot more appealing to me than 3D World. Sadly, I don’t have a Switch.

2. NioH - I suck at Souls games, to be honest, but I find this game’s concept very interesting. I think I’d be into in a Souls game where I can play as an actual character, and not just a blank slate.

1. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild - Nintendo has impressed me this year. I think this is the first time a 3D Zelda game and a 3D Mario game have come out the same year. I like this game’s art style, and I’m told it’s a breath of fresh air to a formula that was getting stale. However, no Switch, and no Wii U, either.

Top 5 Most Anticipated Games of Next Year:

5. Kingdom Hearts III - Yup. This is definitely coming out next year. Always bet on Sora.

4. Red Dead Redemption II - I was kind of burnt out on open world games, but if this is even half as good as the original, it’s pretty damn excellent.

3. Dragon Ball FighterZ - I loved Dragon Ball Z as a kid, and if this game came out when I was a kid, I would probably say “holy shit!” and also “who’s Beerus?” I think this has the potential to make Arc System Works a big name with mainstream audiences. Then maybe we can get a Persona 5 Arena with graphics like this.

2. Yakuza/Hokuto no Ken thing - I never read much Hokuto no Ken, but this looks amazing. Right up my alley.

1. Soulcalibur VI - I just really love fighting games, man. There arguably hasn’t been a great Soulcalibur game since SCII, in 2003 (2002 if you only count the arcade release), so I’d love to see this series make a comeback. Put Cassandra in it.

If Devil May Cry V were announced, it would automatically be at the top of the list, but sadly, no. As for Bayonetta 3, I don’t think it’s coming out next year. With that said, while I don’t have a Switch, Bayonetta 3 is potentially a system seller for me.

#Kiwi's GotY Awards #NieR #Persona #Danganronpa #Yakuza #Other things

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8bitsupervillain · 7 years ago

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The Disappointments of 2017: Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony

Ha ha, wow this was a massive disappointment let me tell you. It is so very rare that I encounter the latest installment in a series that completely, and utterly retroactively kills a series for me. The last thing that did that was Burial At Sea part 2, but wow I did not expect it was going to be this game that made me re-experience that sheer gut-wrenching awfulness. Please be warned, there are spoilers after the break.

Before I get into my complaints I will now list for you the things I like about Danganronpa V3. The music is great, I adore just about every song that is in this game, Let's Killing is one of my favorite tracks with the Scrum Debate being a close second. I liked the twist when Kaede Akamatsu was revealed to be the killer in Case 1, it was effective. That's it.

Let me get this out of the way first, it is not entirely because of the plot twists of Trial 6 that caused this. It is but a major, major, MAJOR factor that led to this being such a vile and loathsome letdown. I started having some doubts about how this game was going to stick the landing as early as Case 3. Shinguji killing Yonaga, and Chabashira just so his dead sister he was in love with could have friends started to strain credibility.

Case 4 when Iruma gets killed with toilet paper in a virtual world and then it transpires that the "school" was in fact a rocket ship meant to take these sixteen kids AND ONLY these sixteen kids to a new world, added to the strain. Although I kind of took the notion of there being a virus from meteors to be a nice little nod to the Zero Escape series, even if it wasn't actually a reference.

Case 5 when Oma is somehow able to write a script for how to act like him for Momota, even down to how THE REST OF THE CAST WOULD RESPOND TO HIS STATEMENTS was what tipped this over the edge. It was fucking ridiculous and I hated damn near every aspect of this fucking case and EVERYTHING THAT FOLLOWS IT. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Let's rewind my complaints to when it transpires that Oma is in fact a secret traitor whose betraying everyone because of the notion that Earth is uninhabitable. Fine, whatever, people can be pointless dickheads at the best of times. Maybe he got his personality re-written with the flashback light, fine, that's fine. Why would the people of Earth go out of their way to hunt down the Ultimates when it's suggested that they're what would fundamentally save mankind? Why would they try to hunt them down to kill them? Why is this plot-point just a rehash of Hellstar Remina (a fascinating manga, it's worth checking out)? Did Oma somehow find out about the fact they're on the fifty-third Danganronpa season?

I hate it when stories try to pull the "everyone loves this character so you do as well" card. Despite everything the game tries to do I just cannot bring myself to care about Kirumi Tojo. She was a flat, uninteresting character, her being the secret prime minister really doesn't add much to her character because it's brought up roughly ten seconds before she dies anyway, and never gets into the ramifications of this plot development. I also felt that the game tried a bit too hard to get me to care about the fact that Yumeno and Chabishira were going through a rough patch and Yumeno was spending time with Yonaga. With the exception of the pivotal characters every other character felt flat and really underdeveloped. Amami could've been a decent character had he not died in the opening hours of the game, he could have been a decent posthumous character. Gokuhara was uninteresting and ridiculously one-note, and Hoshi was just an utter black hole of a character.

Even a fair amount of the characters who make to chapter five are uninteresting. K1-B0, despite being the hero of this story has pretty much no character until he becomes a danger to the rest of the cast in chapter 6. His plot reveal that he's basically the cameraman for the events adds nothing to his character. Harukawa is perhaps the single worst character in the entire game however, they basically play her as a Kirigiri type of character with absolutely none of the redeeming characteristics of such a character. It would've been more interesting if she actually did deal the fatal blow to Oma, but I guess she had to live for reasons.

Then of course we arrive at Chapter 6, the denouement to everything this game has been building up to. The interesting characters are dead, and we're left with what we have left. Saihara, Yumeno, Harukawa, K1-B0 and Shirogane. And of course Monokuma and the Monokubs. The chapter starts, and K1-B0 has started using his upgraded weapons that Iruma gave him (or had in her lab) and is now set to tear down the Ultimate's Academy. Fair enough, a final thing to drive forth the fact that the cast is in a bad-way and they'll all die unless they can solve the mystery. This is also unfortunately where the game decides to dive into batshit lunacy. As you're investigating to find out the truth about the Academy you find several clues about the whole "the class was shot off into space to save humanity" thing. You find the room where "the cryo-stasis pods for their journey are," and you find a document that puts forth the notion that Akamatsu has a near-identical twin sister who might be roaming the halls. This is all a smokescreen of course, because when it comes time for the trial it comes to light that his has all been an elaborate con.

The class was never shot into space, there was no viral outbreak, the Ultimates Academy was simply the latest group of teenagers for Danganronpa season number 53. Everything that has transpired has simply been a televised event and none of what happened was real. There's some revelations that the personalities of every single person taking part in the show has had their actual personalities over-written by the flashback lights that the cast has been routinely subjected to over the course of the game to "give them back their memories." Which is a lie, the personalites are apparently just something that Team Danganronpa have cooked up prior to the events of the game.

On the face of it I don't have a problem with the notion that the game was all a big ruse. It's the way the game conveys the twist and everything that happens in this trial that I find to be a huge slap in the face. There's a point around the end of chapter five where the game cuts away to some random person named Makoto. Makoto, you see is a bit of a lonely boy, he has seemingly no friends, his school life is in pieces, and it all seems gray and grim for him. But he has one thing that makes himself feel better: Danganronpa, the one thing that gives his life meaning. And this is you, the audience who buy and play these games, and it illustrates just how little they care about their actual audience who buy these games and play them.

The whole entire ending, the last two hours or so of this trash fire is more or less a prolonged "you need to get a life, Danganronpa is shit and bad and you're just as bad for liking it. Fuck you." The ending is a complete slap in the face and just utterly ruins and destroys everything this whole franchise had built up until now. It is a complete and utter insult, and frankly it killed this series for me. It rates up there in the pantheon of abysmal and shitty endings. For all the shit people like to throw at Bioware for Mass Effect 3's ending at least it never outright insulted you for liking the games up until that point.

The fact the game goes out of its way to invalidate the previous entries in the series is just disgusting. See Danganronpa 1, 2, Ultra Despair Girls, never actually happened in the universe of Danganronpa; they were merely seasons in the “Danganronpa show.” Any stakes the series could have been building up to is null and void after this revelation, and as such any investment on your part is simply a waste of time. Then there’s the fact that the game deliberately goes out of its way to point out several plot points that it will never bring up again is just a cherry on top for wasting everyone’s time.

It mentions the notion that the personalities everyone has is in fact fake. Including Shirogane’s personality, the person the game assures you is the mastermind behind this particular game. It’s never elaborated on that she is in fact just a pawn in the greater scheme of things. Ha, whoops she’s dead now, smashed by a rock, oh well! It’s implied at the very start of the game that the kids used in the game were in fact actually kidnapped to be in Danganronpa V3. Whoops, the plot point’s been lost and will never be revisited.

This is all while the game is just throwing out its arm patting itself on the back for how brilliant and great the writing is. It’s annoying, and loathsome and a complete and utter insult to everyone who gave a shit about this series.

"It wasn't their intention, Kodaka said so." I don't care, I'm quits with this series after this game. What a shame.

#Danganronpa V3

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hkdroids · 7 years ago

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To the Creators of ME:A

Putting this out there for the creators of MEA: I loved MEA. I loved getting into a bar fight with Drack, and how fatherly and sympathetic he was with Ryder. I loved Liam's loyalty mission. I loved Peebee, and Lexi and Vetra. I loved how Gil got so overworked he started writing bad poetry, and I love that he left a fake list of everyones poker tells to throw everyone off. I love that Jaal is the one to finally beat him. I love Kallo and Suvi, and her rock licking habit. I loved Vorn, and overhearing his conversation about creating a new hybrid whose latin name means "murder potato". I loved Voeld, it was so beautiful. I loved SAM (despite his more annoying habits). I love the combat system, especially as a biotic, Jumping into the air, selecting a target and charging at it. I love Aegis, and being able to grab an enemy and throw them at another enemy. I love exploring in the Nomad, and the conversations the squad has in them. I loved the mission with the first baby born in Andromeda, and shared Vetra's reaction to it.I loved Kesh, and her ways of pissing of Tann and Spender. I felt so sad for Avitus finding out his boyfriend died trying to get to him. I loved the first contact with the Angara, and the Remnant, it was something that the original Trilogy didn't have: Discovering the prothean ruins and making first contact with alien life. I love the Tempest's design and how the galaxy map worked giving you the impression of actually traveling through space. And I loved the final chase in Meridian, where everyone you've helped comes together to help get you to the Archon and your sibling. I loved this game, despite its animation flaws which are now mostly gone, just like I loved ME2 despite the weird animations and odd lighting thing that made everything either orange-red or completely dark. And like the games of the original trilogy, I will play Andromeda again and again. I know popular thing is to hate on Andromeda, and to dismiss all I loved about the game, all the good times, serious times, the laughs the tense moments with the general "The characters are bland/animation sucks/its just a terrible game etc." just doesn't do this really good game justice. Maybe its only because I played it after it was patched, but, I still really enjoy this game, and I thank the team that made it. I don't know, maybe people just hate it because its the popular thing to do, or because they had high expectations where as I went in with none. But I feel like the others who loved this game too may feel the same way. As I said before, I'm putting this here in the hopes that the team will see it, and I know the vitriol filled comments are coming. And I don't care, I'm not going to read them, or react. I've said what I wanted to, and I am sad that the series will not continue. Thank you BioWare for this severely underrated game - Sincerely, A proud fan of The Mass Effect Trilogy, And Mass Effect: Andromeda

#n7 day #mass effect #mass effect: andromeda #me:a #bioware

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enrychan · 7 years ago

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comparison mass effect andromeda / dragon age 2, yeah or nope? i hear that a lot around the fandom

short answer: nope

extremely long answer [lots of MEA negativity and Personal Opinions™ under the cut, you’ve been warned. Please don’t read if you enjoyed the game and/or you are tired of hearing negative things about it, believe me i totally understand the feeling]:

alright i’m not going to act like DA2 wasn’t disappointing because yes, it was. especially after a game like DAO which remains among the best RPGs i’ve ever played. so I would compare MEA to DA2 because they are both disappointments. that said, i still disagree with the part of the fandom that says they are similar because of the “smaller story” and/or “the focus on the characters”. DA2 is a smaller story than DAO, but it’s laser focused on the delivery of that story within a three chapters arc, and through its characters. Exploration is almost non-existent and the fetch quests are few and so unimportant you can skip them without missing anything. The companions are the true narrative and emotional center, and each one of them has a personal mission during each one of the three chapters of the story. Some of them (especially Anders and Fenris) represent a piece of the problems and politics of Thedas and force Hawke to make decisions regarding those problems. Their growth and fate depend almost entirely on their relationship with Hawke and on the choices of the player.

On the other hand, MEA is all over the place. it gives me a number of huge maps filled with nothing but fetch quests that don’t make the narrative proceed in any way and are entirely forgettable. The game also gives me a humongous researching/developing system for weapons and armor with an absolutely ridiculous and confusing as hell UI, which requires three different currencies (milky way tech, kett tech, remnant tech), that you have to collect by scanning things, just to research the projects for said weapons and armor, not to mention the materials to actually build the fucking things - which come in like six or seven different levels, so if you want to update your weapon or armor to the next level you have to gather the materials all over again. That’s insane. At some point I just skipped that mess altogether and went through the rest of the game with my shitty level 2 gear because i was sick and tired of scanning and gathering and researching just to discover lately that i didn’t like how my new weapon worked and i wasted time for nothing. Obviously that meant the combat was much harder for me than it needed to be. There is a more in depth analysis on the researching/developing system in this review, if you��re interested. I’m not going to delve into the ridiculous implications of having to scan the rebels’ tech on Kadara to get milky way tech currency, like on the Nexus they don’t have, I don’t know, archives or books on their own technology?

I’ll also add that while the combat is probably the best part of the game, and it’s much more dynamic than in the trilogy, it’s still much less fun for me because they took away the option to order your companions to use a certain power, preventing me from planning any tactic or combo. this also had the side effect of creating another layer of separation between my Ryder and her companions; like there weren’t enough already, with the mediocre writing and everything else going wrong in this game. Basically I always fought like I was alone and most time i actually was because my two companions were KO and i didn’t care, as they were almost useless to me.

I should probably add that the quest design in MEA is atrocious, the worst of every bioware game i’ve played - and i played most of them. for almost every mission i was required to go to a certain planet, than back to the ship, than back to a planet, then back to the ship… each time going through unskippable cutscenes and loading screens. Luckily for me when i played the game they already patched the galactic map, letting me skip the cutscenes of the voyage between planets, which are very pretty at first but at the fifteenth time they start to really grate on your nerves. And despite the patch, the voyage is still very slow compared to, say, ME3. I cannot even imagine the pain of the day 1 players who were forced to suffer through those unskippable cutscenes hundreds of times. Some missions (the worst ones imo) require you to follow a signal through more than two solar systems, reading a series of five or six “false positives” or whatever, before finally finding the “real one” and conclude the mission; an utter pain in the ass and a complete waste of time. I understand that MEA had huge problems during its development, but this kind of stuff has nothing to do with those problems and everything to do with artificially extending your gaming time with boring activities, just to say that the game is “100 hours long”.

At this point I want to make clear that I would have forgiven everything - the fetch quests, the confusing crafting system, the awful quest design - if Bioware gave me a good protagonist and/or interesting companions. Not even a good story really, I didn’t even care about that, just give me a fully flashed out crew with clear motivations and backgrounds and I’ll be happy. That’s basically the reason why I forgive every shortcoming in DA2 - and there are a loooot of those. But nope, Andromeda fails there too.

With the exception of Jaal and to a lesser extent, Cora, the loyalty missions of the companions are completely disjointed from the main story and universe in which they are set and don’t make us understand more of this new galaxy in any way. This lack of relevance would still be ok if the relationship between the companions and the protagonist and/or the protagonist’s choices actually mattered (like in DA2, where the companions’ loyalty determines who lives and who dies in the end) but unfortunately they don’t, and i mean at all.

Speaking of the protagonist, again the comparison with Hawke doesn’t hold. Hawke could have three very distinct personalities which made them somewhat memorable, for good or bad. Ryder on the other hand has two or more kind of replies that are almost always the same, just with slightly different wording (as this video says: do you know the difference between “now we are building again” and “this is vital to our progress”? - not that i agree with everything said in that review but here i agree completely). Ryder fares even worse if compared to other bioware protagonists like the Warden, who had a wide range of reactions that in some cases could even include outright killing their interlocutor. Combine this with the almost complete lack of choices and/or consequences in MEA and you get the most forgettable and boring protagonist of a bioware game to date; and yeah, I’m including the Inquisitor, because while the choices of dialogue in DAI were similar to those in MEA, at least the facial animations were decent so you could have a connection with your own protagonist on some level.

To be clear, it’s not lost to me what the original intention was with Ryder’s character arc. Ryder is specifically written as inadequate, uncharismatic and sometimes incompetent, because they weren’t the intended heir to the title of Pathfinder. They kinda found themselves thrown into that role and had to adapt. On its own that’s not a bad character arc at all. On the contrary, it could have been even more interesting than Shepard’s, who was a leader even before the first mission in ME1. Unfortunately there is no actual character arc for Ryder, only premises. Ryder never becomes more charismatic or assertive during the story, in fact they make very few choices at all, and even those few have little to no consequences both in the main story and in their relationships with the other characters. Ryder is just kinda there, reacting with various shades of tone to other characters actually making choices. Again compare that to Hawke’s arc, since we are discussing whether or not the two games resemble each other. In DA2 there is a simple premise (Hawke is a poor refugee who runs from the Blight and has to survive in an unforgiving city like Kirkwall) and a very clear payoff (Hawke becomes one of the central political figures in Kirkwall, while ironically still not being able to save their own family and, possibly, friends). With Ryder there is a clear premise but no payoff. At least not on a personal level, which is important in creating a connection with our character. Of course the story goes on anyway, but it doesn’t seem to actually affect my protagonist or change them in any way, so it remains almost irrelevant to me.

Everything said until now would be already experience breaking on its own, but it becomes even more remarkable in Ryder’s specific case, because Ryder comes with an extra passenger, aka SAM - and SAM is a very invasive extra passenger. To the point that most of the time you’re convinced it’s not actually Ryder the one in charge of that brain, or of the Pathfinder team. 99% of the time it’s SAM who solves problems and tells you and the others what to do. Sometimes is becomes frankly annoying. I’m not even talking about the vaults. You have to solve a murder case? SAM doesn’t just gather the evidence, oh no, he also tells you exactly what the evidence means and how it must be interpreted, like Ryder is too stupid to connect the dots. You intervene in a beating or a robbery on Kadara, either to stop it or just to understand what’s going on? SAM tells you not to get involved. And guess what? Ryder does exactly that, instead of, idk, telling SAM to shut the fuck up? SAM also becomes downright unbearable on Voeld and on Elaaden where it keeps telling you that the temperature is rising or falling or that it’s within acceptable range. I don’t know if they finally patched the thing but god was that annoying.

In any case my point is, since it’s actually SAM and not Ryder that does all the work, you have the distinct feeling that you are not actually the protagonist in this story, just a vessel. That could have been a cool premise if, for example, Ryder leaned too much on SAM and then halfway through the story it was taken away or shut down. That could have been a dramatic moment of growth for Ryder, where they were forced to finally rely on their own strenght and actually become the Pathfinder humanity needed. But again: cool premise, no payoff. SAM is taken away only near the end of the story and Ryder almost dies because of that. And even when they can’t access their SAM during the final mission, there is still the SAM inside the other Ryder sibling’s brain to tell them and you what to do. In short, Ryder is almost entirely dependent on SAM throughout the entire story, making them even less memorable as a protagonist, if possible.

Unfortunately, the same could be said of most of the characters that populate Andromeda and particularly the Tempest. Jaal is relevant only because he is an angara, the only new friendly species introduced in MEA (another disappointment), but he is otherwise completely forgettable on his own. It’s repeated over and over again how the angara have an extremely open behaviour towards each other, expressing feelings without many constraints like we do, but the problem is, without good and complex facial/body animations, that kind of behaviour is hard if not impossible to deliver. I think that’s one of the main problems with Jaal’s character. The other main problem is of course the writing, always generic and kind of vague. For example when you ask him about his relationship with the Moshae, he tells you that she “inspires” and he “loves her”, but he doesn’t give you anything that actually communicates that inspiration and that love, even only through the tone of his voice (has anyone given some direction to these voice actors?). It’s only telling without showing. Compare that to Dorian talking about Felix, for example. With just one image (Felix sneaking him treats from the kitchen while he was studying) he gives you an idea of both the person that Felix was and his relationship with him.

Cora is similar to Ryder in the fact that her character has good premises, but no payoff. She has two main character traits: she was trained as an asari commando and has great admiration for them; and she was the second in command under Alec Ryder, so she should have become the Pathfinder, but she didn’t. Aside from the fact that in my opinion she repeats that she was trained as an asari commando a little too many times, like she wanted to be 200% sure we got the message, and that becomes kind of annoying after a while… if we take a look at her character arc we see that there is a great disappointment when she finds out that the asari heroine that she admired the most lied about the death of the asari Pathfinder for her own personal gain. This should have set in motion a series of consequences on her character journey similar to those Liara experienced when she found out that the Protheans weren’t actually the ethereal, moral beings she thought they were, but instead they were conquerors and imposed a totalitarian regime on the galaxy. But while Liara at first gets angry and sad and then she slowly accepts to re-examine her own previous work under a new light, no relevant change can be seen within Cora’s character. More on this comparison can be found in this excellent video. In a similar way, her other main trait (the fact that she was the designated successor to Alec but she didn’t get the Pathfinder title in the end), also doesn’t have any payoff. In fact she is just slightly disappointed/irritated at first but she gets over it very quickly (even if Ryder is clearly not the charismatic figure humanity needs) leaving little to no consequence on her relationship with Ryder. In these conditions, the scenes in which she talks about her hobby ring hollow because I didn’t previously build my relationship with her on anything substantial, so I don’t really care about her plants.

I’d say the only companion who gets a very simple but complete character arc is Peebee, because she starts as kind of an outsider in the group, extremely afraid of commitment (the writers made sure it was super obvious with the “I live in an escape pod” thing), and in the end she learns to relax a little and trust Ryder and the rest of the crew more. Unfortunately I also found her annoying as hell since her first appearance, so that didn’t do a thing for me.

I could go on with the other companions, but this reply would become a bible. I’ll just add that the “good premises - no payoff” thing includes non-companion characters as well, Reyes for example. For the first 40/45 hours I didn’t romance anyone because, well, I found every possible LI either boring, paper thin or annoying af. That’s something I never experienced in any other Bioware game, but hey there’s a first time for everything I guess. Then I went to Kadara, I met Reyes and honestly he was a breath of fresh air. I’m not saying he was particularly deep or complex, but at least he was somewhat charismatic and charming (also, that accent), so I decided to romance him. Unfortunately both his character and his romance get no satisfying closure, as there is literally no change whatsoever, external or internal, if you let him kill Sloane; and you can’t really confront him on the fact that he used you and lied to you, even if you romanced him so it should have been kind of a big deal. bigger deal. whatever.

I’m not preteding that something like this never happened before. Speaking about the Mass Effect trilogy, Jacob is the most infamous example of boring, not entirely flashed out companion. Moving to the most recent Dragon Age, I’d say Blackwall also suffers from something similar, since he has good premises (she is vague and evasive at first because he’s lying about his true identity) but little payoff (even after the big reveal he remains pretty vague and generic about himself and his own story, nor he behaves even slightly different than before), though he’s still more interesting than the majority of the MEA crew. The point is, some shortcomigs are normal and expected and, if counter-balanced with other high points, they can be forgiven. But Andromeda didn’t shine in any way. Outside of combat the gameplay was boring and clunky, basically go from point A to point B, scan stuff, gather stuff, repeat. The sudoku puzzles were boring af and honesly ridiculous. No one ever solved them before you? is everyone in the Heleus cluster a moron?

In fact, the whole foundation of the story is that no one in the Heleus cluster could gain access to the vaults and activate them, despite having known and studied them for centuries. One day a complete stranger from another galaxy comes and solves everything in literally five minutes. And I’m supposed to believe that. I mean my suspension of disbelief can stretch a lot, but this is a little too much for me. Also that makes the angara seem like a bunch of idiots, which is not exactly flattering for the only new friendly species we meet in Andromeda.

The writing in general is poor to say the least. I understand that the writers were included too late into the project due to the huge problems experienced during the earlier stages of development, but some of these mistakes are super basic, like writing from the POV of the omniscient narrator instead of the POV of the characters. So we get dialogues in which the characters know that they are in no real danger even though they have been shot, they are about to get shot, they risk getting spaced, and so on and so forth.

I get that the writers were aiming at something completely different from the grim, fatalistic atmosphere of ME3, but the problem is: if the script doesn’t take itself seriously, why should I take it seriously.I mean I’m all for jokes and lighthearted moments, there were a lot of those in the trilogy and i loved them (most of them), but the entire MEA script doesn’t seem to take itself seriously. The stakes SHOULD be high - the Pathfinders have the responsibility of 100.000 souls on their shoulders - but not for a moment you feel that burden, that responsibility.

Even the real reason of the voyage itself (escaping the Milky Way before the Reapers annihilate every advanced organic society) is kept secret from the player until you gather all the “memory triggers” your father left behind. Until then the whole Initiative - a huge, extremely dangerous and exceedingly expensive project - is presented like a fun stroll through a new galaxy, just because “we are explorers” and we like new beginnings and whatnot. This is another incomprehensible narrative choice that doesn’t make sense, no matter how you look at it. If you played the trilogy, the Reaper threat is certainly no surprise to you so the “plot twist” doesn’t work. If you’re a newcomer to the series you don’t even know what a Reaper is so the “plot twist” still doesn’t work. Not to mention that for some reason Alec Ryder’s “memory triggers” are scattered on planets he never even visited in his life. Instead of placing them somewhere among his things, idk, family pictures, books or music he loved, where it made sense to find them?

And even after you discover everything about the Reapers, and that everyone back in the Milky Way may have been dead for the last 600 years, there is again no consequence in the story or in the dialogues whasoever. Not even Ryder seems to be particularly affected by the terrible news. But we should be happy because we found out that their mom is still alive! Too bad we don’t care about her because we don’t know her. Exactly like in the beginning we didn’t care about Alec’s death because we didn’t know him. Those are extremely basic narrative mistakes. The whole experience is on this same, boring, safe, non-consequential level. Bioware is so much better than that.

(sorry for the long rant. I had a lot to say)

#MEA negative #MEA critical #enry replies #sorry for making you wait so much and also for the super long reply I'm so so sorry #i even derailed a lot from the actual topic whoops #mass effect is important to me ok

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waiting4morning · 8 years ago

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Fic: Where We Begin (Jaal/Ryder)

Title: Where We Begin Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda Rating: PG-13ish for alien nudity Pairing: Jaal/SisRyder Summary: When Jaal gets sick, Joan Ryder learns that being his partner involves a type of intimacy she didn't expect. Notes: Shameless fluff, Spoilers for Jaalmance and minor plot up to Elaaden.

Thank you very much @quinzelade for being a stellar beta for this fic! (Especially since you don’t even know the game yet!)

Link to FF.net

Their first day on Elaaden was draining. Joan’s hardsuit seemed to absorb all the heat, making her feel sluggish and sticky almost as soon as she stepped off the Tempest. Jaal and Liam didn’t seem much better, their usual friendly banter devolving from monosyllabic replies, to grunts, and then long stretches of silence.

They drove around in the Nomad—which soon began to feel like the inside of a boiling kettle—trying to scout out locations of the monoliths, but also to get the lay of the land closer to the krogan colony. Drack had tipped her off to make her presence known outside the colony first so word would spread she was on the planet. Krogan didn’t like to be surprised; especially by the Initiative.

“Shade!” Jaal’s voice sounded eager for the first time that day. “Darling one, shade!”

Joan glanced to the side, seeing a dark patch of the hardy red scrub grass and, miracle of miracles, several of the spindly trees waving in an unseen breeze.

“I see it. Want to take a break?”

“God, yes,” Liam said. “Though you’ll have to peel me off this seat first.”

SAM registered the temperature change as soon as they pulled under the overhanging trees. Joan hopped out, enjoying the breeze on her face. It was still too hot for comfort, but at least the shade gave a break from the punishing sun.

Liam and Jaal squeaked their way out of the Nomad. Both of them were damp with sweat and Joan left the doors of the Nomad open to air it out.

“Vault’s gotta be first priority, Ryder,” Liam said, taking a gulp from his canteen. “With any luck, Elaaden will turn into Voeld.”

“Wishful thinking,” Joan sighed, leaning against the front tire and trying not to squirm. There was sand in her… everywhere. “You know that even Remnant terraforming doesn’t seem to work that fast. Even if it did, Elaaden is tidally locked to its sun. It’s always going to be daylight on this side.”

“Let a man dream, Ryder.” Liam found the densest patch of grass and laid down, eyes closed.

Joan wandered over to Jaal sitting hunched under one of the trees, eyes also closed. He looked paler than usual, or was it just the sun and shade playing tricks on her eyes?

As she stood there, waiting to be noticed, he coughed, a deep rattling sound in his chest.

“Hey,” she said. “You okay?”

His eyes popped open, fully dilated. “Joan. You startled me.” He glanced away, then back. “I am fine. Just… it’s the dust and sand. I’m not used to the climate yet.”

“Yeah, me neither,” she said, sitting down next to him. Jaal’s expression softened when he looked at her, and she couldn’t resist giving him a quick kiss. Their relationship still thrilled her. The simple idea that she could kiss Jaal and he would reciprocate, and that she could talk to him about anything and he wouldn’t reject her was still something that amazed her.

Jaal sighed when she leaned against him. “Even kissing isn’t as fun when it’s this hot.”

“We’ll head back to the Tempest for dinner and sleep,” she reassured him. “I don’t think I trust any food here yet, and I need a shower that isn’t going to cost me two thousand credits.”

Jaal kissed the side of her head. “You are my favorite, Joan. Say it again.”

Joan laughed. “Say what, that we’re going back to the Tempest?”

“Again,” he rumbled.

“We’re going back to the Tempest.”

“Mmm… again.” He began kissing her again, his mouth moving from hers to the hollow of her neck, just above where her underarmor protruded above her chestpiece.

Joan’s breath caught. “We’re... going back to... the Tempest.”

“Oi, love birds,” Liam said, sitting up. “Shuttle coming in at our six. Probably not friendlies…?”

“SAM?” Joan stood, watching the dark speck grow larger.

“The incoming shuttle was at The Paradise and is not registered with the Initiative or any of our allies, Pathfinder. I recommend preparing for a fight.”

“I thought those scavs were eyeing the Nomad a little too hard,” Liam said, dashing to the Nomad for his helmet and tossing Joan’s to her.

Gunfire splashed around them, throwing up sand and dirt. Jaal flung himself behind the one small boulder next to the trees while Liam and Joan took cover behind the Nomad.

”I’m going to try a singularity,” Joan yelled into her comm as more bullets pinged against her shields. “Cover me!”

“Roger that!”

“Acknowledged!”

Liam lobbed a grenade and Jaal sniped the closest raider, distracting them from Joan who came out from cover to focus on her target. She inhaled deep, concentrating on the tingle of dark energy racing through her bones. Her biotic corona erupted over her skin and she twisted her arms, her vision blurring as she performed the mnemonic—

Gunfire spat nearby and Jaal cried out. Joan’s aura flickered and died as she turned toward him.

“Jaal!” Liam shouted.

“I’m fine!” The angara said, coughing again. “Just a scratch. Go!”

Only reassured once she saw his rifle go up again, Joan refocused and a moment later a singularity burst into being above the rocks the scavengers were hiding behind.

Breathe in… Joan sent a shockwave following the singularity and the resulting explosions shook the ground. Jaal and Liam picked off the few stragglers while Joan blinked away black spots in her vision.

“Pathfinder, you need to replenish your fluids and electrolytes,” SAM said in her ear. “The extreme temperatures of Elaaden combined with use of your biotics will drain your strength quicker than you are used to.”

“Eat more, drink more. Got it.”

Out of the corner her eye, she thought she saw Jaal limping toward the Nomad, but when she popped her helmet, he was checking over his rifle, looking like nothing was wrong.

“Jaal?” she said, heading over to check on him. “You said you took a hit? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, darling one.” He frowned as he examined his gun, taking a part out and blowing on it. “Sand is going to ruin this gun if I’m not careful…”

She had no choice other than to believe him. He didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere that she could see, and his motions seemed smooth.

“Joanie, this one of those those fancy augmentations you’re always going on about?” Liam said behind her, tossing a small object her direction. “One of the raiders had it on his armor.”

Still focused on Jaal, Joan didn’t turn in time and it bounced off the side of her head.

“Ow!”

“Whoops.”

Joan bent to pick up the augmentation and made a face. “Looting, Liam? Really?”

“Hey you can throw it out into the desert if you really don’t want it,” Liam said with a grin. She sighed and pocketed the device like he knew she would.

Joan hoisted herself back into the Nomad and rooted around in the rations stash for the nutrient drink Cora recommended as a good biotic supplement. She downed most of it while Liam and Jaal climbed into the Nomad.

“I think we’re pretty close to the first monolith,” Joan said, squinting at the map display on the dashboard. “You two ready for Remnant?”

A pair of simultaneous grunts sounded from the back seat and she sighed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Pathfinder.”

Joan jolted awake at SAM’s voice in her head and groaned as she looked at the clock beside her bed. She’d only been asleep for three hours.

“What is it?” she groaned. “The ship better be on fire or something.”

“Cora and Liam are outside the door to your quarters. They wish to speak with you.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“It is a matter concerning Jaal.”

Joan frowned. “Jaal?”

They wouldn’t have come at this hour unless it was important. She sighed, sitting up on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes, then grabbed her brother’s hoodie that she’d taken from his locker on the Hyperion and pulled it over her tank top.

When she opened the door, Cora and Liam were similarly attired in sleepwear, though both of them looked hollow-eyed and exhausted.

“What is it?” Joan asked.

“Can’t you do something about him?” Liam jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I haven’t gone to sleep at all.”

“N-no one has,” Cora added through a jaw-cracking yawn.

Joan opened her mouth to ask what they meant when she heard it: a deep, wet hacking cough echoing throughout the ship.

“Is that… Jaal?” she asked after the coughing fit finally stopped a few seconds later.

“He’s been coughing since we got back on the Tempest,” Liam grumbled, scrubbing a hand down his face. “He won’t let Lexi in to treat him. I just want to sleep, Ryder… please do something.”

As if on cue, the coughing started up again.

“Alright,” Joan sighed and wearily climbed up the ladder so she could reach the tech room where Jaal had stored his bed. Lexi was indeed standing outside his door when she walked up, looking not a bit sleepy, though perhaps a little frustrated.

Lexi crossed her arms as Joan padded over. “He’s been coughing for over two hours. He won’t let me in to help him,” she said in a low voice.

“There’s a cultural taboo against illness among the angara,” Joan explained, also whispering. “I thought you knew that.”

Lexi frowned. “Well, I knew Jaal was sensitive about his physical and a bit shy, perhaps, but an actual taboo?”

“It’s considered private… like humans discussing... uh… sexual activity,” Joan tried to explain, though her own thoughts were still groggy. “Next time we go to Aya, maybe you can chat with the doctor there one on one and get more information.”

Lexi nodded, looking thoughtful. “I wish I’d known this sooner. It does explain a few things....”

“Do you actually have any medicine for him?”

“No, but I thought I might be able to help anyway, and determine if I did have something that he could take.” Her mouth twisted in frustration. “We are well stocked with treatments for battlefield injuries, but I should have taken illnesses into account as well. Sloppy of me, especially on a ship in such close quarters. Someone was bound to get sick sooner or later. I’ll remedy that next time we’re on the Nexus.”

“The decision to switch from Harry to you probably tossed a few things up in the air,” Joan said, shrugging. “Go back to the med-bay. I’ll talk to him, and if I can get him to come down, I will.”

“Very well. Good luck.”

Joan waited until she heard the medbay door close below before tapping on Jaal’s door.

“Jaal?”

“Darling one?”

“Can I come in?”

A pathetic cough sounded before answered. “I… I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Joan smiled. “Jaal, you’re sick. Please, let me help.”

Silence.

She waited, leaning against the wall, trying not to fall asleep until finally the door hissed open, and she was suddenly jolted awake at the sight of a completely naked Jaal.

Joan jerked her eyes up to the ceiling over the urge to look down and focused on his face: his miserable, beautiful face and downcast blue eyes.

“Jaal,” she said in as calm a voice as she could manage. “Why don't you have any clothes on?”

“The bed supposedly works better if there is no clothes between you and the ions,” he said, though he shivered and then glanced behind Joan with a furtive motion. “Is Lexi gone? No one else is here, are they?”

“No, just me.”

God, you’re testing me, aren’t you? She hurried in around him, grabbed a blanket from the nest he’d made on his bed, and threw it around his shoulders to cover up… most of him. As she did so, she noticed a scrape along his bicep that was crusted over with a dark blue scab and a darkening patch on his side. A bruise? There was also what looked like a bandage around his forearm that was stained with blue blood, and a scratch on his lower leg that looked like it was starting to get infected. At least, she thought that’s what the blue skin around a cut might mean.

“Jaal! You’re injured!” Then she realized what she was looking at. “You got these wounds in the fights today. Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you see Lexi when we got back to the ship?”

Jaal shifted, looking for all the word like a little boy with his hands caught in a cookie jar. “Because I thought if I went in for the injuries, she would detect my illness.” He mumbled the last, and ducked his head.

Joan tipped his chin up. “You are the most infuriating, adorable man, and if you weren’t so sick, I’d kiss you.”

That won her a soft smile.

“How long have you been sick?”

“I noticed a tickle in my throat a few days ago. I thought it would go away on its own.”

“When you were coughing earlier today… that wasn’t the dust?”

“No, darling one. Please forgive me for my deception.”

She took his hands. “Jaal… I’m not mad. I know this is a private matter for you, and I’m doing my best to understand. But… if you’re sick, I want to know. I would never have taken you groundside if I’d known you needed rest.”

Jaal looked horrified. “But I would have missed out on everything!”

She bit back a smile. “But then you also wouldn’t have to lie to me.”

He deflated, his eyes downcast. “I am sorry, darling one. You… you are right. I am not used to having someone to share these things with. I… I am happy that I can share them with you.” He looked up again, looking so vulnerable Joan’s heart went out to him.

“I’m glad you trust me enough to share this too.” She kissed his cheek. “Can we get some medi-gel from Lexi now?”

Jaal frowned and huddled under the blanket she’d thrown around his shoulders. “Do I have to, darling one?”

Joan tried very hard not to laugh at the pathetic tone of voice and the pleading eyes. “I think I have some in my cabin. Come on. I have an idea that might make you rest better anyway.” She took his hand and tugged him toward the door, then paused. “SAM, is everyone back in bed?”

“Kallo is at the helm running diagnostics, and Dr. T’Perro is in the med-bay. Otherwise, yes, Pathfinder. The path to your quarters will be unobserved.”

“Thanks, SAM. Okay now?” She directed this last at Jaal, and he nodded, relief evident on his face. They left the tech lab and padded softly down the dimly lit corridor. Joan opted to let Jaal down the ladder first since Jaal was still only clad in a blanket, and she was really trying her best to avoid ogling… all of him. Seeing him walk, though, made it clear that he had been hiding the extent of his injuries and illness. He walked with a slight limp, and even the short distance to the bathroom seemed to make him tired and wheezy.

Joan started the shower for him, setting it as hot as she thought he could handle and again, kept her eyes on the wall opposite as she took the blanket from him. He made a small noise as the water hit his skin, eyes closing.

“Better?”

He nodded.

“Don’t forget to wash those wounds. Medi-gel disinfects, but if there’s crud in there, medi-gel will only do so much.”

“I tried to clean them when we got back to the ship,” he said, “but it was hard to do without anyone seeing me.”

He bent—Joan whipped her head to the side eyes seeking something else to look at, anything—and then saw him stagger out of the corner of her eye. When she turned back, Jaal was leaning against the shower wall as if it was the only thing holding him upright..

“Got dizzy,” he mumbled.

Without a word, she stripped off her hoodie and sleep shorts, climbing into the shower with him in her tank top and underwear. He would never ask for help, not for something this private, this—to him—shameful. Calling Lexi to force him to med-bay didn’t even cross her mind. He needed her, and he didn’t know how to ask.

He looked up as she touched his shoulder, eyes dilating as he took in the tank top that was quickly soaked and clinging to her skin. She hoped the heat from the showers would excuse the blush she felt was taking over her whole face. But she would not let a little thing like embarrassment stop her from helping.

“Lean on me,” she said. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

Gently, as if he was afraid she might break, he did, resting one large hand on her shoulder, so he could reach down and lather the cut on his leg. Joan helped clean the scrape on his arm, and then directed him to stand in the middle of the hot blast of water.

“Breathe in the steam,” she said. “It’ll help loosen the tightness in your chest.” She exited the shower but stayed near, toweling off.

“Darling one?”

“Mm?

“Do you always shower with your clothes on?”

Somehow answering him was easier when he wasn’t looking at her. She tried to think about his perspective, how comfortable he always seemed in his own skin. “Nakedness is… private to most humans, Jaal. We aren’t as comfortable with bared skin. It makes us feel, um, vulnerable. It’s an intimacy committed partners share. Usually.” She hoped he didn’t ask her to explain locker rooms, strippers, or one-night stands—maybe she’d tag team Liam for that one.

“Oh.” He was silent for a moment. “Have I been… inappropriate?”

She smiled. “You have nothing to apologize for. We’re the visitors here, remember?”

“Still, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable.”

This man… Warmth flared in her chest that had nothing to do with the steam pouring out of the shower. Even sick and miserable, he still put her first.

Jaal coughed a couple of times in the shower, but it didn’t sound as rough as it had before. When she noticed he was starting to lean against the wall as if too tired to stand, she made him get out and gave him towels to dry off.

“Come to my room,” she said. “I’ll get the medi-gel.”

Towel slung around his waist, Jaal sat on the end of her bed, still looking a bit woozy, but his breathing sounded much easier. She applied medi-gel to his various scrapes, all the while aware of his gaze on her and her still damp clothes, though she thought there was more curiosity than desire. He was sick, after all.

“Darling one, can I ask you something…” He hesitated. “It may be inappropriate?”

“You can ask me anything you want,” she assured him, replacing the medi-gel applicator in the first-aid kit and wiping her hands off a towel. “I will do my best to answer without getting too embarrassed.”

“Humans and asari have breasts that are always… full,” he said. “Angara women have breasts too, but they are not full unless pregnant or nursing. When I first met you, I assumed you had children, though I quickly saw that was not the case. Is this… normal?”

Heat rose in her face and she crossed her arms over her chest, before realizing that probably made it worse. You did say he could ask anything, she reminded herself, and squeezed out her damp hair for something to do with her hands.

“Umm… well, scientists believe that full breasts is an… evolutionary advantage. We are more likely to be sought by a mate because we look fertile.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” He cocked his head. “I’ve made you uncomfortable again. Humans always seem… odd when sex comes into the conversation.”

“No. I’m fine,” she tried to reassure him. Biting her lip, she pressed on, sitting beside him on the bed, holding his gaze so he would know she wasn’t trying to hide. “I’m not quite ready for that level of intimacy, Jaal. I care about you a lot… but… “ She gestured to his wounds. “Just as you were reluctant to share your illness and injuries with me, sex isn’t something I approach lightly.”

Jaal nodded and was silent for a moment. “Is there anything you can share with me?” he asked in a hopeful voice. “Something you don’t share with just anyone?”

Joan opened her mouth to say “Not that I can think of,” but that would have been a lie.

“I… I can sing,” she said, almost whispering.

Jaal’s eyebrow ridges shot up in surprise. “You? Sing?”

“When my brother and I were little, Mom loved taking us to musicals as a way to get a break from the lab. I was obsessed with the old ones: Guys and Dolls, The Music Man, To The Citadel and Back, My Fair Krogan. I wanted to be a professional singer.” She laughed, self-conscious, but Jaal didn’t. His gaze was steady, curious, even though she belatedly realized that probably half of what she said made no sense through the translators.

“Why didn’t you?”

She shrugged. “In high school—when I was a teenager—we got career counseling. My father... “ She bit her lip. “Dad didn’t want me to ‘waste my brain’ on a career he saw as frivolous.”

“Joan.”

“He was right,” she hurried on. “I grew to like being in the Alliance, helping the archaeologists uncover ancient mysteries. I was happy to be following in my parents’ footsteps… and it paid the bills.”

“But your dream…” Jaal sounded so sad she almost laughed.

She reached up, cradling his cheek with her hand. “I found a new dream. Besides,” she said, lightening her voice. “If I had become a singer, Dad might have disowned me and then I wouldn’t have traveled 600 years to meet you.”

Jaal sighed, leaning into her touch and closing his eyes. “I suppose I cannot regret that either.”

“I would have been a terrible professional singer anyway,” Joan continued, dropping her hand. “I liked to sing for fun, but when it came time to practice, I hated it. Kids have a lot of dreams and sometimes it’s for the best that they don’t come true. Mom liked to hear me sing, though. It was something that made her happy, and that was enough for me.”

“And you haven’t sang for anyone else?”

“No,” she said. “Not since Mom died.”

Jaal’s warm hands closed around hers. “Will you sing for me?”

Embarrassment urged her to say “no.” But Jaal had shared his illness with her; something she was certain he didn’t share with anyone perhaps other than his family. He’d given her a piece of himself, and she knew—despite her inexperience with relationships, despite the critical voice in her head saying she wasn’t a good singer anyway—that this was important.

So, eyes straight ahead because she couldn’t look him in the eye and sing at the same time or she would lose it, Joan began to sing. It was a simple song, one from The Citadel and Back, the scene where the young human woman sees the Citadel for the first time and realizes how big the galaxy is. It had the wistful note of homesickness and excitement for new challenges. It was also known for being incredibly corny, but Joan had always loved it.

She covered her face with her hands when she finished, feeling completely humiliated, but Jaal gently took her hands from her face.

“Don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me, darling one,” he said softly. “Your beautiful spirit shines through your song. Thank you for sharing it with me.”

She rested her head on his shoulder, still blushing after singing, but also from the rush of love she felt for this man. Love, she thought with a start, I love him.

This close to his chest, however, she could hear the wheezing of his lungs, and she sat back up. “I’ve been keeping you up when you should be resting.”

“Can I stay here tonight?” He looked exhausted, eyes drooping, his face slack.

Joan paused. “What about your ion bed? I thought that was supposed to help you heal faster?”

“If I may, Pathfinder,” SAM interjected. “I believe the device Jaal brought on board is portable. It would only require moving from the tech lab to your quarters.”

“Okay. I’ll go get it.” She pulled out clean underwear, another pair of shorts, and a t-shirt (also stolen from her brother) from her dresser and, as Jaal lay down on the bed with a sigh, his back to her, she quickly changed and left the room.

The Tempest was quiet now. She poked her head into the crew quarters and all of them seemed to be sleeping soundly. She too was feeling the effects of being woken up in the middle of the night and longed to return to her bed… where her large boyfriend was currently resting.

Joan slapped her palms to her heated cheeks, feeling ridiculous. There has to be a limit to how many times I can blush in one hour. But for the first time in her life, she knew what it was to love someone and desire them at the same time. And yet, she hadn’t lied to Jaal about not being quite ready for sex. She knew herself well enough to realize that. But when she was ready.…

Giggling to herself, Joan retrieved the ion device from underneath the cot Jaal had rigged up in the tech lab. Then searched and eventually found a set of loose, flowing clothes she thought might be Jaal’s pajamas, and returned to her room.

He was almost asleep, his eyes closed to near slits. She almost didn't have the heart to wake him, but he stirred at her approach, eyes blinking slowly as she put the ion device under his side of the bed and turned it on.

“Do you want to change into your pajamas?” She held out the loose garment.

Jaal cracked a sleepy smile. “That is a ceremonial robe for celebrations.”

Joan winced. “Oops.” She glanced around at her dresser. “I have some sweatpants I took from my brother’s locker… they might fit you…”

They looked like capri pants on Jaal, fit oddly on his backwards bent knees, and were a little too tight in the crotch to be true sweatpants.

“Well,” Joan said, her voice cracking. “I guess it’s better than going commando.”

Jaal fell back onto the bed and pulled the cover up. “I’ll ask you about that one tomorrow,” he declared sleepily, then opened one eye to watch her climb in beside him.

Joan felt brave enough for a split second to inch closer to him. He hummed and put an arm around her, pulling her close enough that she could feel his natural current pulsing gently under his skin. To her surprise, her biotics responded in kind, making her skin tingle all over, echoing his rhythm. Joan had felt this before, training in close proximity to Cora, or even when fighting next to Peebee: their biotic fields reaching out to each other in an attempt to equalize, but never before had it felt so easy; so intimate.

“Mmm,” he said sleepily. “That is going to be something we should explore… when I’m better.”

Then he was asleep, his breathing evening out, his eyes fully closed.

Yes, we will, thought Joan, then closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

#my writing #fanfic #jaal x ryder #rydaal #MEA fic #ryjaal

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lhs3020b · 8 years ago

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Some thoughts on ME:A

Okay, as we've probably all gathered, Mass Effect: Andromeda has come in for a lot of criticism on the Internet. And, frankly, some of it is downright-hysterical. I also have to say that I don't recognise the game I'm playing in a lot of the comments that I've seen elsewhere. And then there are the so-called fans who have been using criticism as a cover for personal attacks, libellous statements, weird allegations and all the other nutty and toxic behaviours that have come to be associated with gaming culture. (Seriously, how did it get this bad? It's almost like the armchair equivalent of football hooliganism. In fact, in a way, it's worse. I mean, at least hooligans actually have to physically turn up to the match and take the chance of getting arrested, y'know?)

However, crazy nonsense aside, I think there are some legitimate criticisms that can be made of ME:A.

To start off positively (I'm aiming for constructive criticism here, not psycho lunacy!), I'll note that so far, I've been pleasantly-surprised by the world-building and the storyline. I haven't found anything too objectionable in either. The world-building is making more sense than I expected, the science background feels like it's back to about the level it was in ME1 (science-fairy Scourge aside, of course) and the characters remain strong and detailed.

Also, I'm very glad that we finally have female krogan and salarians and turians.

I do have a few (very minor) remarks concerning what I've seen of the setting/plotline so far.

I'm maybe a little dubious about the idea of a billionaire being able to run their own private extragalactic exploration program - it feels a little bit like more of the Obligatory Kneejerk Billionaire Boosterism that infests late-stage capitalist culture - but OK, whatever. This particular meme is one I've learned to tune out, particularly in a space-exploration context. (No, I'm not going to touch that particular third rail, thank you.) Plus also there is a subversion of the trope in that the Initiative is basically a complete trainwreck - apparently no-one thought to plan on the (highly likely) possibility that conditions in Andromeda might be different to how they were when the light set out from it, 2.5 million years ago. (Granted they couldn't have predicted the Scourge, but not packing enough supplies was a schoolboy error. But it's exactly the sort of logistical fuck-up that big corporations make all the time, so it has a certain plausibility. If you have a hierarchical power structure where critics can expect to be fired, mistakes will be covered up and all decision-making will revolve around Working Toward The Leader, not around actually getting things right.)

I'll note also that I do find it strange that we were somehow completely unaware of this throughout Mass Effect 3, despite it being the year after the Initiative left the Milky Way - but perhaps Shepard wasn't following the news very closely in 2185, and she may not even have had access to it while under house arrest. (Certainly I recall avoiding the news terminals in ME2 as much as possible, because they got annoying after a while!)

As for the SAM/reprise-of-Synthesis thing, that was a little irritating, but I suppose by now we know that BW just can't seem to let that particular bone go. And at least it's not coming out of the left field during the last 10 minutes of the game, and also I don't think it's going to dominate the plotline too much either. So again, while this is a nag, it's a survivable one.

(As to where I am in the game? Ryder's currently getting freezer burns off the landscape on Voeld, so I don't know what happens beyond that point.)

I think my biggest criticisms, unfortunately, concern the game itself. By that I mean the mass of code that produces the experience on the screen. Because it is, unfortunately, clear that there are some deficiencies here.

First off, the animations. I'll note that they're nothing like as bad as the Internet had led me to expect. And, so far, I haven't seen anything too ludicrous. But, there have been several instances of characters gliding around like ice scaters - Cora in particular seems to get a lot of this - and a lot of the walks are less-than-fluid. Also there have been a fair few inexpressionless, rubbery faces. (I've been headcanoning this as a widespread trauma reaction amongst the survivors on board the Nexus - the "thousand-yard stare" and all that. Or perhaps being hastily-defrosted from cryo has also given a lot of people a bit of a botox effect.)

Also, remember that thing from the Omega DLC where Aria went spinning off to the side during her big speech? That's happened several times after exiting dialogue trees. (Cora, again, seems to suffer a lot with random side-spinning. I'm starting to wonder if something's bugged in her scripting.)

Then there are things like the bug I ran into last night, where the save-file sometimes corrupts itself if you save from within the Nomad. At the risk of being blunt, beta testing should have caught that one.

The jetpack ... well, it works better than I expected it to, and I think I have got used to it. However, if you're bad with heights, or if you get motion sickness, it is the kind of thing that will give you a nasty lurch in the stomach. (Full disclosure: I'm bad with heights. This has been an issue with the jetpack.)

The Nomad ... unfortunately, it's a bit too like the Mako. I've found it next to impossible to control. Also, does it even have any guns? If it does, they're something else I haven't learned how to use.

Then there's the issue of prettiness versus system requirements. I think it's fair to say that a point of diminishing returns has been passed here. My new machine is very highly specced - the sort of high spec that has a four-digit cost associated with it (yes, you did read that right!) - and I'm still seeing texture glitches, slow refreshes and glacial loading. Also, some of the pretty is counterproductive - the galaxy map is cluttered with swirly things, and could manage with less zooming in and zooming out. (Does anyone else feel a little motion sick in the galaxy map sometimes?)

Also, whilst I'm behind on what's normal for games these days, the sheer file size of it did seem a bit much. 55 GB? Really? (Remember the old days of PC!Halo, where the entire game was barely a single gig?) I have a 2 TB HDD, and one game alone is now nearly 3% of it.

Then there are the reminder pop-ups. I'm in the middle of a firefight; now is not the time to tell me that I have unused research data! (Also, where are the pop-ups for useful things, like how to reload? I don't recall seeing any.)

Lastly, the crafting system. It's a nice idea - custom-build guns, armour and so on. But, unfortunately, I just have not been able to wrap my head around it. I think I've vaguely figured out the basics, but I will admit to feeling lost whenever I go into that menu tree.

So I think my summary of all this is, the plot and setting are solid - hurray! And the characters seem sound, at least so far. But, the actual mechanics of the game itself are weaker. Hopefully the upcoming patch will address/ameliorate these issues.

#LHS analysis #ME:A #Mass Effect 4 #Andromeda #Probably spoilers of some sort?#An attempt at measured criticism #Likely none too successful but I do what I can!

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motivationsuccess · 5 years ago

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The Secret of Happiness

“To allow Yourself to be Happy is the Greatest Wisdom There is.” Since we have been discussing happiness in the last chapter, I thought I would just toss in the ultimate secret of happiness for you as a sort of free bonus! Yes, that holy grail that has eluded wise men throughout the ages, is yours, free in the closing pages of this book! You might prefer to apprehend that the key of happiness can be explained in just eight words and is, in fact, quite mundane. It does not involve meditation, drugs or self-flagellation. Tomorrow, Today, Live For Better Working a Whilst What? You can’t make sense of that? I gave you the words for free, but the right order is going to value you plenty...

Pause, whilst the anagram-freaks try to work it out for themselves....

Got it? No? Okay you’ll have to read on...

Now the price for my arranging the words for you is about ten minutes of your time to read this section carefully, because it has important implications for your happiness. The first thing I want to say is that the human psyche - your psyche- is a very delicate thing indeed - and can be badly broken,particularly throughout your early years, by what would outwardly appear to be ‘not very much.’Put in a different way, your mind is an incredibly delicate and subtle mechanism - a finely tuned and highly sensitive instrument. So delicate is this wondrous apparatus, that it is flat-out impossible to grow up without some damage to its mechanism. Moderate damage is normal and severe damage is common.Please read that last sentence again. I would say that 100% of people - that’s everyone - has moderate damage to their psyche, and about one in three have severe damage. I am talking about damage caused by a normal upbringing, not an abused upbringing. Thankfully abuse is not the norm, but more importantly, the psyche is damaged by numerous small incidents throughout your childhood where you didn’t get exactly what you needed, exactly when you needed it.Parents are, after all, people. They are neither omniscient nor telepathic. they do their very best, working from the basis of their own damaged psyches. And so the cycle continues... Now the point here is that because everyone is damaged, this means that everyone exhibits symptoms of ‘mental disturbance’during, and often throughout, their lives. I’m talking 100% of people here. Such symptoms include: 1. Anxiety. 2. Depression. 3. Sleeplessness. 4. Irrational fear/panic attacks. 5. Feelings of worthlessness, insecurity, pointlessness. 6. Suicidal thoughts. 7. Substance abuse (particularly alcohol which is a wonderful anaesthetic for the harshness of life). 8. Irrational anger/impatience/irritation. 9. Worry. Because everyone experiences some or all of these on a scale of mild to severe, everyone pretends that they don’t experience these things and {we|and that we} all play this ridiculous game within which we pretend it’s just other people who have problems, not us.I have talked to hundreds of people from paupers to billionaires.Scratch the surface and what do you get? The same old human-being we all are. The damaged psyche resulting in some or all of the negative symptoms I have listed.I find this immensely comforting. The real problem about feeling down on life is when you think it’s only you who feels like this, and that everyone else has a good time counting their loot. If you can really take on board what i'm telling you here, that everyone is a seething mass of insecurity, angst, loose end and emotional turmoil, then I think that helps a great deal.It’s called ‘the human condition’ and comes about as a result of us all having such an immensely delicate psychology. We are about as equipped psychologically to handle the ‘slings and arrows’ of life as a butterfly is to handle a force ten storm.Every human on the earth is brave on the far side live. Forget‘bravery in the face of enemy fire.’ That’s just one sort of bravery and anyway, most troopers didn’t have a choice about going over the top.I’m talking real bravery of the sort you show every morning. You get up and face the world again. You against the world. And it’s as much a battle today as it ever was. Labour-saving devices make very little difference. do you have lots and lots of leisure time as a result of you own a ‘fridge, a washing machine and a dishwasher? No? I thought not.It’s an equivalent old struggle by an equivalent old human beings.There is a danger in writing (and reading) a motivational, go-get-’em, kick-ass 'secrets of the millionaires' book as a result of it encourages the sort of polarisation I was talking about earlier. You can easily think something like: “Yeah, it’s as I suspected, everyone else is happy and making great money, it’s only me who cannot achieve anything of note. I’m all alone. Everyone else is so happy and well adjusted...” I’m telling you now, in as plain a way as I can say, that everyone on the earth is more or less screwed-up due to the method we are,and the way the world is. You just cannot avoid the damage.You have to simply accept it, patch up what you can and live with the rest.So what can you do to increase your chance of happiness? Live Today The first a part of the key to happiness is to live today.That means you need to try to live in the present moment,experiencing what is happening right now to you, good or bad.This is it. This is your life. This is not a dress-rehearsal. But the twist here is to set this in the context of everything I have just said. Recognise that angst and upset are part of the human condition,experienced by everyone. This is just what it is to be a human being. We are all like this. Why? Because from baby to adolescent we had thousands of desires,most of that were met, many of which were not. Each time a need was not met (particularly from early childhood) it caused psychological damage, sometimes mild, sometimes serious.The brain is highly adaptive and most damage can be routed around in order to allow the organism to continue functioning, albeitat a slightly reduced capacity. We develop coping strategies the most effective of which is just good old-fashioned, plain avoidance - we simply avoid the individuals and situations that cause the emotional pain and this stops us living life in all of its full color.When I say "live today" I’m not talking about some blissed-out,tree-hugging hippie who tries permanently to empty his mind in order to contact the ‘now.’ I’m talking about experiencing today with all of its upsets, angers, joys and sorrows. Just riding the wild bronco of life and not letting that sucker kick you off.And when, as I often do, you experience a moment of intense pleasure, I want you to think to yourself: “This is as good as it gets.”And it’s true. These moments are as good as it gets.Life is hard. Just as hard today, in its own way, as it ever was.Perhaps not as hard on us physically, but a lot harder on us mentally.That’s why we’re not a lot happier now than in 1400 - to pick a year at random.

So i would like you to snatch happiness when it comes to you, like a drowning man or woman seizing the proverbial straw. This is what it means to 'live today. ' The alternative is to ignore the minor day-to-day happiness and always be thinking some version of: “I’ll be happy tomorrow,when...” (I have money, I get a girlfriend, I move from this bad area, I get myself a new car...) You won’t. Or to think: “How can i possibly be happy now when...” - and then insert your own unique bit of current misery, angst, depression,anxiety, panic or fear. The error here is to think that one day you’ll be totally free of these things, and then you can be happy.You won’t. It’s how we all are - riddled with this stuff. It’s what makes us all human. It’s what it means to be human. I’d go so far as to say that a person without a smattering of these things would be a flat, lifeless and intensely boring automaton. It is the degree of your angst which is important. Zero makes you dull as ditch water. A sprinkling makes you human and still allows for a lot of happiness. A moderate level makes you interesting, quirky and able to cope mostly with life, but like a semi-active volcano, side-shoots of lava keep erupting and causing turmoil in your life - you need to spend some time fixing the damage, otherwise you may erupt one day. A lot, and you are mostly immobilised in life and unable to function. Happiness is denied to you and all of your efforts ought to be expended in therapy to repair the worst of the damage, before you can

go on. You are constantly depressed, frightened and anxious.As an analogy, imagine a football team in immaculate, Persil-white strip, nancying around the field avoiding getting grass-stains on their clean white socks. They would be a bit of a disappointment, really.They don't want to get too involved in the game in case they get mud on their shorts or a bruise from that big, nasty old ball. Who wants to watch them? Who cares? They are not fully engaged with the game.A football team whose players are muddied, bruised and riled are an altogether more interesting spectacle. They’ll be fighting with passion and determination, taking daring risks, sometimes winning some ground, sometimes losing some ground, but always entirely absorbed in the game and playing right now in the present moment.But a team who are injured, demoralised, cold and wet need to do one thing - retire from the field, get some serious rest, bandage their cuts and recuperate. There is no point in their playing any longer. In fact, they can’t play. Their minds don't seem to be on the sport, but fully absorbed with their pain and humiliation.So, you see, the trick is to grab the happiness, now, in spite of any current misery from your worry list

A Brighter Future The final a part of the key to happiness is: “Whilst working for a better tomorrow.” So the whole secret is: “Live Today Whilst Working For A Better Tomorrow.” Why not write this out on a 3” x 5” card and put it somewhere you will see it each day? It’s not a bad idea.First, you grab every single morsel of happiness that comes your way, despite your perfectly normal negative feelings that you now know are a part of the human condition and which everybody experiences.

Next, you must realise that everything you are today and everything you own today is a direct results of your past decisions.Decisions that you took, either consciously, or by default. Nobody else is to blame here. But once again I find this immensely comforting, as a result of the power is in your hands to change the future,you don't have to wait for someone else to change it for you.If your present life is a results of your past decisions, then the future is created by your present decisions, and boy is that true!

So you should be constantly working and scheming so that your future (which will come around soon enough) will be even better than your present. And you do this in spite of any angst and turmoil you might be feeling, just as you do it in spite of the fact that you have to breathe air and sleep seven hours each night.Now if you recognise yourself in the ‘moderate’ or ‘severe’category of emotional turmoil, then part of the process of planning for a better tomorrow involves working on yourself, perhaps through therapy, counselling or talking to trusted friends. By the way, you cannot do this alone or through introspection.Think of this as urgent repairs to the ship’s hull, without that the boat is in danger of going down. Only a fool would attempt to sail in such a boat without spending some time in dock to patch things up.Perhaps you’ve been in denial about the condition of this leaky old tub? Have you been bailing like a demon for the last few years whilst battling on through stormy seas, just about keeping afloat? This is a judgement only you can make.

But apart from the psychological work, there remains the real down and dirty work required right now, today, to make your future better for you and your family. I guess this is what separates the winners from the losers. Winners know they have to work now in order to get ‘lucky’ several years down the line and reap the rewards.Losers want the rewards right now and cannot make the link between now and the future. They have what I have often described as a‘Bunteresque’ view of life (from Billy Bunter), hoping that something will turn up. You can’t live like that and be successful. You have to live your life on purpose, not by random chance. I cannot stress enough the importance of working for a better tomorrow despite any strong reasons why you feel you can’t, such as: 1. The terrible state of the world. 2. Your deep emotional scars. 3. Your age (you feel it’s too late).Work gives direction, meaning and engages the brain. Idleness rots you from deep within. I feel this is one of the most important issues and one of the hardest for me to write about. I guess the reason you bought this book is as a result of I’m just a few steps ahead of you on the path to wealth,happiness and freedom, and through my writings, I pass along my views of the scenery, what you can expect and how to negotiate the obstacles you are about to meet.The final thing in Pandora’s box was... hope. And when you are working for a better tomorrow. Conclusion Immense wealth is within your grasp - but it won't be a simple ride.Millions of individuals are wealthy and although it is not an easy thing to get rich it is far from impossible.Many chatter that they want to be wealthy, but few people have researched the factors required to achieve this. There are, indeed,several 'secrets' known to those who have fought their own way to the top of the mountain. If you have some aptitude and are willing to listen, you can learn these secrets for yourself and follow those 'lucky'ones to the dizzy heights.

The first thing you need to have is a firm belief that being wealthy is okay. If you harbour any socialist leanings, then these will eventually sabotage your wealth-creating efforts, ensuring that you remain poor.You must have a dream to act as a guiding beacon to lure you on when the going gets tough and the way ahead is dark. You cannot get rich by randomly selecting a field of endeavour for which you have no aptitude and even less interest. This is a ten or twenty year project;it cannot and must not be a ten or twenty year prison sentence. So you must do whatever it takes to unlock your secret dreams and passions. Hopefully others will share your passion and you can engage in commerce with them and make your fortune whilst having the time of your life. One very little trick used by all highly successful individuals is to have a battle-plan, sometimes called an action list or goal list. Life dreams are usually massive and unwieldy and so the wise person knows how to break up these dreams into bite-sized chunks of an acceptable size for our limited minds. Winners set goals, losers never set goals. It's that simple. Despite reading this recommendation fifty or a hundred times, still some people will not write down their goals. Having written your goals and broken the massive tasks down into simpler steps, now you require discipline to keep you on track,working through the list. Winners have this discipline. Losers wander aimlessly, become bored or distracted, have low frustration tolerance,give up easily and drift away. If I had to choose one single secret as the most important, it would be to cultivate a sense of discipline because from this, many other things follow.When setting your goals, make sure you keep firmly in mind that everything you obtain in this world has a price tag connected. You must be willing to pay the price, otherwise you are only window shopping and this means you are not serious about life, just browsing.Until this point, mostly this is theory. Now it is time for action.Above all, successful individuals are men and women of action. They get their sleeves rolled up and get on with the task at hand.Unsuccessful people procrastinate and always want to do it'tomorrow.' Of course, tomorrow never comes. The two main reasons for non-action are laziness and fear. The fear is usually fear of success or fear of change. We are all lazy, we all fear change. Winners are able to push through these negatives. Losers succumb to them. Before you start out on this journey, you need to have a clear idea about how much is enough, otherwise you have no destination and your search becomes an endless quest. If you are not clear about your destination, how can you ever know when you have arrived?Also, making money, no matter how enjoyable, has a price tag associated with it. Ideally you want to minimise the time you spend doing this and so you must have a clear idea of how much you want.There is no point any in amassing riches, never enjoying the fruits of your labours, and dying a wealthy man or woman. Money is an enabling force, not an end in itself. Finally, the journey is everything as there's only one, macabre destination which we all share. The last stop on the line is Grim Reaper Halt. Life is a process, not a product. So no matter what your current level of wealth, it is time for you to start mastering one of life's most difficult lessons which is to be happy right here, right now whilst working towards a better tomorrow. This book has been an attempt to get you to decide which of two paths in life you want to follow, and then for you actively to choose that path and live with your decision. One path is hard and stony. It rises steeply above of} you towards a distant mountain top. There is no guarantee of happiness on that mountain, but something calls you to it. The second path is not so steep. It meanders through the valley,taking in some interesting scenery on the way. It leads nowhere inparticular, but the journey is an interesting and pleasant one. There is no right or wrong path. Legend has it that both paths eventually converge in a mysterious dark valley from which no traveler has ever returned...but that's just a legend. Choose your path wisely. But do choose, do not drift. I wish you the best possible in your journey.

buy for details of Seven Secrets of the Millionaires

via SOFT SKILL AND MOTIVATION

#IFTTT #SOFT SKILL AND MOTIVATION

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prodrcmos · 7 years ago

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as the year comes to a close (there are forty-five minutes left as I begin to type this post), I’m gonna say a thing, and maybe it’ll make some people unhappy, but I only give enough of a shit to read-more this bitch, because I have a tendency to ramble.

maybe this is stupid/petty of me, but honestly? whatever. bashing/shitting on mass effect andromeda needs to be left behind in 2018.

I understand a lot of people were disappointed by the game for various reasons, whether they be about a story that they didn’t find interesting, or characters they thought were dull, or all the reports about game glitches and bugs. one of my best friends ended up having to purchase a second copy of the game for her console because her PC version bugged out so bad it corrupted her save files and the game wouldn’t even run well. even I had my share of glitches! I remember playing Drack’s loyalty mission and at the end, the three of us (being Drack, my Ryder, and another guy) were all standing out in space and then I got stuck on a loading screen (praise jesus for autosaves). I also fell prey to that awful glitch on the Tempest where you would walk up to that comm area but fall through the ramps into space and then spawn back on the ship with half health and no shields (I was so happy when Bioware patched that out).

but so many people decided andromeda was a bad game because of some glitches, and like I was just saying, I understand some people got some seriously shitty ones, to the point where some people couldn’t legitimately play the game, but how does not being able to play the game because of bad bugs equate to a game being bad? it’s not like the players had any idea their games would be so buggy, and it’s not like there was much of a fix aside from purchasing a new copy (which isn’t exactly a great solution, but it was really the only one available).

how can someone say a game is terrible just because they can’t play it? the problem is you haven’t been able to experience the game! your only argument is that the game didn’t work for you, and you can really only carry that so far. and that kind of thing won’t really stand up to others’ arguments about having issues with story progression or character development or romance options or combat mechanics. and I hope anyone has been reading this through a ‘this is my opinion’ lens, because that’s exactly what this is. this is an opinion post, and y’all are free to agree or disagree. it’s beautiful.

but, since I’m not sure I ever made a serious opinion post/thing about andromeda, I’m gonna include that here. so mass effect as a whole, as a community, has been a huge part of my life for the past handful of years. I’ve made a lot of friends talking about it and roleplaying about it (almost exclusively on tumblr) and it really paved the way for me as far as my interest and love for a good sci-fi rpg, and honestly rpg games in general. the original trilogy were some of the first video games I had really vested any time in, since all my experience beforehand was with educational shit and at the time, I was dabbling in world of warcraft (which is a whole other thing).

I loved those games. I was in them from the second the campaign started. mass effect 1? I was so excited I was Commander Shepard, I was hot shit, I was ready to do some good work for my planet and shit, and then...well, the entire game happened. I was in from the beginning and I just got sucked in further. mass effect 2? I was in from the beginning. I had just saved the galaxy from certain doom and then MY SHIP BLEW UP BUT HEY I’m not dead this is new (mass effect 2, to this day, remains my favorite game of the trilogy). mass effect 3? I was in from the beginning, I had already saved the galaxy twice and I was taking some (involuntary) time off but OOPS WE FUCKED UP time to save the entire galaxy again. and man let me tell you, the first time I finished mass effect 3, I was bawling my eyes out in a chair in the middle of my mother’s living room and she looked at me like I was crazy (which I am). the end of mass effect 3 still makes me emotional because it’s just such a climactic end to a whole series. I had invested hundreds of hours into multiple different characters and I didn’t care I was playing the same story over and over again because the personality and appearance customization didn’t make it seem like I was playing the same game over and over again. it felt like a new game each time and the story was just familiar.

andromeda wasn’t like that. I wasn’t in it from the beginning. I was excited about it, holy shit. it was almost all I talked about from when it was officially announced to when it was released. I waited months to save my paychecks to be able to drop some dollars on a preorder. and I agree that the game was overhyped, but nothing about it was ever disappointing. I found I couldn’t compare it to the trilogy games because a) it had been five years since there had been a new mass effect game and b) this new game was a completely different universe with a completely different cast of characters and a completely new story arc. I appreciated the cameos of old characters and mentions of things that happened in the trilogy games, but the connection wasn’t huge. I was actually kind of happy that andromeda could be used as a standalone game since it didn’t have huge ties to the previous games. it was a branch out in a bigger way that dragon age inquisition was (I use this reference because none of the dragon age games were as closely tied to each other as the mass effect games were, but inquisition was kind of removed from the first two games and only retained some of the same characters, but I’m not gonna get too into that here).

it took me time to get into andromeda. I had to play through some of the story first, and I think it speaks to how profound the previous trilogy was for me, because I wanted to know what happened in andromeda, I wanted to know the stories of all these new characters and this new place. and it only got better. I got sucked in, and when I finished andromeda I was impressed. I didn’t feel ripped off or copped out. fuck, I was proud to have andromeda in with the family of the trilogy games.

yeah, I was disappointed that there’s no longer going to be any work on the game and that it’s not getting dlcs and there’s little room for a fifth installment of the mass effect series, but the games we have are masterpieces. andromeda has just as much replay value as its predecessors. I have that same ‘not playing the same story over and over again’ feeling with andromeda because the customization makes it as though I have a new personality to explore each time, and man did I enjoy my relationships with those characters. my Ryder and Jaal are best buds and I die. Vetra is my space wife and I love her. Suvi is such a cutie and I’m excited she’s got grounds in religion because I feel like that’s not a thing that’s really a huge part of video game characters in sci-fi universes. Peebee is a nerd and she’s great. Cora has such a good arc, ugh.

...seeing as I want to post this before the actual end of the year, I’m gonna leave some final thoughts and just say that the people who played a good chunk of andromeda can come to me with opinions and judgments on the game. and honestly, this goes for any game. don’t make judgments on a game because of the things you’ve heard. have your own experience with it, make your own judgments. and something like bad glitches is not an excuse to make a game terrible. I’m done with all this negative shit about a game that was actually fantastic.

fight me.

#personal #long post /#I SAID I WOULD RAMBLE DIDN'T I???#holy shit was I right #heaves a breath #okay I'll be done now

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carterthornton · 7 years ago

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The Third Wave | Chapter Twenty: Punishment and Reunion

"Arrgh! Christ!" Aiko winced as Ms. Fawkes pulled an icepack away from her wrist, proceeding to gently wrap the sprained forearm with a compression bandage.

"Aw, don't be a baby, lass," Ms. Fawkes chuckled as she put a clip on the bandage, holding it in place. "There, good as new. Well... not quite, but you'll live." Ms. Fawkes got up from her stool and browsed the shelves, searching for anti-inflammatory medication (she had misplaced it the day before, and hadn't searched for it yet). Luckily, hiding behind a few other containers were the meds she was looking for, and she brought them over to Aiko, who sat on Ms. Fawke's medical bed in the center of the room. "Here we go!" Ms. Fawkes said as she handed Aiko her medicine. "These are anti-inflammatories- take em' for pain and swelling, but use in moderation, alright? Follow the instructions to the letter; I don't want to send to send ya to the hospital."

"No prob, Ms. Fawkes," Aiko nodded, clutching her bandage tightly to make sure it was secure. "Thanks."

"Yur welcome," Ms. Fawkes grinned, rushing over to Maeve, who sat off on the side in a lounger, awaiting treatment. "Now, onto my most frequent customer!" Ms. Fawkes almost seemed to skip over to Maeve, rolling the dragon-girl closer to Aiko as she hummed to herself. "Don't be followin' in the footsteps of this clown here..." Ms. Fawkes whispered to Aiko as she flipped Maeve over, examining her wound. "She's a bit of a loose cannon."

"Yeah, I figured that much," Aiko giggled, Maeve grumbling under her breath. "How does her wound look? A member of my team treated it with his Mark. Has it healed at all?"

"Well, he treated it right- plucked the shrapnel out and used a natural disinfecting agent to kill bacteria. Trouble is he didn't cover it up, and it's got a bit a dirt all in it." Ms. Fawkes walked over to a sink in the corner of the room, washing her hands vigorously before putting on medical gloves. She grabbed a pair of cleaned tweezers, picking out tiny pieces of dirt that were hidden in Maeve's wound. Unfortunately, some pieces were trapped; Maeve's enhanced healing had already begun to take effect and was quickly closing the injury with a new layer of skin. "Hmm... looks like I'll only be able to get out the exposed pieces. You're already healin' up."

"Of course I am, I'm a Mythical Beast Mark-user," Maeve announced, prideful in the unique abilities her Mark granted.

"Careful, Maeve..." Ms. Fawkes warned her, placing wet cloth on Maeve's wound. "I've treated countless characters like yourself who thought their Mark could protect em' from anythin'. Better healin' doesn't mean invincibility."

Just then, Ms. Steele walked into Ms. Fawke's office, snorting under her breath as she saw Maeve on the bed once again. "Oh boy."

"Robot-lady!" Yuko clapped as soon as she caught a glimpse of Ms. Steele's arms, standing close to Aiko.

"Hey, Steely, whatcha doin' in here?" Gin's voice became sweeter as she turned to Ms. Steele, who sat down on a chair near the door.

"Just here for a check-up is all- arm's on the fritz again," Ms. Steele replied, rolling her shoulder a few times and clenching her metal fist. She then popped her head up to get a better view of Maeve's leg, scoffing at the reckless dragon's new scars. "You gotta slow it down, kid. You'll get hurt if you keep this up."

"Says the woman with cybernetics..." Maeve muttered.

"She's right, ya know? You can't go rushin' into battle without any concern for safety, it's dangerous," Ms. Fawkes added as she slowly rubbed the damp cloth against Maeve's leg, mopping up any remaining dirt and debris whilst also cleansing the wound. "Listen to Ms. Steele, she's an expert when it comes to being reckless... right, cowgirl?" Gin shot Ms. Steele a naughty glance, teasing the veteran.

"Shut yer trap, Potato-Head," Ms. Steele shook her head at Ms. Fawkes as she crossed her arms and leaned her head back against the wall, trying to hide the smile spreading across her face.

"So, um..." Aiko treaded carefully with her next question, as she feared it would stir up unwanted emotions in Ms. Steele. "How did you get all those cybernetics?"

"Yeah, tell us!" Yuko chimed in.

"Ah, just got caught in an explosion- nothing epic or anything," Ms. Steele shrugged her shoulders, staring at the ground for a moment before continuing. "Typical injury on the battlefield."

"Alrighty, lass, you're good as new," Ms. Fawkes declared as she finished bandaging Maeve's leg, handing her a package of extra bandages. "Here, make sure to switch em' when they get dirty."

"Thank you," Maeve nodded, hopping off the medical bed.

"You're very welcome," Ms. Fawkes beamed, looking over to Yuko. "How about you, sweetheart? Do you need anything patched up?"

"Um..." Yuko checked her metal body for any scrapes or scratches; thankfully, nothing. "Nope!"

"Hmm, I never did get either of your names..." Ms. Fawkes scratched her chin at Aiko and Yuko, sitting down on her office chair.

Aiko stepped down from the medical bed and stood beside Yuko. "I'm Aiko Schmitt, and this is Yuko. She's err-... my sister."

"Ah, I see the resemblance," Ms. Fawkes stated, noticing their similarities in face shape and body structure. " I can see who the athlete in the family is..." She snorted, pointing out Yuko's superior size and muscle mass.

"Uh, yeah..." Aiko couldn't help but feel bullied for her mediocre height. "I'm not that short!"

"Now, you guys run along to Headmaster Colter, he's got a bone to pick with the ya," Ms. Fawkes quickly shooed all three of them out into the hall, poking her head outside before closing it completely. "Have a good one!" And with that, Ms. Fawkes was free from a long day of tending injured students. "Bloody hell... I'm beat." She sighed, plopping back down on her office chair as she stared at the ceiling.

"It must be damn tirin'- dealin' with all those reckless kid's injuries," Ms. Steele empathized with the exhausted nurse before her. "They're always so damn enthusiastic- gettin' into fights like that."

"Were you any different at that age?" Ms. Fawkes smirked, bringing back old memories of their high school years.

"Nope," Ms. Steele smirked as she tapped her metal hand against her leg. "But look where that got me, eh?"

"You know it wasn't your fault- what happened to you," Ms. Fawkes reminded her like she had done countless times before. "Shit happens."

"Yeah, yeah..." Ms. Steele brushed her off as she sat down on one of the medical beds, awaiting Ms. Fawke's healing touch. "Now, how about that check-up?"

"Joy Steele... always so forward," Ms. Fawkes' voice became somewhat sultry, stirring up unwanted emotions in Ms. Steele.

"What did I tell ya about callin' me 'Joy', Coal Cracker?" Ms. Steele's face flushed red as she forced a scowl.

"Shut up and show me yur arm, Yeehaw," Ms. Fawkes giggled as she took Ms. Steele's forearm, raising it to see under her shoulder. "Hmm... not an expert with cybernetics, but it looks like ya got a dull magnet in there. You should check up with Billy downstairs, he'll patch you up."

"Th-thanks..." Ms. Steele nodded as she clutched her left arm, testing its mobility.

"Now, I'm curious... why didn't ya go right to Billy in the first place?" Ms. Fawkes bit her lower lip as she sat on Ms. Steele's lap, causing the poor gritty soldier to sweat from anxiety. "Did ya wanna ask me something, Maverick?"

"W-well... I was wondrin' if we could maybe go somewhere tonight?" Ms. Steele slurred her words as the sweet aroma wafting off of Ms. Fawkes reached her nose, causing her to nearly go brain-dead.

"Sounds good, A rúnsearc," Ms. Fawkes said in a bewitching voice as smooth as Irish cream, her amber eyes locking onto Ms. Steele's emerald gaze. "What did ya have in mind?"

"Dinner? Maybe a movie?" Ms. Steele tried to calm herself down, but Ms. Fawkes made it exceedingly difficult to every hot and heavy breath she took. "I hear there's another Fast and Furious movie playin'."

"It's a date then," Ms. Fawkes nodded as she skipped over to the door, locking it from the inside. "But first... I need a little time to unwind."

"W-wait, here?!" Ms. Steele stuttered as Ms. Fawkes jumped on top of her like a cheetah pouncing on its prey. "Now?!"

"Any complaints...?" Ms. Fawkes snickered drunkenly as she unbuttoned Ms. Steele's shirt, wrapping her long legs around the bumbling soldier's waist.

"Uh..." Ms. Steele looked behind her lover, watching the door for a moment before finally giving in with a defeated grunt. "Ah, fuck it." A wild grin stretched across Ms. Steele's face as she grabbed Ms Fawkes and violently kissed her. "Ya fuckin' Clover."

"Shut yur trap, Hick," Gin snapped back at her as she shut Joy up with another kiss. "I need some Fast and Furious right fuckin' here."

****

Yuko held Aiko's hand as they entered the Headmaster's office, looking for Aiko's reassurance. "Ai-... Aiko?"

"It's okay, Yuko. Don't be scared," Aiko calmed her little sister down, reaching up to pat Yuko on the head.

"Oh... okay..." Yuko nodded as she looked all around the room, marveling at Headmaster Colter's odd taste in decoration. "Whoa, this is weird!"

"An interesting design," Maeve affirmed Yuko's statement as she analyzed the space.

"Not what you expected?" The Headmaster guffawed with his low voice, adding a jolly tone to the situation. "Come in!"

The Headmaster's office was primarily designed with a 50's art deco style in mind, taking inspiration from jazz clubs and Hollywood glam of that era. Portraits of 50's pop-icons lined the walls where one would expect a bland still life painting to reside; Marilyn Monroe, Humphrey Bogart, Chuck Berry, they all were hung up in frames. There was even a jukebox close to the Headmaster's desk playing 'Maybe ' by The Ink Spots, and it's sound provided a very comforting ambience to the room that incited nostalgia in people that had never even experienced that generation.

"Oh my God, is that-?" Aiko cut herself off as she took a gander at the Frank Sinatra album inside the jukebox, almost forgetting the reason why she came to the Headmaster's office.

"Hush, buffoon!" Maeve silenced Aiko with a hushed scream.

"Yep, it's original," Headmaster Colter answered her as he laid back in his chair, taking a deep breath. "Cost an arm and a leg to find. You like em'?"

"Ah, yep... I like his music," Aiko nodded, trying to keep a serious face on. "So, um.. down to business then?"

"Yeah, let's get to it," The Headmaster grabbed reading glasses from a compartment in his desk to read Officer Grey's report on the day's events. "So, you all can confirm these reports were true? You were all involved in today's incident and you actively went against a direct order given to you by one of the teaching staff?"

"Yes." They all nodded.

"Alright..." The Headmaster sighed, getting off his seat with an exasperated groan. "You're smart, honest students- that much is clear -but you disobeyed an order from a superior. That won't fly if you get out in the field one day; your commanding officer won't have time for any of your malarkey." He folded up his glasses and placed them back in the desk, slowly stretching as he got back up to relieve all the stress on his back that built up over the day. "Aiko, you're new here, so I hope you'll only have to hear this lecture once, but you..." He shot Maeve an annoyed look as he sat back down in his chair. "You've caused the teaching staff nothing but trouble since you first got here. Damn it, MacDonnell! You're a star student with stellar grades, but you've got to learn a little perspective. You can't just go barging in like you know everything because you don't!"

"Yes, sir..." The fire inside Maeve seemed to dissipate, leaving her cold and emotionless; she simply stared off into space and nodded. "I'm sorry, sir."

"Sorry isn't good enough anymore, and it's not good enough for your father either," Headmaster Colter shook his head as he packed up the papers of Grey's report into its file, placing it in his desk drawer. "My apologies, Maeve, but I'm going to have to give you a suspension to get my message across."

Maeve was shocked back into reality by Colter's declaration. "Thank you, Headmas-."

"There must be some other way, Headmaster. Maeve may have disobeyed orders, but she saved all those officers today! There must be some alternative to suspension...?" Aiko voiced her opinion on the matter, trying to shield Maeve from such a severe punishment. "Right?"

"I suppose there could be..." The Headmaster scratched his chin as he thought for a moment. "Yes, I think I know the perfect alternative, though, I'm not sure if you'll be satisfied with it."

"W-what is it...?" Aiko asked, cursing her conscious for covering Maeve's tail so quickly.

"For the alternative, Ms. MacDonnell could live with you for the rest of the school week," Colter groomed his beard as he continued. "Yes... I think it would be a good way for Ms. MacDonnell to be more cooperative with her peers."

"No, no, no!" Maeve waved her hands in the air as she voiced her concern. "I'm not going to live with..." She leaned in closer to Colter, secretly gesturing over to Aiko and Yuko. "Those two..."

"Fine, then you take the suspension," Colter said as he tapped a pencil against his desk.

"Um-!" Maeve trailed off as she weighed her options carefully. "I'll... take the alternative."

"Yay, a sleepover!" Yuko cheered as she hugged Maeve tightly, completely ignoring her personal space.

"Unhand me, you fool!" Maeve shouted at her captor, wheezing as Yuko hugged tighter. "Hrrnn!"

"Yuko, what did I tell you about people's 'bubbles'?!" Aiko yelled at her sister, trying to pry Maeve out of her grasp. "Yuko!"

****

In a storage warehouse in Rock Bay, in the Burnside District of Victoria, a door swung open, revealing Damian on the other side along with his fellow comrades. Reika, Camila, and Varg followed Damian closely, making sure he was safe from harm. Louise and Alistair tagged along behind them, whispering to each other in hushed tones.

"Are we really gonna be meetin' these wankas, Damian?" Alistair spoke up, mumbling into The Father's ear.

"These two are not 'wankas', they're old friends of the cause- the original Brother and Sister that joined eight years ago," Damian replied as he removed his sunhat. "Reika remembers them well."

"I do! I'm so excited to see them all again! It's been so long!" Reika held her hands to her heart, reminiscing on the good times she shared with her old family. "Oh, Ara's gonna freak out when he sees how big I got after all these years!"

"Yeah... big," Alistair gawked at Reika's rear as he trailed behind her.

"Indeed, she shall," Damian let out a light chuckle as they all turned down a hall surrounded by wooden crates. "Please, try to be nice, everyone. We wouldn't want to be impolite to our elders."

The Kin gathered at a clearing in the middle of the warehouse created just recently, as evident by the dust outlines on the floor which used to house various containers. The missing crates seemed to be arranged into two makeshift thrones, and sitting on top of them were two grizzled looking veterans. The one on the left was a woman in her early thirties, a Korean woman with very short, periwinkle hair that was done up in flapper curls. Despite her obvious Asian heritage (brown eyes, round cheeks, and a short nose), she had a very Western-looking body type and face shape. She had a long slender figure with tall legs and a very sharp chin, and she had a lengthy neck as well. The crane-like woman wore a purple tweed jacket over a red tank top cut above her stomach, with black denim jeans to tie it all together.

"Bonjour, all!" She greeted them with a very dainty wave, gracefully crossing a leg over the other as she fiddled with a large steel needle in her hand.

*Ara Kae Toutou (IMOP Bounty: 40,350,000 UND)*

"Ah, Madame Toutou..." Damian kissed Ara's outstretched hand as she descended from her throne. "As graceful as ever."

"Merci, Mousieur Dreyfus," Ara laughed, kissing him on either side of his face.

"Oh, cariño... not more of that Frenchy-French garbage," The hulking man on the right grumbled with a thick Mexican accent as he rolled his eyes.

The man occupying the next throne- aside from his height -was the exact opposite of Ara. His black hair was slicked back with Brill cream, and he had big and bold sideburns that complimented his bushy moustache. He was a swollen mass of raw muscle and testosterone, standing just under Varg's height, but far outclassing him in the brawn category. His broad neck was like a pyramid, and his barrelled chest stuck out of his tight, grey t-shirt. Each of his titanic arms was the size of Varg's torso, but his legs were fairly short compared to the rest of his body, though, they were still well-built. The man had a rigid face with a solid jaw line, and his eyes were dark brown; he appeared to squint most of the time as well. His black leather jacket just barely contained his musculature, and his tight blue jeans were done up with a spiffy brown belt made from the finest leather. The sleeves on his jacket were rolled up to accommodate huge metal cuffs on his forearms that looked as if they weighed at least a ton each, and he also wore modified hiking boots with heavy metal soles. He looked as tough as they come.

*Pablo Hernandez (IMOP Bounty: 53,000,000 UND)*

"Hola, Pablo," Damian gave Pablo a firm but cautious handshake as he stepped off his seat, wary of the raw strength behind his grip.

"Hola, mi amigo!" Pablo pulled Damian in and hugged him like a brother would. "You look well, Damian! Have you been workin' out?"

"I've had my share of field experience in these eight years," Damian replied, gesturing to his moustache. "You've grown facial hair, I see."

"Ah, yes! You like it, eh? It took me a while," Pablo chuckled as he walked over to meet the rest of his old team. "Who are the newcomers?"

"Of course, I must introduce you two. Come," Damian sorted his allies into a huddle, forming an amalgamation of Kin members, both new and old. "For those of you who don't know, this is Pablo; he was the first member I recruited all those years ago when Reika and I began, 'The Brother'." Damian then placed a hand on Ara's shoulder. "And Ara is the second recruit; she once bared the title of 'Sister' before you, Camila. But, since their roles have been filled, you shall refer to these two as your 'Grandmother' and 'Grandfather'."

"It is good to work with you all, mes amies," Ara giggled delightedly as she struck up a conversation with Reika, whom she hadn't seen in years. "Ma parole, ma parole! You have grown into a beautiful woman!"

"Thank you, Ara. It really has been too long," Reika felt an ego boost from Ara's compliment as she placed a hand on her hip. "How are you? How was Paris?"

"Très bien, très bien, Cherry Blossom! Oh, ow wonderful Paris was! I will tell you more when we arrive at our new abode," Ara held back her enthusiasm, knowing full-well that Damian was about to get down to business. "Let us begin zen, oui?"

"Yes..." Damian cleared his throat before continuing. "In light of our recent loss, I now realize just how different Victoria is from Vancouver. The population density of Mark-users is simply astounding. Though the IMOP forces are spread out far and wide across the island, there are many students at the academy that we may need to keep tabs on in the future. I must confess, we are horribly outmatched in this new environment, but we will adapt, like always. And so that is why I've invited some old faces back into the fold, you see."

"So, what now?" Camila asked.

"What is imperative to our cause as of right now is locating and liberating the Mythical Beast Mark-user hidden somewhere in this city by The Paladins," Damian answered.

"And what do you know of this Mark-user?" Pablo inquired, crossing his arms as he groomed his moustache.

"We know of her name, Isabelle. However, we know nothing of the Mark she carries- only rumours telling of its potential to aid entire armies in their advance," Damian explained in a grave tone of voice. "We cannot let a Mark-user of that calibre fall into the hands of The Paladins. If this girl is utilized properly by those fools, there's no telling the carnage they might inflict on fellow Mark-users."

"Damn Paladins..." Varg spat on the ground at the mere mention of their name.

"She is being held in a bunker somewhere underneath the Greater Victoria area," Damian sighed, tapping his thumbs together. "It's vague but at least it's something."

"A bunker? Aren't zare many of zeez in za city?" Ara interjected whilst simultaneously inspecting her nails for any cracks or scrapes.

"Yes, there are, which is exactly why I've called upon you two. We need more boots on the ground if we ever hope to find Isabelle," Damian responded, scratching his chin at the thought of such a large-scale undertaking. "And to start, we must work our way up The Paladin's chain of command until we finally sever the head of the demon, Peter Bishop. Once he's gone, the gang violence against Mark-users in Victoria shall be cleft in two."

"The Master and Commander of the West Coast Paladins? Dios mío... how we gonna do that? That guy's a ghost." Pablo shook his head, dreading such an idea.

"Like Damian said: we work our way up the food chain from local gangs, to grunts, to knights, and so on," Louise offered her support for Damian's plan. "It will take time, but it will eventually yield results."

"Well, I ain't got better things to do anyways..." Pablo snickered, feeling all nostalgic as he heard the enthusiasm of Damian's group. "Let's do this."

"Oui! Let us embark!" Ara cheered as she outstretched her hand into the middle of their circle.

"Yes, let us begin," Damian smiled as he placed his hand on top of Ara's, the rest of his team joining in. "For the family..."

"For humanity." They all chanted, hopeful of the future.

"Ha ha! A happy day!" Pablo let out a hearty laugh as he hugged Varg and Camila. "We got any tequila at the new crib, eh? I'm in the mood for a party!"

"And hopefully a shower..." Camila mumbled to herself as her nostrils puckered, catching a whiff of Pablo's overpowering musk.

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anautisticdragon-blog · 7 years ago

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Why the MMORPG Died

The strange affair everyone had with the MMO genre seems to have passed and now the genre itself is in its death throes. At this point, it might be worthwhile to look back at it and see why it failed so spectacularly. Exclusive Content One of the most interesting aspects of the MMORPG, I think, is that it never learned the lessons of the single player game. A single player game, like Mass Effect, has difficulty settings to appeal to the widest range of audiences. The MMO developer recognises that there are different audiences, but their approach is to foolhardily develop exclusive content for each type. No. Bad developer! Bad. Sit in the corner! That's one of the worst approaches to online play I've ever seen, this specific kind of segregation always creates tribalism, you'll invariably end up with a toxic MMO where the casual, hardcore, roleplaying, and PvP audiences all hate one another with a fiery passion. I've yet to encounter an MMO where this isn't true. Even recent MMOs like The Elder Scrolls Online have this problem. The answer, here, is scaling and instancing. Offer difficulty settings with rewards that have increased numbers to better suit the heightened difficulty of each setting but no cosmetic difference. A player would then play each setting to get the best gear of that tier, before using it as entry level gear to the next level of difficulty. The final level of difficulty would have no gear upgrades, but it would have a leaderboard system for bragging rights. The sensible thing about this approach is that everyone can stay on the difficulty level they desire without ever having to feel forced outside of the kind of play they enjoy to experience all the game has to offer. Let's use dungeons as an example. Usually in an MMORPG a dungeon requires at the very least five people to enter and succeed, this is troublesome when so many people play MMOs as co-op games (as do I, just myself and my partner). It's also needlessly punishing to introverted and autistic people who simply don't socialise as much. You're telling them you don't belong in your game. Is that really a good idea? So I propose a compromise. Casual: The dungeon can be beaten easily by a solo player. Normal: The dungeon can be beaten with difficulty by a solo player. Difficult: The dungeon requires a group of five working with some degree of cooperation to claim victory. Hard: The dungeon is more difficult, though it can still be beaten with duress b a group of five people working well together. Elite: The dungeon has an entry level of around ten players now and the level of cooperation required is much greater. Penultimate: The dungeon requires a guild of at least twenty people to be able to secure any kind of success, teamwork is a must. Some will say 'but this would be hard to balance.' Not really. At least, not if you understand how these things work. It's pretty easy. All you have to do is look at ESO's level-based scaling to see that. What you do is you start off designing it for penultimate, then you par it down, removing abilities from the enemies, having the dungeon spawn less enemies, and giving them less stats until you find something that's comfortable for each mode. Pretty simple. It just requires a developer that isn't lazy. Apply this to the world region instances, too, so that the feel of the game is constant throughout. So, for example, on casual a world boss can be defeated by a solo player. On penultimate, a world boss requires a guild to beat it and the efforts of the players are ranked on a leaderboard. Wouldn't this create segregation? Oh, absolutely. It's just segregation that won't create tribal hatreds amongst your players, you'd have a much less toxic community where everyone's allowed to have fun and enjoy themselves. This is what everyone wants, after all. If you look at the reasons that the vast, vast, vast majority of people don't play MMOs, this is probably going to be one of the most cited reasons. That they can't just sit down and enjoy all the content as they want to, they're forced to play with people in ways they don't find enjoyable, it causes them stress and anxiety when they're trying to use that time for leisure and fun. For a person with a job, that time is precious, so if you're finding your experience is devoid of fun then that time has been wasted. Some can just spend their entire life playing a game, that isn't everyone. If developers kept this in mind, they'd secure a much larger audience for their MMOs. It's a sad state of affairs that they don't. The Gear Grind Only the hardcore elite actually enjoy it. I'm sorry to say but this is true. The vast majority of people only have a small tolerance for grinding, especially in the kind of enforced grouping way that MMOs do it. So, once again, I feel that instancing is our solution. Tie the level of grind into the difficulty levels, so the higher the difficulty, the more grind is required to get more of the gear required to climb a difficulty level. For those that hate grind, they can stay on casual and have fun. 'Wait,' I can almost hear some marketers scream insidiously, 'without addicting people how will our game be successful?' The same way that any multiplayer game is, today. If you keep making content for it, people will return to purchase that content. Plus, whilst casuals don't grind much, they do enjoy altitis. So provide a lot of options at the beginning of the game for where you can travel and what you can do. ESO got this right. Also, provide a lot of entirely cosmetic clothing items for dressing up and roleplay, both within the game and on your cash store. ESO got this right, too. Casuals won't sell their life away to a subscription, but they will buy nice town clothes. Casuals care about immersion. The hardcore player doesn't, they never did, that's why they wear shoulder pads that are each the size of an Eiffel tower. I haven't ever met a hardcore player that actually cares about immersion or roleplaying. It's the same for PvPers, really. The only group that really understands the value of roleplay are casuals, and they'll be the ones that write the flowery articles on websites that sell your game on further. So you allow casuals to play with an almost non-existent level of grind and you provide them with plenty of cosmetic options. As a casual player, every single time I've left a game it's because it's become needlessly more difficult and punishing, or because the developer has increased the necessary level of grind. This was true with GW2, this was true with ESO, and it's been true of every MMO to date. The reason why people leave an MMO in a mass exodus? That's why. It's simple, really. People are leaving ESO in droves lately despite Morrowind. They're doing so because the balancing team are balancing purely for the hardcore and PvP audiences, and the balancing isn't separate for each group. Sigh. Bad Balancing ESO has been oh so very guilty of this ever since One Tamriel, and it's only getting worse with the Templar being gutted just to suit PvP. If every MMO were to separate balancing out by difficulty levels, along with PvP, then everyone would be happy. So on the casual difficulty people can have oddly OP builds because you don't care about what the casuals are doing. They don't derive fun from being underpowered. This is what happens when you staff balancing teams with simple-minded, reticent, rigid, traditionalist old men. That's clearly the case with ESO. They're fogeys who don't understand what the contemporary MMO player wants. So they keep screwing it up. ESO is at one of the lowest points it's ever been right now despite Morrowind, and this is the main reason why. There would be millions of people playing it if it had the kind of difficulty settings (along with their relevant levels of grind) that I keep speaking of. In this scenario, you could simply let people keep their crazy, imbalanced builds and not worry. If Champions Online had done that (as everyone on the forums kept telling them to, over and over and over and over), then I doubt it would've died. In fact, I think it had the potential to be very successful. It drew in so, so many roleplayers. The most obvious example of this is Champions Online's day one patch. It was a balance patch meant to appease hardcore and PvP players. The server population dropped by 60 per cent with that patch. Everyone fled to the forums to tell Cryptic why they were quitting, Cryptic stuck by their balance choices stubbornly, out of cognitive dissonance, and now the game is very dead. It's not even a ghost town. It's just deserted. We tried to tell them. We always try to tell them. Always. It happens to some online multiplayer games, too. The co-op component of Battleborn was fun, initially, but they kept balancing everything to suit only the hardcore at the expense of everyone else. We told them. We told them why every patch seemed to cut the playerbase in half. They didn't listen. Bad balancing will kill your game faster than anything else. If your players are telling you that your balancing only to suit the hardcore and the PvPers is why most of your customers are leaving? Try listening, maybe? And this is why the casuals always push for separate balancing systems, we're not trying to take the game away from hardcore players and PvP players. Sadly, they're more competitive than us, louder, and far less magnanimous and charitable. They demand that the game be balanced purely to suit them, and most developers keel over and obey, to the detriment of their profit. Lots of Little Armour Pieces Single player games seem to understand that the vast majority of people don't enjoy this at all. There are reasons why casual games like Mass Effect and hardcore games like Gothic sold armour as only an entire set (rather than pieces). It's due to not having to think about how each and every little piece of gear interacts, and also how to get the exact pieces you need for every single little part of the game you're playing. So drop the trinkets! Drop the separate armour pieces! In fact, stop the vertical progression altogether! What do you do, instead? Make each set of armour unique. Have every set of armour focus on a unique style of play and support that. It would perhaps be interesting if each armour had a very unique passive effect, too. Say, for example, if one armour would provide constant passive healing. Another would cause an oilslick to follow the player around, so that enemies and other players would slip up on it. Yet another may set those nearby on fire. Have fun with it! Make it fun! And make gear actually bloody mean something for once! Build Micromanagement & Levels This has always been a sticking point for a lot of people. The vast majority just don't want to spend their time figuring out what makes for the very best min/maxed system in the game. ESO was better at this by limiting skills, but they made a fatal flaw. They had classes and levels. ESO came so close to getting this right and that's part of why it's been at all popular. If ESO dropped the classes (and just made the 'class' skill lines work like all the others in the game), if they added alternate routes to unlocking the trees which aren't automatically available (so they're not exclusive to certain types of players), and they removed the level number? Everyone would be happy. Consider the possibilities, here. Without a max level you could eventually unlock every ability in ESO and make whatever kind of crazy build your heart desired. I think that's what most people want. By putting a cap on the amount of abilities that people can unlock, ESO has forced people to feel anxious about every single unlock they make as they can't rectify that later. If the levels didn't have a max? That'd be different, everyone would confidently run with whatever they liked, knowing that they could unlock the other abilities later on. I believe this is how The Secret World works, isn't it? So we moosh TSW and ESO together. PvPers vs. Roleplayers This is another easy one to solve. You add more instances. Allow for RP, Normal, and PvP versions of all difficulty settings. Yes, this might slightly segregate people but it wouldn't create the tribal segregation that creates toxic communities in today's MMOs. Instead, it would simply allow people to be with the kinds of people they want to be, to enjoy their company, and to play how they want to play. The PvP instances would have open world PvP, for example. Would it really be so many instances versus those MMOs often have, anyway? Both ESO and GW2 have a population cap per region instance, after all. As such, I think it would actually segregate less. In that visible way that makes the groups hate one another, anyway. Conclusion If this was executed right it would reduce a lot of the complexity, enforced segregation, and toxicity that trouble MMOs today. I've been playing MMOs since Neverwinter (no, not Neverwinter Nights). If that's not something people remember, then try The Realm. No? Meridian59??? Ultima Online?? Everquest???? There were a lot of games before WoW, you know. So, I've been playing MMOs for a long time, and I've learned a lot. I've learned from talking to people (which MMO devs never do), and observing first-hand what frustrates and annoys people. There is the recipe for a successful MMO, here. All a developer has to do is, for once, sit up and listen. Pay attention to what your players have been telling you forever. We’ve had the technology to do this for ages, now. The first truly successful MMO since WoW could be made. Or we could let the genre go quietly, gently into the night.

#mmorpg #dev #elder scrolls online #guild wars 2 #the secret world #opinion piece

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