#fire in slum area

[arkus-rhapsode]

When you see yourself in trash (Gachiakuta Discussion)

So with the positive reception of my recent thinkpiece, I wanted to make good on my promise that I’d post more. And this has kinda been one I’ve been wanting to do for a while. But due to the deeply personal nature of it, I wanted to really give it the time it deserved to come together.

This is going to be a post about Gachiakuta, which if my multiple posts on it haven’t been an indicator, I'm kinda a big fan. But what’s more, I really wanted to talk about why Gachiakuta speaks to me more in depth.

Background 

So for those who don’t know, Gachiakuta is a weekly manga series by mangaka Kei Urana. Urana is a former assistant of the student of the Soul Eater and Fire Force creator, Atsushi Okubo. This series premiered shortly after Okubo’s Fire Force finished up, and stars a young boy named Rudo who lives in the slum area of a place called “The Sphere” (Or Heaven depending on the translation). Rudo has a habit of stealing from waste deposit sites and repairing broken items he finds. He lives with his adopted father Regeto after his biological father was sentenced to “The Abyss” for murder. The Abyss is a gaping chasm where all of the Sphere’s trash and prisoners are dumped. 

Rudo is a somewhat surly child, and noticeably struggles with properly expressing his emotions despite the fact he is a highly emotional person. Smiling in particular is a struggle for him. Rudo one day comes to find Regto killed by a mysterious masked man, and blamed for this crime. Rudo is sentenced to the Abyss where he cries in anger he will return and kill everyone here. In the Abyss, Rudo is met by monsters made of trash and people devoted to fighting them, the Cleaners (Or Janitors depending on the translation). This fighting force of magic garbage men use the power of a “Giver” to empower items dear to them known as Jinki. With Rudo discovering that he can do the same with his gloves given to him by Regeto. Now he’ll work with the Cleaners killing trash monsters as he unravels the mystery of who killed his adoptive father and how he’ll escape the Abyss.

And it has been the newest manga series in the last four years that has not only made me feel hyped but await every chapter since its release.

Now if everything I said previously sounded like “well that sounds like a fairly straight forward if somewhat interestingly flavored revenge action manga. What makes it special?” Well then we’re going have to talk about Rudo. 

Rudo

So Gachiakuta is a series with a lot of weirdos in it and some unconventional story structures to it (and we’ll touch on that later) but I think the character who embodies the core of this series is its MC, Rudo. 

On the surface Rudo is a character that could feel at home with any number of shonen manga protags. Really expressive, yells a lot, spiky hair, and a power that’s kinda special amongst its power system. Basically, If Deku from MHA was a bit more angry and sleep deprived, you probably think he and Rudo were the same person on the surface. And for the most part, Rudo seemed to be that way, an angry kid out for revenge who treasured the last remaining gift he received from his foster father. Yet then we get to chapter 15 of Gachiakuta. A truly special chapter. 

When Griss, Rudo’s teammate for this mission, was run through with claws by the villain, Jabber Wongar, Rudo seems to suffer some for of PTSD as the world goes hazy and he sees Griss as Regeto, stabbed and bleeding. We cut to Rudo as a child in Regto’s care and there, Rudo is banging his head against a wall to the point blood is coming out. 

When Regto asks why Rudo would do this, the only thing Rudo can describe is how he has nothing. He has these feelings he doesn’t know how to describe yet he believes he’s nothing from the abuse he suffered at the hands of parents. All he has to really express it it this sort of frustration. While Rudo’s parents being murders may have been a lot for any child, Rudo carries literal scars given to him by his father. His hands peeled and scared and burnt black. The pain in his hands stops when he wears the gloves Regto gave him. 

And when Regto wants Rudo to find something to focus his passion into, the thing that catches Rudo’s attention the most is a broken mannequin. Rudo cries letting out those feelings he said he couldn’t describe. Wanting to fix something and can’t believe it was tossed away because it was “a little broken.” At that moment, Regto realizes something about Rudo. He sees himself in those same objects that weren’t valued and tossed away.

So this is where I get to one of the things about Gachiakuta and Rudo in particular that speaks to me. Rudo, to me, is an example of a neurodivergent child and the text actually bothers to focus on how this affects his life. Now I know the moment I’ve said that there will be a lot of people who want me to explain, and the first thing is, no the manga doesn’t come out and say that Rudo is on the spectrum. But rather it lays a pretty explicit analogy to someone who may not be typical in some regard mentally or emotionally. I know in the space of neurodivergent individuals representation is… difficult. Not just to find in the media, but also represented in a way that isn’t just “they’re a super genius.” Because there are many many forms of neurodivergence and how the manifest can be different for many individuals. Someone with ADHD may have their life affected in ways different than someone diagnosed with Autism. This is where I think it's very important for me to say, I’m just one guy on the spectrum. I’m speaking from my personal experience but you shouldn’t take my opinion as gospel. This is just me and my experiences. And my personal reading of this  

So when I say, a “mentally different character” in the media can be a tricky tightrope to walk, I mean it. Wanting there to be a positive representation for a community that may not get representation, but also not wanting to be like some monolithic depiction of what living with one of these conditions may be like. And there are plenty of ways where this could go very wrong (Anyone remember the time Aquaman cured Autism?). So when the text can’t just say “I am X” it's not uncommon for the readers to begin to see or relate to how a character may act. Speaking of how they act, in the case of anime and manga another “complication” can occur in the fact that many of these characters can act… well whacky and that’s treated as most acceptable in the universe. Whereas in real life, its likely anywhere from Gon to Goku would get side eye with their behavior. And thus you have the basis for plenty of head canons, one prominently being a character’s place on the spectrum. 

Let's take any character, say Rill Boismortier from the series Black Clover. He’s a relatively second character in the series with an aptitude for art magic, who had locked himself in his room isolating himself from others till his butler reached him and now he’s a very eccentric, excitable, outgoing character. From the fact that he has a fixation on art to things like making sounds that could be read as vocal stimming, Rill could be read as an autistic character.

Or how about we look at one of the more memetic takes of the internet and all the jokes that Fern and Frieren from Frieren: Beyond the Journey’s End are autistic. This joke mainly comes from how in this world everything has a cool, somewhat mellow vibe with many people acting very muted. With Frieren herself struggling with making a distinction in the passage of time thanks to her elven aging and trying to understand the human condition. And Fern also a relatively reserved and subdued individual only really expresses her feeling a sensation of frustration or annoyance through “Kawaii pouting” puffing out her cheeks.

There are plenty more examples, but I wanted to illustrate that there are characters in manga and anime that I believe-yes, someone with neurodivergence could identify with, however, would I go as far as to say that this was the writer's original intention? Well choosing to err on the side of caution, I'm going to guess not likely. Someone could easily say, “you’re reading too much into it. There is nothing in the canon that outright says that. Rill is just a joke character, Frieren is a completely different species so it can’t really be neuro-atypical from a human standpoint, Fern’s pouting is just a gap moe trope.” And to be honest, I don’t necessarily think people holding these beliefs would be wrong. Nor do I wish to imply that if someone sees themselves in one of these characters that means they’re on the spectrum.

I'm saying there’s nothing wrong with either option. If you are someone neurodivergent and you see yourself in someone like Rill, that’s great. If you are someone who isn’t neurodivergent but still sees themselves in someone like Rill, that’s also great. The point I’m trying to make is that it may be unintentional, but a neurodivergent person seeing a neurodivergent story inside a specific character can happen and in many ways offer insights into the character.

And for someone like me who has spent a long time coming to grips with how my atypicality has affected my identity, Rudo’s story hit me. Hit me in a way I don’t think many series have. Rudo is a character who shows a fixation on trash, particularly broken pieces of trash. His old wounds he covers and just the feelings on this specific piece of clothing is able to make the feelings of his wounds go away. And just the way he described having emotion inside, but not being able to properly express it to the point he was doing self harm, it tore me up inside. 

Made even more dramatic by the fact that Rudo is having this flashback being triggered by Griss being stabbed. Griss is a guy Rudo has known for a day who is shown to be a cool guy, but most importantly, when Rudo spent his welcome party sulking in a corner all tied up in his shell, only for Griss to ask him about his future. Rudo truly was feeling like he was losing a fatherly figure again in front of him

This was one of the moments that in my mind showed me the sort of direction this series wanted to go in with Rudo. Edgy, dark, cool, and stylistic revenge series in manga have existed for years. In fact, they’ll exist long after Gachiakuta and myself have expired. Many of these series can vary on the portrayal of their MC, conflicted, ready to embrace destruction, righteous in their pursuit, yet Gachiakuta has been unique for me, seeing Rudo have all the hallmarks for a vengeful story yet people always come to speak with him on his behavior. 

Not in a sort of guidance counselor way, but more in a natural way of trying to make this kid who has had a life where he hasn’t had to properly think about/experience certain things life can throw at you and they want him to improve. From telling him it's okay to not know what he wants to do in the future, to letting him know it's okay to make mistakes, to learning how to properly have a conversation and connect with others. I think a lot of these moments can feel like sweet nothings, but for me I saw it as a part of growing up. Or rather something I wanted growing up. I’ve experienced many moments of my life where I felt lost not in small part to the fact it felt like no one could meet me on my ground. And something about Gachiakuta is the attempt that almost every character has made trying to reach Rudo and show him a form of empathy. And as the series has gone on that empathy has really changed. He went from a kid not understanding what was wrong about saying “I'm only working with you till fulfill my goal!,” demanding cooperation from others, to actively trying to ask for help when hears of an opportunity to come closer to his goal. 

This sort of vulnerability I think was present in his moment screaming his revenge. He’s visibly crying. Despite all the bluster and crassness, there’s clearly a frustrated and overwhelmed boy who has been condemned by a society that brands him “unclean.” This is also where I should mention Urana is an absolute master with art and expressions. Making everyone feel so alive. Rudo’s faces are an absolute highlight. Despite a person who seems set up to have a chip on his shoulder, he may be one of the wackiest in just how big he can let his emotions go. Which ties into our next part.

Zodyl and the Watchman Series

Now I'm sure you’re wondering, “Arkus, you said that this manga hasn’t hard confirmed Rudo is actually neurodivergent, yet you say the text makes the analogy so does someone finally say it?” Well to answer that, I’m gonna need to talk about the main villain of this series and the tools he’s after, The Watchman series.

Our seemingly main antagonist of the series is a man named Zodyl Typhon, leader of the organization The Raiders (Or the Vandals depending on the translation) a group of evil givers who seem to be devoted to the destruction of The Sphere. As they living in a world where the natural order is simply that they are a people who have garbage raining down upon them. Polluting them, crushing them, and people of the Abyss have gradually become accustomed to it all. Zodyl wants to shock the system and he wishes to get his hands on all the various powerful Jink known as the “Watchman series.” So far it's known that only Rudo’s gloves, Amo’s boots, and Zodyl’s coat are part of this set. 

Zodyl is depicted as an amoral, somewhat sociopathic person, with intense eyes, viewing people as experiments to test his theories, and showing practically no emotion. He describes each piece of the Watchman series as containing extremely powerful emotions in them. A normal person couldn’t use these items with going mad due to these emotions. Yet people like Rudo and Zodyl haven't gone mad. Well that’s being they’re not like others.

In one of the most painful visual analogies, Zodyl describes that in this world there are people born missing pieces that every other human is born with. This leaves them as something sort of empty. WIth Rudo knowing exactly what he’s talking about. This was already hinted at by Amo who says wearing her Watchman boots feels as though she’s a toy that had a new battery inside. Zodyl doesn’t think that missing something fundamental is a bad thing though, in his opinion not being born with it has made him a vessel for this power. 

I once again cannot say with a hundred percent certainty that Kei Urana was intentionally channeling the experiences of those who may be told “they’re not like others because they were born atypical” but it's so hard for me to not read it that way. Especially the part where Zodyl rejects the idea that there’s anything wrong with this. He’s not wrong for how he’s born, look at all the cool stuff he can do now. While Rudo stands there and thinks about how isolated he felt from everyone else. It's easy to see these as two very valid responses to someone with a mental health diagnosis, lamenting how this puts you at odds with others and how being different in this way makes it harder for you to connect. While the other rejects needing the validation of others, there isn’t a problem. 

Once again, no one just flat out says it, but so much of the subtext is basically there in your face in regards to Watchman and Zodyl’s speech. But the fact this power is only wielded by something that is described as a missing piece. With the image of a heart in pieces. To me, the emphasis placed on the value of one’s emotional and mental capacity as something that can be filled, like its just so out there how can I not see something there? 

Well maybe its because I want to?

Artistic Interpretation 

Look, I'm not gonna to give you a dry lecture on the value of artistic interpretation. I think we’re all mature enough that multiple people can have multiple different interpretations of a single world. With art being something that lends itself to being read in a variety of ways. I'm not making this post to delegitimize any interpretation.

Rather I wanted to come all the way back to the pin I put in when mentioning the unconventional story structures. Now it should come to no one’s surprise that the woman who was an assistant and student of the guy who made Soul Eater makes some bizarre choices. Not the least of which being the characters and tone.

No, rather I wanna touch on something that I find Urana and Okubo do better than a lot of people which is visual interpretation. Both utilize the visual aspect of this visual medium to make some points. But rather, both of them allow these visuals to hang out there and allow you the reader to come to your own interpretation of this. 

This type of storytelling in my opinion can force the audience to actually engage with the work in a deeper meaningful way. While some would argue that it leaves things open in a way that may never truly be satisfying. I think in the case of Gachiakuta it has less of that tha an Okubo work, but there are plenty of things I do believe Urana leaves out there for you to read as you will. 

When I see her going out of her way to make a doll with their heart missing and a man describing a feeling of them missing, Uruana is not expressly saying anything, but allowing us the audience to decide how we read it. I'm certain she has her own way of viewing this story, but I do appreciate that she’s allowed Gachiakuta to be a series where we are allowed some creative liberties. Especially in the fact this is a weekly shonen manga. A demographic I feel often can suffer from needing to make everything somewhat obvious in its meaning or intent. 

But Urana really knows how to capture this sort of vibe. Allow the art to speak for itself and I find myself having to put some of myself in the series when I read and interact with it. So while I’m sure there will be people who think I have basically convinced them of nothing and that this might all be reading to deep, I do at least want to point out that Urana herself has at least allowed for me to make these connections on my own and I think that is worth something at least on her part as a creative.

Conclusion

So yeah what was that all about? Welp like I said this was to be a more personal thinkpiece. One where I wanted to work through my own feelings on why this series had me captivated. Also it's possibly my attempt to broaden the discussion of Gachiakuta. 

Despite the fact many have made the prediction its gonna be a “big deal” it really isn’t. At least by pure sales wise. Nothing bad, but nothing remarkable at the time of writing this. Honestly its doing much better than a series that’s not on the extremely accessible SJ app. It’s a good series but it may just always be underground. 

Every influencer wants to be on the ground floor, whether it's this, Red Hood, Kagurabachi, Nue’s Exorcist, Astro Royale, Mama Yuyu, Centuria, etc. I get that hype and memes are a powerful thing in this internet consumer world. But I do want a series that may be big or important one day to touch on things that make it good beyond hype and anticipation. 

And for me that is what I got with Gachiakuta. There’s an element to it that I haven’t really felt in manga in other media. And the fact it could make me feel that… that’s special to me. I know I’ve talked about some heavy topics and I do hope I was as respectful as I possibly could be. Opening up like this was hard for me. 

As I do truly love this series and hoped I could illustrate why it resonated with me, perhaps it resonated with a lot of people who can see themselves in this one trashy boy.

I hope everyone reading can have that sort of character they see themselves in, and if you enjoyed please like or reblog as it tells me you'd be interested in reading more

[unsoundedcomic]

I feel like Duane might have called for the slum homes to be burned out years ago. Filthy parasites, all of them, burn the poors so they may have a greater chance of being closer to Ssael in the next life. To the fire pits with them all!

Durlyne is a majority Ssaelit city, and one of the two Aldish capitals of the Ssaelit faith. Outside of these two large, bustling cities, the world either actively persecutes Ssaelism, or only barely tolerates it. They say the Gefendur twin gods are dead, after all, and their god killed them. It's quite a rude belief.

Because the Ssaelit are so disliked even in much of Alderode, they are insecure, and very greedy with the little power they do have. That power is most easily seen in Durlyne, in how the Ssaelit there treat the Gefendur minority. The Gefendur there find it hard to get a leg up. They get elbowed out of local government, they have trouble finding housing, they have trouble practising their faith. They start to feel as insecure and truculent as the Aldish, even though nationally, Alderode has always been skewed towards the Gefendur.

And so these two faiths fight. But because the Gefendur are at a disadvantage inside Durlyne, they are most concentrated in the slums. The slums is a mix of all manner of people, from foreign refugees, to lowborn bastards, to exiled ghersit, to professional criminals, but most of them are Gefendur.

So! You have an area of the city that is rife with crime, heresy, poverty, and pervasive anti-Ssaelit sentiment. There are lowborn and exiled Ssaelit there, but it's really the domain of the violent and impoverished Gefendur, many of them organised into criminal gangs.

So Duane's feelings on the place are Complicated. On the one hand, he used to go in there to minister to Soud; on the other hand, you can't walk down the street without child prostitutes trying to sell you their ass and their pimp trying to guide you down an alley and cut your throat. Duane grew up in Durlyne, it's his hometown, and he knows the horrible things that have happened there in the slums (called Sevencrow Court, and Blue Boy Bridge). There legitimately is not a more merciful thing to do, he thinks, than to raze the place. Not necessarily because the people there are poor, or Gefendur, but because it feels like a wholly miserable nest of suffering and hopelessness, one that only spreads its misery to the rest of Durlyne thanks to the gangs.

It's not a "haha, filthy heretics and poors, die." It's a "Anteit Vaosa, these streets break my heart, Ssael, with your khert guide these lost souls to better lives."

[allwormdiet]

Interlude 6

Justice for Paige McAbee

This is. Fucking evil. Chaining a woman up like an animal and parading her around the courtroom. Like what the shit.

Utterly fucking barbaric

Brief detour I guess to provide exposition on the existence of rogues

Going from heartbreak to outrage this quickly in succession was some fucking whiplash when I first read this arc, fucking tell you what

Actual torture.

The inhumanity of this entire arrangement is borderline sickening to see play out. What an utter failure of the system

Oh hey you two

I can see how people would get. Touchy. About a power like that. But touchy enough for a life sentence is fucked.

Also, credit where it's due, Bakuda's ingenuity in this situation is still pretty well on display

Bakuda is playing with fucking fire here, and not just pyrokinesis, har har

Okay you know what, callousness and cruelty aside, this is a fucking badass display from Bakuda.

Okay so what the fuck is up with the ABB capes, actually. Bakuda built a bomb that would've devastated, like, the entire Eastern Seaboard, and probably even further beyond that into the west and north. I'd say that she was slumming it as part of a gang that's only got a minor presence in one city and a few neighboring areas, but honestly Lung feels just as cracked.

Dude basically only fights harder over time, he would've taken down everyone in that warehouse if Skitter didn't make a Hail Mary play with Newter's hallucinogen. Kaiser, Sundancer, Bitch, Newter, and one or both of the twins would've been fucking smoked, maybe Labyrinth if Coil's guys didn't bother to pull her out. This dude could've been putting up massive numbers throughout his entire reign as the head of the ABB.

So what the fuck was he doing instead? If he's a gang boss with this kind of power at his fingertips, where's the fucking appetite that should come with it? Skitter didn't even think he was an A-lister before they fought and he proved her wrong, she thought he was like, a step above Uber and Leet? In what world does that misconception become publicly accepted?

I'd say this is gonna bug me, but uhh, Lung's going to the fucking oubliette to end all oubliettes so it's a bit of a moot point, isn't it

Like, okay. Fucked up, sure thing. But this is still such a massive injustice; it was a one-time thing and she couldn't have possibly known if this was the first time it ever happened. You could've demanded training for her power, if nothing else, but you throw her into Hell on Earth. Fuck me.

This is a level of determination that I think has so far gone unmatched in this story. Like, I'll give Taylor time to pull off something even more outrageously self-harming for the sake of an objective, it's her story after all and there's a lot of words left, but Bakuda really is something else.

Of course that "something else" does include being an abrasive piece of shit, but hell, she's a parahuman, I don't think I've met one of them that's without some kind of baggage.

Maybe there's a world out there where after her trigger event she comes down on the other end of the hero/villain line. Bombs aren't exactly heroic but she could build non-lethally for standard use and save the big damage for shit like Endbringers. Plus the obvious potential of having a bomb Tinker as an EOD expert, that would be game-changing.

She'd still probably be an asshole, but like. You don't have to be pleasant to be a hero, we know that one for sure.

Alas.

I was torn between wanting Paige to get out of this and wanting Lung and Bakuda to get what's coming to them.

Hi Dragon, wish you weren't the warden of the worst prison I've ever heard of in my life, see you later in the story maybe

Also. Six hundred prisoners in the Birdcage. Not counting whoever's died. That's a fucking lot of them.

Wait what the fuck happened to Newfoundland

Oh, Dragon hates this too, well there's a small fucking mercy.

Also, "the hole the men opened into the women's half of the Birdcage" is a fucking alarming phrase. We're just fucking letting anything fly down here, huh? Jesus Christ.

Dragon's description of the Birdcage's security measures is. Fucking extreme. This is a fucking nightmare, an absolute cavalcade of human rights abuses that I can't even begin to fathom.

Have children been born in the Birdcage? If not, who's preventing that? Is everyone being covertly dosed with contraceptives to keep them from having children? Do the block leaders have people on hand to deal with abortions? How do you handle dietary restrictions? Religious restrictions? What if it turns out you were wrongly convicted?

Literally everything about this place is a horror show. Every implication is dark as fucking Vantablack.

Gross

I guess this is what passes for society down here, huh

Well shit, I guess I'm glad Bakuda has some enrichment at least.

Okay, so, Marquis is a supervillain who's taken over a cell block, and he's a Brockton native invested in learning what he's missed out on

...Easy money says he's Amy Dallon's old man.

Not entirely shocked that Lung's spent time behind bars, though I assume that was before he got his powers.

And uhh. I'm gonna be real, I feel kinda bad for Bakuda here. Like she's a piece of shit, obviously, but for all her insults she seemed happy to work for Lung, enough that she made a point of freeing him from the Protectorate and putting him back in charge when she could've stayed in charge, taken advantage of his arrest and done whatever she pleased

and now he's gonna kill her. Because she insulted him. Because it'll make life in prison easier.

I mean, shit. I do not like Bakuda's odds in this exchange. It probably doesn't take a lot for Lung to have her debilitated, and from there the kill is even easier. Maybe he dies too, but I don't expect that to be the case.

Current Thoughts

Justice for Paige McAbee

The Birdcage is, I think, a very reasonable simulacrum of Hell, and its very existence probably gives in-universe philosophers, ethicists, defense attorneys, and human rights activists fucking hives.

Also, justice for Paige McAbee

I'm not going to mourn Bakuda, but maybe I'll mourn the version of her that could've been in a kinder world.

Last thing, just in case we weren't clear:

Justice for Paige McAbee

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 1: Stuck

Birmingham, England, 1919

Much like America, it is an empire of industry. Giant factories tower over the slums and shacks, with drunks, thieves, and whores alike all sulking in the shadows. Smoke and ash cloud the sky and block out what little sun there is, as well as fill everyone’s lungs with foul air. With sparks flying everywhere it’s a miracle nothing catches fire. The gloomy and dreadful atmosphere is enough to make anyone faint, vomit, or lose hope altogether.

But I’ve got something these folks do not. 

I am an American.

While that may not be astonishing to some, to me it means that I’m independent, as well as rambunctious and a bit of a rebel even for my culture. My family always says I’m too rash and stubborn, and that it will diminish any chance of me finding a husband and settling down for a proper life. But I’m in no mood to marry, so sue me for actually enjoying my life.

However, at the moment I seem to be in a bit of a pickle. You see, I don’t travel much. Yes there’s the occasional trip out of state, but never in a million years did I think I’d ever go to England. Of all places, my family chose to vacation in Manchester, England. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a beautiful country with gorgeous countryside views and polite accents… that is until you reach the deep city. Then it gets bustling and dangerous, which is how I came to be where I am now. We decided to travel by train, stopping in Birmingham on the way to London before we headed home. Lord knows why I decided to stray away and get a better look at the intriguing shops, but after an hour of desperately searching for my family it finally sunk in that I was, quite frankly, alone. Talk about a dumb-headed move on my part. I passed back and forth through the train station for hours as night fell, growing more and more worried about what kinds of danger Small Heath, Birmingham has hiding in the darkness. 

Right now, people are giving me mixed looks of pity, confusion, and judgment. I know I’m not much to look at, with my messy blonde hair stuffed under a simple hat and my slim figure dressed in a gray dress with black heels. I probably look much richer than I really am, which makes my fear of criminals spike even more.

“Might I help you, young lady?” A sinister voice calls out.

He's a drunk, I’m sure of it. A man in a ragged overcoat staggers over, and he’s reeking of alcohol.

“No, I’m waiting for someone. Please leave me alone.” 

“Oh, no. You’re all alone? Perfect…” He licks his lips and starts reaching his hand out-!

“Back off! She’s with me.”

I look over and see an older man wearing a trenchcoat and bowler hat. He’s got a simple mustache, is smoking a pipe, and carrying a briefcase. Is he a cop?

“Says who, old man?” The drunk slurs.

But instead of answering, the man slugs the drunk in the nose and ushers him off. When he turns back to me the bowler hat man extends a hand to shake.

“Excuse me, miss. I’m Inspector Chester Campbell. Who might you be?”

“I- I’m Verena, Verena Steenstra.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Verena. I’m here for private matters, sent by Churchill on account of a BSA munitions robbery. I am here to weed out prime suspects and possibly recover some stolen items that belong to the Crown. You wouldn’t happen to know an Arthur or Thomas Shelby, would you?”

I shake my head. “Sorry, can’t say I have. I’m new to these parts, just having arrived from America yesterday.”

He nods. “Well it’s best if you don’t, miss. They’re ruthless, the lot of them. Gangsters, bookmakers, racketeers. The gang they’re part of call themselves the Peaky Blinders. You best be getting indoors instead of wandering these dreadful streets at this hour.”

When Campbell sees my uneasy expression he frowns. “You do have a place to stay, right?”

“Actually sir, I was… left here by mistake. My family left hours ago and I’ve been here ever since.”

Campbell’s eyes soften a little. “I’m sorry to hear that, miss. If I knew the area I’d find you an inn or hotel, so the most I can do is guide you to the desk clerk in the train station.” He gestures for me to follow him and leads me over to the back desk, where a middle-aged lady is typing. “Hello, would you happen to know where this young lady might find any lodgings?”

The lady gives me a once-over and tilts her head. “Maybe ask Harry at the Garrison. That’s a local pub nearby. You can’t miss it. Just ask for Harry.”

We thank her and head back outside, where it’s starting to get dark.

“I’m sorry to leave you here, but I’ve got my own appointments to attend.” Campbell grips his briefcase and waves to signal a passing cab. “You’ll be alright?”

I try to give a convincing nod. “Yeah, as good as I can I guess. Good luck with your investigation.”

“Best of luck to you too, miss. You’ll need it if you want to survive this wicked city.”

And with that, the inspector climbs into the cab and is driven off. Leaving me, once again, alone. But at least this time I have an idea of where to go and what to do. I tightly grip my small suitcase and begin walking down the bustling streets, trying my best to ignore the… less than Christian crowd that hovers around. 

“God does not care if you live in a slum or in a mansion!”

A man’s voice draws my attention, and I look to find the source coming from down the street. He sounds Jamaican, and seems to be a minister of sorts. 

“God does not care if you are rich or you are poor!”

I approach slowly, not wanting to interrupt. “Excuse me, sir? Where would I go to find the Garrison?”

The man frowns at me, confused. “What’s a lass like you doing in this part of town? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

“I understand that. I’m looking to find a place to stay, so I’ll ask again. Where can I find the Garrison?”

The man looks at me as if I’ve signed my own death note, then points to the building down the street. “There. But God be with you if you want to persevere with what kind of men go in there.”

I thank him and walk towards the building. It’s definitely a pub, because there’s drunk men staggering out and vomiting everywhere. 

“Look out!” Someone shouts.

Without warning, a small person plows into me and sends us tumbling into the dust.

“Dear God, what on Earth…?” I gather myself up and get a look at the person, or should I say kid. He’s a young boy with a conservative haircut, wearing dark pants, a white shirt, and gray vest. One might say he dresses just as professional as any stockbroker. 

“I’m sorry!” He says in a worried manner and looks as if I’m about to slap him. “I didn’t mean to, I swear!”

I gotta say, seeing this boy speak in an English accent is downright cute!

I kneel down to seem less intimidating and hold out a hand. “Hey hey, it’s alright, kid. It was an accident. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

He nods and shakes my hand, now looking at me differently. “You sound different.”

“I’m American, from New York. Now what was it you were running from?”

“Oh, right!” He points to the alley he just ran from. “I’m playing hide-and-seek with my aunt.”

I frown. “And you’re out here, in the dark, at this time of night? It may not be my place to say, but you should probably go back inside. Where’s your aunt now?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well that’s not going to get us anywhere. You got a name?”

He smiles and nods eagerly. “I’m Finn, Finn Shelby. I’m 10 going on 11!”

“Wow, that’s old! So Finn, how about you head inside with me and we can find a way of contacting your aunt? That sound alright?”

“Finn! We were looking for you!” A man comes walking up, wearing dark clothes and a cap. When he sees me next to Finn, the man’s eyes darken. “Who are you?”

I ignore his question and look at Finn. “Do you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s my brother John.”

Now I know that I can trust this man. “I’m nobody. Just a lost tourist who’s looking out for Finn.”

The man looks confused. “Why? You don’t know him.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’d look out for him as if he was my own child because no kid should be wandering around at this time of night.”

He scoffs. “What are you, some nun or midwife? Doesn’t matter. Come on, Finn.” John takes the boy’s hand and starts walking away. 

“Nice to meet you!” Finn calls before they’re out of sight.

“Goodbye!”

Now to get back to the task at hand. While being as inconspicuous as possible, I sneak past the gruff men and enter the strangely quiet bar. I gotta say, it’s surprisingly clean. Compared to the filthy world outside you’d think the king himself would eat here. But I know better. I can tell this place has seen its fair share of violence, but I give credit to the barman for keeping it spiffy. Gruff and sketchy-looking Brits sit scattered all over the room. Murmured conversations ghost around the room, confirming that this is yet another place I shouldn’t be at. A few turn their heads, but seem uninterested… for now. I hold my suitcase close and discreetly make my way to where the barman is standing.

“You don’t know me, but the desk clerk at the train station said to ask for someone named Harry.”

The barman, just like everyone else, seems to think I’m a fish out of water. “I’m Harry. What do you want?”

“She said you could tell me where to find a place to stay. I’ll pay what I can, I swear. I just need somewhere to sleep until I can find a way to get back to America.”

His face changes. “America? You mean you’re stuck here?”

“For the time, yes.”

First Harry goes to say something but then seems to look over at someone behind me. This changes his demeanor and he gestures for me to sit.

“Can I get you anything?”

I shake my head. “I don’t drink.”

“I do,” a woman’s voice says behind me.

A dark-haired woman wearing a gray suit sits up next to me, her face being shielded by a hat.

Harry nods respectfully at the woman and pours a shot of whiskey. “On the house, Polly.”

She gladly takes the glass and downs it, looking at me with calculating eyes.

“Name’s Polly, love. Polly Gray.”

“You seem to be a woman who knows what she’s doing, and how to conduct authority,” I reply.

“And you seem to be a woman who has nowhere to go. Am I right, love?”

I look away and become more interested in staring at the table. “Yes, ma’am. I’m currently homeless, jobless, penniless, and on the verge of hopeless.” I look back up. “But I’ve got a song in my heart and a gleam in my eye, so that’s all I can do for now.”

Polly laughs and twirls the shot glass in her hand. “Well a song and dance isn’t going to take you far, love. It’s best if you come with me.” She stands back up and starts pulling her coat back on.

My thoughts freeze. Did I hear that right? This person, this complete stranger who has no inkling of who I am, wants me to go with them? Where? And what for? Inspector Campbell said to be careful.

“Wait- what? What do you mean?”

Polly walks to the door, unfazed by my questions. “I saw you interacting with Finn. You treat him as both a child and an adult, which is something I respect. You’re not too sour but still know when to show a firm grip. I’d like to hire you as his tutor. He needs help studying, as well as someone to make sure he doesn’t shoot his eye out.”

My jaw drops. “Shoot his… But how-?”

“Don’t ask. I have to deal with the most ridiculous idiots this side of England, you have no idea!” She scoffs as I follow her back into the inky night. “The fact is that I need a tutor, and you need a roof over your head. So, do you want the job or not?”

I try to form words but all that comes out is a babbling mess. My thoughts are fried! What reason do I have to even trust this Polly character?

“You’re conflicted,” Polly states plainly. “I can understand why.”

“Yes! Because- because I’m alone! I- I have no one to help, but everyone says I can’t trust anyone here, and then you happen to be passing by… I don’t know what to make of it!”

Polly puts a hand on my shoulder. “Love, one of the things I always go by is my faith. If fate had it so you would be here to help Finn and get my attention, then God has spoken. My trust is not so easily won over, so I suggest you consider this chance very seriously.”

She’s right. Everything’s led to this. Besides, she’s right. I need a job.

“Yes, I accept your kind offer.” I hold out a hand and we shake. “Thank you, Mrs. Gray.”

“I may be your employer but there’s no need for that formality. Polly’s fine, love. And yours?”

“Verena Nora Steenstra,” my name flies right off the tongue. 

“That’s Dutch, I’d imagine?”

I nod. “Yes, after my great grandmother. My father’s Dutch, my mother’s Irish.”

“Ah yes, you Americans and your mixed heritages.”

She doesn’t seem upset by it, and I’m glad she doesn’t inquire further. My family isn’t cruel, but we’re not exactly the most wanted people in New York. My uncle on my mother’s side is part of the Irish mob in Brooklyn, so our reputation is a bit strict.

Polly leads me through the dark streets and people seem to be aware not to test her. Crowds scatter away to let us pass, not even daring to meet her eye.

“You have authority here?”

“Of sorts. People know better not to start a quarrel. Here we are.”

The house itself is simple-looking on the outside, something I admire. Polly opens the door and shows me inside, which displays a traditional cross hung in the hallway. I follow her past a kitchen and into a small room near the back, one containing a simple bed and vanity as well as a single window.

“Bathtub’s down the hall. I’ll leave you here to settle in, I trust the lads will guide you through the house. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must attend a family meeting. Finn’s around here somewhere if you wish to chat.”

I set my suitcase on the bed and look at Polly with sincere gratitude. “Thank you so much. You really saved me from a tight pickle, and I promise I will do everything I can to repay you.”

Polly smiles and, to my uttermost surprise, comes over to give me a hug. “No problem, love. You seem like a decent girl, even if you are American.” She snickers and goes to walk out, then turns to say: “One more thing: when you meet Thomas, just know he’s a bit rough around the edges.”

I squint in bafflement. “Thomas? Who’s-?”

But she exits before I can finish. So just to be clear: Now I need to teach a boy from a family I just met and am expecting to meet someone who’s ‘rough around the edges.’ Yay?

[strxwberrybtch]

A Hellish Love Story // Pt. 1

Pairing(s): Vox x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs

A/N: Hello my lovies! This is my first fic here on tumblr- it's a little short butttt I'm hoping to make this a multi-part series. This will definitely be a NSFW series with eventual smut ;) I would love to hear your input on this first part! Without further ado, enjoy :)

---

In life, the art of literature enthralled you. It captivated you in more ways than one. The way that words could transport you to another place completely fascinated you. At first, you treated it as a hobby or one could argue a distraction. One to drown out the harsh words that your parents constantly threw back and forth at each other.

It was no surprise that you found yourself constantly with a pen and paper in hand, jotting down your never ending ideas. You started taking it more seriously once you started high school. Normal english classes didn't excite you as much as the creative writing course did. Once you were done with school, you began to devote your young adulthood to writing. You quickly found a sufficient job and instantly got to work. All you wanted was to do was share your creative visions with the world. You wanted people to feel the passion and emotion that you felt while writing it.

It was a somewhat peaceful day at the shitty office you worked at. You had pulled an all nighter the night before working on a screenplay. Not just any screenplay though. This had to of been your best work yet. It was your ticket out of the slums and to the big leagues. This was your chance.

You sat in your tiny cubicle typing your heart away. Solely relying on caffeine and adderall- which you may or may not have abused from time to time. But this was your livelihood, your purpose in life if you will. The sun had slowly began to set at the office. Many of your fellow peers were chit-chatting about their plans for the weekend. You easily tuned them out as you focused on the writing in front of you. Feeling a wave of tiredness, you popped another pill into your mouth- washing it down with your coffee. The adrenaline and thought of being so close to being finished had you eager and motivated. You almost didn’t acknowledge the loud screech of the building’s fire alarm.

Apparently a fire had broken out and quickly began to ensue absolute chaos within the building. Of course with the building being in a not so fortunate area- the sprinklers had stopped working years ago. While your coworkers scrambled to escape the ever growing deadly smoke and flames, you stayed behind at your desk. You anxiously gnawed at your nails, waiting for your files to download onto a usb drive. You cursed at yourself for getting carried away with writing and not saving throughout the day as you usually did. Your career's future was on that computer. You’d rather die than lose it all.

Unfortunately that’s where your human life had come to a fiery end, engulfed in the flames along with your life’s work. So you assume that’s why you ended up with fiery, crimson eyes and the ability to manipulate fire. Ironic.. in a shitty sorta way. Scratch that… a very shitty way.

After seeing ‘Writers Wanted’ at the end of a VoxTek commercial, your heart fluttered at the thought of pursuing your passion in the afterlife. Hell, you did die for it so you might as well give your death meaning. You quickly memorized the address and beelined it to the VVV tower.

Given your obvious passion for the job, you were immediately hired by a higher up employee, of course with the quick text of approval from Vox. After getting a brief job description, you were over the moon excited. Writing scripts for TV, like are you kidding?? You had spent your entire mortal life trying to get to that point in your career. Who woulda thought all it took was well… your life.

You didn’t have think twice before signing over your soul to the demon overlord. Why would you? Selling your soul in exchange for your dream job was an easy decision. Especially since it came with great pay and an apartment to live in.

As for Vox though, you really never saw him too much. When you did he always gave a charming smile your way which you kindly reciprocated. He was undeniably attractive, even with a TV for a head.

Whilst working at the V tower you were able to meet the one and only adult star, Angel Dust. He quickly introduced you to Cherri Bomb, and boom (no pun intended) your trio of friendship was born.

It’s been a few years since then and that’s how you ended up here, sitting at your desk aimlessly typing away listening to a very whiny spider demon.

“Come onnnn Y/N!! We haven’t gone out in forever and we both have the night off for once” Angel exasperated, throwing his arms up into the air, desperately trying to convince you to go out with himself and Cherri.

You sighed quietly to yourself knowing this wasn’t going to end soon. He had been going on and on about how you work too much and haven’t been able to have fun for the past 20 minutes now. You rubbed your temples and took off your blue light glasses. Quickly closing your laptop and spinning around in your chair, you were met with Angel laying upside down on your bed, with his head hanging off the side.

“Okay! Fine! You win! And you shouldn’t lay like that,” You laughed while leaning down to lightly flick his forehead.

Angel swatted your hand away and sat up. Though you could tell he did it too fast after he placed a hand to his head, feeling dizzy from all the blood rushing back to the rest of his body. All you could do was shake your head and smile at the goof.

“HAHA YES!! I’ll text Cherri and let her know. Now get your ass up outta that chair and get ready! Show them what all of hell’s been missin lately,” He winked and quickly picked up his phone to message the missing piece to our trio.

You rolled your eyes briefly and went into your bathroom to make yourself look presentable.

“Can you find me something to wear pretty pleaseee!” You shouted from the bathroom.

“Oh you know I gotcha toots,” By hearing the muffled tone of his voice you could just tell he was smirking. You had a feeling you’d regret asking for his help but quickly shook the thought away. Angel was right. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you went out with your two troublemaker friends. It had to of been at least a few months. You needed this.

You deserved this.

With one last glance at your bare, tired face you got to work. Seeing as it had been forever, you decided to go all out. It took only about an hour or so for you to be satisfied with your hair and makeup. Once finished you came out of your bathroom to see Angel was no longer on your bed. However replacing him was the outfit he had picked out for you.

A simple black crop top, the shortest denim skirt you owned, a silver chain belt that connected with hearts, and to top it all off a pair of black chunky heeled boots. He knew you all too well.

After putting on the outfit you stared at yourself in the mirror. You almost didn’t recognize the reflection in front of you. It reminded you of when you were in high school. Sure you were addicted to writing but your living friends were a little bit of a bad influence, much like the ones you have now. They had convinced you to get a fake id so that you could go clubbing with them. And to be honest, you were glad they did. Who would’ve wanted to miss out on a early 2000’s club scene? You had a lot of fun during that time. Yet, that’s the very place you discovered the drug that got you through pretty much the rest of your living life.

A smile began to spread across your face as you checked yourself out. The outfit accentuated every part of your body perfectly. Out of all the time you’ve spent in hell, this was undoubtedly the best you had ever looked. With one last once over in the mirror, you turned off your bedroom lights and went to find Angel.

It didn’t take long to find him sprawled out on your couch with his phone in hand. A VoxTech sitcom played quietly on your tv in the background.

“You ready to go?” He asked without looking up once he heard you enter the living room.

“What do you think?” You questioned him with a coy smile.

He quickly glanced up at you and dropped his phone onto his lap. In an instant he was standing in front of you.

“Holy shit toots! I knew you were good looking but this makes me question my own sexuality,” He said in a teasingly, seductive voice as he twirled you around.

“Shut up loser,” You laughed, shoving his shoulder.

“I’m just speaking the truth! But come on Cherri is already there,”

You turned off everything and locked your apartment. You held onto the door knob for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting go to trail after Angel.

---

It wasn’t long before you and Angel arrived at Club 666, one of the Pride Ring’s most popular clubs owned by your boss’s situationship, Valentino. You never really came across the moth man while you were at work, only hearing stories from Angel Dust. Some of the stories were good but the majority… not so much. It's pretty safe to say, you don't want to cross him while he's in one of his moods.

After climbing out of the cab, your hands found the hem of your skirt almost instantly. You hastily pulled down the short material that had ridden up your thighs on the way there, almost flashing the black lace panties you decided to wear. Once situated outside of the club, hand in hand, you and Angel made your way into the booming club. After fighting your way through the seemingly never ending crowd, you spot Cherri at the bar downing a shot with a group of random sinners, not very surprising.

She perks up at the sight of you and Angel, waving her hand in the air with a toothy grin.

“There you fuckers are! I thought you up and ditched me for a second there,” She said quickly pulling Angel into a tight hug. Once she got to you she paused for a moment with both her hands on your shoulders.

“Holy shit Y/N, you look hot!!” She exclaimed examining every part of you.

“Awe thanks Cherri,” You smiled and brought her into a warm hug.

“Hey! How come when I complimented you earlier I got shoved?!” Angel asked with his arms crossed.

“Because I’m used to your flirty compliments,” You laughed as his pouty expression slowly turned into a sly smile.

He brushed his hair back and huffed out, “Point taken. Alright enough bullshit. Let’s get this party started bitches!”.

---

You had lost track of how many shots you and your friends had taken. You knew it had to of been a lot though with how much the club was spinning. It wasn’t spinning in a bad way though. Sure you’d feel like shit in the morning but at this point you didn’t care. The lights of the dance floor strobed bright green as it flashed through the fog. You felt euphoric and giddy as you danced alongside Cherri.

Angel had ditched you both pretty early on once he noticed Val. He took place under one of Valentino’s lengthy arms. Even in your drunken state, you glanced over a few times to make sure he was okay. And from what you observed he was laughing with a fellow star, taking in the moth’s red smoke. Cherri broke you out of your worry as she tapped on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna go grab another round yeah? Want one?” She slurred with a lazy smile, shouting over the intense music.

You thought for a brief moment before slightly slurring back, "Sure why not!"

You watched as her form slowly disappeared through the sea of dancing, sweaty bodies. Feeling the music, you felt yourself truly let loose. This was the most fun you had in a very long time. A dazed smile found its way across your lips as you swayed your body to the beat of the music. You danced without a care in the world. As if nobody was watching.

However, someone was watching.

From a secluded area of the club, a certain TV demon sat with a drink in one of his clawed hands...

Watching your every move.

///

AHHHH I really hope you guys enjoyed this first part. I wrote it in one sitting... oops XD. Let me know what you think!!

[anarchywoofwoof]

“Poor people used to live in slums. Now the economically disadvantaged occupy sub-standard housing in the inner cities. And they’re broke. They’re broke. They don’t have a negative cash-flow position — they’re fucking broke. Because a lot of them were fired. You know, fired. Management wanted to curtail redundancies in the human resources area, so many people are no longer viable members of the workforce.” — George Carlin

[glittergear]

Un-horny BG2 mods

Ok, so I often hear that BG2 mods are very horny--not denying that, but here are some horny-free BG2 mods that I enjoy. I'm only including Quest and NPC mods here. I'm also only including mods that I have entirely played through myself.

The White Queen, by Lava: a quest mod that allows player to visit brand new place - Silent Swamps - where something happened some time ago. Curious? Let yourself discover what lies under the layers of the mud, meet the White Queen and her servants. Also, the music is bangin'

I Shall Never Forget, by Lava: This Baldur's Gate 2 mod allows you to work with Orion - a mage who has lost the sense of his life. Either help him regain what he lost or let him die without the faintest ray of hope.

Southern Edge, by Lava: Southern Edge is a new district for Athkatla available from the very start, once you talk to Gaelan and hear his offer. You can get a Book of Intelligence as a reward for one of the quests, and there's a scribe who will buy your unneeded quest documents (like The Tome of Amaunator, the Noontime Ritual, the Book of Kaza, etc. It's a nice lore-friendly way to get rid of some items)

Ooze's Lounge, by Lava: The mod introduces a brand new part of Athkatlan sewers. You may now use the originally inactive grate in Slums to enter a locked part of the sewers and discover its dark corners. The mod offers three new areas as well as a couple of mini-quests, new items and graphics.

Yoshimo Romance, by Lava: Mod includes 16 timered talks with Yoshimo (pre-Brynnlaw) plus those fired by circumstances - including talk in Brynnlaw and at entrance of Spellhold. Those who love reading may also install additional portion of text - dialogues for both male and female players fired by in-game events. There's no horniness here; the most you can do is kiss his cheek once, IIRC

Everything else, by Lava: seriously, all of his mods are great, and none of the ones on his site are horny

Trials of the Luremaster, by Argent77: This mod makes the Icewind Dale expansion "Trials of the Luremaster" available to BG2:EE (v2.0 or later), Siege of Dragonspear and EET (Enhanced Edition Trilogy).

✨Adrian✨, by Rhealla: Adrian has lived an interesting life, for lack of a better term, though he's hoping to finally put his past behind him. Aside from his magic, he has a background in espionage and a decadent -- some might say romantic -- streak that has gotten him into trouble in the past. He once pursued (and ultimately wrecked) a political career with one of the most notorious organizations in the Realms, and may very much enjoy the opportunities for intrigue the Shadow Thieves have to offer... if you can drag him away from fighting with the Harper and the Red Wizard long enough to notice, that is. Don't let his alignment scare you off. He's the least evil Evil character in the game, and his alignment can seamlessly shift to LN. He does fine in my good-aligned playthroughs. His romance isn't particularly horny--he offers once, but you can turn him down just fine (and there are multiple ways to tell him no). He's by far my favorite romance and favorite NPC in the game; I am not normal about him at all; and I could probably write an entire essay about his character arc. Please do try him out

Sir Ajantis by jastey: With this modification Ajantis can be acquired as a member of the PC's group after the fight in the Windspear Hills (which was not changed by the mod principally). The player must first solve a quest to free Ajantis from Firkraag's ransom. You have the option to continue his romance from BG1 or start a new romance with him--I've done the new romance route, and I didn't notice any horniness.

[help-me-im-in-the-fandom]

Okay, so with all the ATLA stuff going on with the disgraceful live action series, I have been inspired so here is an idea.

When the Convergence happens and the Spirit World is thrown into a mess, a small slum district of Republic City is caught in the crossfire.

Gotham District is suddenly displaced into a new world, about early 1800’s maybe?

So starts the City of Gotham, born in a flash of light into a deep swamp across the bay from the City of Metropolis. The people quickly work to hide themselves in this new world, and the few earthbenders that were among them were able to move what buildings they had into the large cave system beneath the surface as they set up temporary shelters, very aware that the bustling people across the bay could see them.

The Metropolis people who did come to check on what was going on assumed the newly built area to be made my the miscreant and lawless population of their city, and the Gothamites, scornfully, allowed the misconception to stand.

They hide the few member of their community who can bend away after one awful day where a young earth bender girl was accused of witchcraft and almost burned at the stake while joining a company of people searching for supplies. A rule is made then, that no one would ever bend above the surface, and no one would ever speak of benders either.

Fast forward a few centuries, and one night Bruce Wayne watches his parents get murdered, and decides on two things.

1) To never allow another person to be orphaned on his watch.

So starts Batman, the protector of Gotham on the Surface.

2) To make sure no one was so in need that they had to commit crimes in order to survive.

So starts a series of bending schools and food banks in the Underground, the Sacred part of Gotham that no blood should ever be shed in. All of which are funded by Bruce Wayne the skilled Earthbender.

When Bruce begins to find himself taking in children, he finds out that all of them are benders themselves, and is excited to teach them bending himself. Though he does enforce one rule, to never bend in costume.

Okay now onto what I think the Batfam would be as Benders! This is my own opinion you don’t have to agree, just don’t be rude in comments!

Alfred:

Alfred is a waterbender, kind and soothing but never destroyed and always there. He is the lifeblood of the family, even though he hides behind the title of a Butler he is really everyone’s grandfather/father.

Bruce:

Bruce is an earthbender, results and determined, never moving and unbreakable. He has devoted himself to his beliefs and to his family, and nothing will ever change that.

Dick:

I think Dick would be a Firebender, while Airbender would be an easy answer, it doesn’t really suit him. Dick has a mean streak and donned the Robin suit in order to commit literal murder, he almost killed Joker, and he fights with Bruce constantly. He is a smoldering flame that will burn bright and hot but keep you warm on even the coldest of nights, he has so much love and affection and to me, he just embodies the character of a firebender, like Uncle Iroh.

Babs:

I think Babs would be a fire bender, similar to what is said above with Dick, but also the fact is, she chose to become a vigilante herself, she chose to fight and protect despite not having anyone to support her at first. When she was paralyzed she still fought, she still does everything she can to protect her friends and family.

Jason:

Jason embodies the Earth, calm and strong and unmoving. Each decision he makes is with reason and choice, and he is confident and willful but also soft when needed. When Jason is revived and filled with anger it shakes his foundations and his morals are shattered, but he reigns destruction like a landslide, devastating and all consuming and utterly unstoppable. Perhaps as he heals he learns to Lavabend, to put the anger and hurt and pain to control and tame the destructive force.

Cass:

Cass is a waterbender, she is used to moving with the tides and rolling with the punches, she is calm and consistent, but also powerful and strong. She can heal just as much as she can hurt, and be beautiful and powerful at the same time.

Steph:

Steph is an airbender, she is carefree and playful and doesn’t need physical things to be happy. She can never sit in one place to long, she wants to know everything and meet every one. She is kind but not merciful, and when she is angered she is as powerful as a tornado and just as destructive.

Tim:

Tim is an earthbender, he is headstrong and willfully stubborn, he has devoted his entire being to his beliefs and cannot be persuaded away.

Duke:

Duke is an airbender, though his meta gene may affect the power he can use. He is calm and straightforward, but dances with the blows life gives him and learns to adapt.

Damian:

Damian I think is a waterbender, he is strong and powerful like the sea, ever changing and never the same. The sea can be calm and merciful or harsh and deadly, and I think that embodies what Damian can be. He can also learn to be kind, to be gentle and loving and oh so very careful. Perhaps part of his recovering is learning how to heal, to use his powers to help instead of harm.

So! That’s it! If anyone has anything to add or if this inspires any fics, pls add them!

Also, here have a drawing I made while thinking about this!

[remyfire]

Now I'm thinking too hard about some of the surgeons and my personal headcanons for them again, god fucking help me.

Thinking about Hawkeye raised in a rural community with Daniel being more of a horse-and-buggy doctor who made house calls just as often as he saw people in his office or his home. Thinking about Hawk who was a child when he was first needed to hold pressure on a belly wound, not yet a teenager when he became the only person who could assist if someone made it to the Pierce house in the middle of the night and needed emergency care. Thinking about how money never even occurred to him because Daniel's been getting paid more often in eggs and bread and fresh crops and delicious fish and services in turn for as long as Hawk's been alive. A man who walked into medical school already having seen and experienced far, far more of the visceral parts of surgery than anybody else there, who got mistaken for a prodigy, who never thought to correct them but instead expected them all to keep up.

Thinking about Trapper growing up in the thick of Boston slums where it was so much harder to get adequate healthcare, just a kid hearing about how almost all of his friends were supposed to have a baby sibling on the way, but now they're not. How often the men in his area—physical laborers—would be laid off after they lost a limb, how it would pull his friends out of school one by one once they completed their requisite education because they needed to work when their parents no longer could. How many times he had to see someone sick or injured and having nowhere to go for care because they couldn't afford it, coughing on the side of the road, bleeding in an alley. A man who walked into medical school with more fucking determination than anyone else there, gritted teeth, fire in his chest, because he'd be damned if he watched that cycle continue.

Thinking about BJ in a fine home, expensive neighborhood, upper class, parents determined to tick their way up the ladder into new money by marrying their kids into wealthier families so that by extension, they can experience the height of luxury. His grandfather's legacy which led to his father's excellent private practice, high prices, tied up neatly in a bow of how disdainfully he'd often speak of his patients or colleagues at home. The Depression hitting and wiping out his father's and grandfather's money—stored in banks, in stocks, in bonds—instantaneously, and how his father had to pivot to barely making anything because there was so little that his patients could give, and how cold it made him because why should he be a surgeon if he doesn't even get paid for his work? Why should he help anybody at all when he'd receive so little personal benefit? A full eighteen years immersed in his father's bitterness, every minute spent distancing himself from him. A man who walked into medical school having already cut them off cleanly, a mission in his chest, the drive to provide care out of compassion, his principles already firmly locked in place, his desire to be the best out of anybody else around him so that no one ever has to feel like they need to beg him so that he would deign to save their life.

I'm unwell about the surgeons. I don't know if y'all knew this or not.

[dailycharacteroption]

Hybrid Class Review: Shaman part 4

(art by sarahfinnigan on DeviantArt)

Spirits

Now that we’ve touched on the basics and the archetypes, it’s time to take a deeper look at the spirits themselves. Now, obviously I’m not going to go over every spirit in it’s totality, that’s what the entries about spirits throughout the rest of the blog are for, but I’ll go over them in broad strokes.

Such spirits originally shared names with the core set of mysteries available to oracles, but they have since branched out in their own ways, revealing spirits with no equivalent in the oracle class.

Several spirits are elemental in nature, ruling over one of the elements or an offshoot of them, such as Flame, Frost, Stone, Waves, Wind, and Wood. (no metal though. Might be good for a homebrew for the patreon, hmmm..)

Others deal with similar natural things, but not directly elements, such as Heavens, Life, Mammoth, and Nature, reflecting the cosmos, life itself, and of course, specific beast types like megafauna.

A few others deal with things that are a greater part of the cosmos, but perhaps seem unnatural or otherworldly to most mortals, such as the deathly spirits of Bones, or the completely otherworldly Dark Tapestry spirits.

Still more are different in that they are the spirits of things associated with mortal civilization. Guardians spirits of Ancestors or Tribe, furiously wild spirits of Battle, scholarly spirits of Lore, and even spirits of community identity like those of the Slums.

But what exactly are spirits in this context? The vibe of the shaman class seems to be that the spirits they call upon are the invisible sentiences of every object and concept in the universe. Everything from nature to death to instances of specific elements to even things like social constructs like ancestral legacies and the act of learning and storing information. These are the entities that you contact when you commune with nature or speak with stones using the appropriate spells and so on.

As such, some spirits may be incredibly old, ranging from a spirit of a specific tree that has existed for decades to the spirit of the forest itself which has persisted for millenia. Meanwhile, some spirits may be fairly young, such as the spirit of a newly constructed building.

Of course, not every spirit exists within their element all the time. Fire spirits may only constantly persist in areas of volcanic activity, but may exist in a dormant form within every flammable substance and life form, or perhaps wander bodiless in search of something about to burn. Meanwhile, Bone spirits linger everywhere, waiting to quietly observe death and the process of decay, but also of rememberance.

On that note, we have to consider that the behavior of spirits is likely also influenced by the collective unconscious. Consider that bone and ancestor spirits likely did not exist until mortals began to mourn the dead and honor their ancestors, and lore spirits likely only existed in the realms of the gods before mortals began accumulating knowledge. Such things might also explain quirks of personality found in specific spirits as well. A spirit of waves associated with violent storms may be very different than one representing the relatively calm waters around a coral reef, for example.

There’s also the chance that such spirits might be connected to more powerful beings in the great beyond as well. Consider the elemental spirits and how they may be connected to actual elementals and the like, for example, while dark tapestry spirits may be linked to malign intelligences from between the stars. How exactly these spirits relate to such entities may vary, with some being one in the same with outsiders or entities, while others may merely be aspects, and others still may be completely unrelated but exist in the same parts of both the material plane and greater cosmos.

From a roleplay perspective, also consider how a spirit bonded to the shaman will act compared to those they merely contact temporarily as they wander. A primary spirit may have a more personal relationship with their shaman and learn from them of mortal ways, while a wandering one may struggle to understand things outside of their narrow focus, for example.

All said, I hope that was an enlightening look at spirits. Tomorrow, we’ll see about wrapping things up with the final thoughts on the class!

[bespectacledbun]

The World of IkePri — Obsidian's capital

[not really sure what this is exactly other than a way to keep all my thoughts organized and in one place. I talk a lot about the worldbuilding and settings of ikepri on discord with my friends, but it gets hard to keep track of everything, so I figured it was just best to make posts on Tumblr for it so I can keep it all under one tag]

Anyway, I was reading Chevalier's sequel route and got to chapter 3, when Chev and Emma go into town and tour around the capital of Obsidian. My immediate observation was the actual location of the town vs the fortress of the royal family:

Just like Rhodolite's capital, the capital town is located close to the royal residence; however, unlike Rhodolite's capital it is not located directly within the town itself. Rhodolite's royal castle is certainly on a higher elevation (given that one side of the grounds disappear into a cliff, and you can see down into the town from the castle in multiple places) but in general, the entire capital follows the layout of a medieval walled city.

A walled city was exactly that: the royal residence would be at the most defensible end of it, surrounded by the houses, guilds, businesses, and markets of the main town, all enclosed by high walls with gates, battlements, and watchtowers. Rhodolite's royal castle itself has separate walls and gates, but the town is still within accessible distance. Generally there would be only a single gate in and out of the royal castle, but multiple gates for the town so that carriages didn't have to circle back to go the other way once outside. The lands outside the town gates would be farmlands, orchards, and livestock pastures to feed the town's residents. Obsidian, on the other hand...

As seen in the background, Obsidian's capital is separate from the main royal residence (the fortress in the distance) and at a MUCH higher elevation than the surrounding town. Disadvantage of this design: the town is pretty much first in the line of fire if invading forces get deep into the country enough to reach the capital.

The advantage of this design, though? Absolutely nobody can surprise attack the Obsidian fortress because with that elevation they can survey the surrounding land for miles, not to mention all the turrets, parapets, and arrow slots that are actually on the fortress itself.

Now, for the second part of this post, the capital itself:

Like any city, past or present, Obsidian's capital is divided into differing districts– the industrial district to the west, and commercial district to the east. given it's size I would have expected it to be divided into 4 at the minimum, but I'll work with what I get. Chevalier mentions in the chapter that unlike the rural areas of Obsidian, the wealth disparity is far less noticeable in the city, but it's still there, and it directly ties to the two districts of the city. (For my notes on the guilds and businesses of ikepri, please see this post)

THE INDUSTRIAL DISTRICT – WEST

More likely than not, the industrial district going to be the poorer (or at the very least, the less wealthier) side of the city. Some of the guilds and businesses that would be there in the industrial district would be:

blacksmiths (along with farriers and other "rough" metalsmiths)

weapon smiths, armourers, and armories

hide tanneries and dyers

leatherworkers, saddlers, spurriers

lumber processors

stonemasons and carpenters

launderers and bath houses

meat processing butcheries

cheaper (or lesser-quality) apothecaries

brothels

cheaper inns and taverns

Although it is very unlikely that slums still exist (given how developed the capital is under Gilbert's rule) the houses in the western district would be more practical than luxurious. Farmers would live on their own lands outside the city, but the industry workers would have their houses on the west side as well.

THE COMMERCIAL DISTRICT:

By contrast, the commercial district in the east would certainly be on the more middle-class and wealthier side. The establishments are finer, the guilds are larger and more expansive, and the materials are of better quality. I'm thinking the commercial district would things more along the lines of–

silver/goldsmiths and jewelers

clothiers and fur merchants

tailors and seamstresses (poor people mostly made their own clothes unless in uniform)

shoemakers and hatmakers

bankers, moneylenders, tax collectors

merchant imports & exports

more expensive inns, finer rest establishments

doctor guilds and pharmacists

information guilds

If any nobles were staying within the city, they would likely stay at the royal residence, have their own houses in the east side, or they would be staying at one of the better quality inns. The majority of the markets, government administrations, and military quarters will be located near the center of town, where they are accessible to both districts. Any religious buildings will also be near the center, cause the church bells and the town criers need to be heard all across city.

That's kind of.... everything, I guess? I'll probably add more later if I remember anything important. This is mostly for myself, but if anyone wants to use it for reference (or talk to me about worldbuilding brainworms) feel free to do so

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from Yale Environment 360:

Indonesia, the world’s fourth most populous country with the third largest surviving area of tropical forests, has a new strongman president. Environmentalists are concerned. They fear that, after a decade during which the country’s deforestation rates have fallen by almost two-thirds, Prabowo Subianto will unleash a new ecological orgy, cutting, burning, and despoiling some of the world’s greatest rainforests.

The 72-year-old former military man, who first rose to prominence under the country’s late-20th-century dictator President Suharto, was elected by a wide margin in February and will take office in October. He has promised to double GDP growth through expanded mining and industrial development.

Indonesia is already in the midst of a mining boom. It produces half the world’s nickel, a metal vital for the batteries used in electric vehicles. The International Energy Agency says that Indonesia could up its share of total supply, while demand for the metal expected to double by 2040.

Nickel will help other countries reduce their greenhouse gas emissions. But it does the opposite in Indonesia, where most of the metal is mined from beneath rainforests and is refined using energy from coal-burning power stations. On the Indonesian island of Sulawesi, over a third of the forests now lie within nickel mining concession areas, according to a study published this month by Mighty Earth, a global advocacy group which works in the country.

Now Prabowo wants to expand mining and refining further. “By processing our natural resources domestically, I’m optimistic that we would be able to witness double-digit economic growth,” he said shortly before the election.

But at what price for the rainforests? Some environmentalists fear the worst, as mines and refineries proliferate. But there are optimists who argue that the Western investors and manufacturers that Prabowo will need to fulfil his economic promises could leverage more sustainable development. “Nickel mining is a dirty industry,” says Amanda Hurowitz, who runs Mighty Earth’s program for protecting forests from commodity trades, “but with the political will, Indonesia can clean up the nickel supply chain.”

Under departing president Joko Widodo, Indonesia has often been seen as an environmental success story. Jokowi, as the one-time slum-dwelling carpenter is widely known, slowed forest loss dramatically by banning rapacious palm-oil and pulp companies from receiving new licenses for forest clearance. He also looked to restore nature and suppress forest fires by rewetting millions of acres of peat swamps that had been drained for failed agricultural and forestry projects.

[redrage71890]

Seamstress Yuu AU, Pt 2

| Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia |

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

This Yuu was a seamstress back in their world, but they got isekaied in Twisted Wonderland and shit and ended up being an early parent of a fire breathing gluttonous cat.

Currently living in a rundown abandoned dorm with three ghosts living with them, they are definitely in need of some madol for the repairs and just.....living...

So why not utilise these skills!

Sketching and sketching ideas for outfits and accessories that could go with it. Once satisfied with some of the ideas, all she needs to do is to find their models.

And she knows just the people...

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

Savanaclaw would be a challenge, but who can say that doesn't discourage Yuu!

How did they react to the proposition?

✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿✿————✦————✿

ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝐿𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒶 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓇}

God this man DID NOT want any part in the proposition.

He's too tired for this shit and just straight up said 'Go find someone else for your project herbivore.'

But determined to try this challenge, Yuu gave out many exchanges just for Leona to be a model for their outfits.

He continued to lazily decline, until a certain little nephew sweetly proposed the idea because Yuu already dramatically exclaimed her worries and troubles in getting the man to accept.

He fell to peer pressure of his nephew...

Was it hard for Yuu to get his measurements? The man just handed her his measurements while on the brink of falling asleep.

So come the day of trying the draft, she had to accompany Ruggie in getting Leona to come to Ramshackle. Though in trying the draft, Leona stated he would fall asleep in it very easily it was that comfortable. For being a draft.

Final outfit comprised of a black and white patterned collared shirt, a light brown and beige blazer jacket, black pants and black wholecut leather shoes.

Accessories included two thin gold chain necklaces and golden rings.

ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝑅𝓊𝑔𝑔𝒾𝑒 𝐵𝓊𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾}

Lets just say he only accepted because Yuu is offering him some of the profits they get.

Also to mention they would be making a bunch of clothing for the children in his home for charity. Which he greatly appreciates.

The process of getting his measurements went swiftly in fitting in Ruggie's busy schedule in caring for Leona and his school work.

Commenting he's never had anything tailored for him specifically, as because of his background in the slums.

Yuu knows this and says he of course can keep the outfit for other purposes he would like to wear it for, and if he wants to, give it away.

Once their work is done in creating the outfit, its their models to keep.

The draft felt like one of the most comfortable materials Ruggie's felt. Though its best that he doesn't know the amount the materials costs. For the sake of him not feeling guilty...

Final outfit is a white softened material button-up with brown coloured shoulders, beige pants and brown loafers.

Accessories included a black with beige gold mystical patterned cloth that's tied around like a tie and silver rings.

ੈ✩‧₊˚{𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝐻𝑜𝓌𝓁}

This had to take some convincing...

Jack was confused as to why he would be an option, but Yuu defended this by saying 'His body is to DIE FOR for the male population' and 'Why not display your efforts to encourage those in the world to follow along?'

He accepted because he thought it would be okay if Yuu is in charge... nothing else of course! (he states with red up his neck)

This boy has never done anything like this so he, like Deuce is pretty stiff when taking measurements.

When testing the drafts, he kind of moved a little stiff and gently as to not rip Yuu's work, though they ushered him he's fine.

The final outfit is a silk gold button-up with felt like patches around the shoulder areas, black pants and dark brown scout chukka boots.

Not many accessories with Jack but included thin necklaces, thin bracelets and gold rings.

[beardedmrbean]

At least 17 young children were killed in a fire that ripped through their primary school dormitory in central Kenya overnight, with initial reports Friday indicating it was overcrowded in breach of safety standards.

The blaze in Hillside Endarasha Academy in Nyeri county broke out at around midnight, police said, engulfing rooms where more than 150 children were sleeping.

Police said the average age of the victims was around nine years old.

"There are 17 fatalities from this incident and there are also others who were taken to hospital with serious injuries," national police spokesperson Resila Onyango told AFP.

"The bodies recovered at the scene were burnt beyond recognition," she said.

"More bodies are likely to be recovered once (the) scene is fully processed," she added.

Kenya's Citizen TV showed images of what appeared to be the aftermath of the blaze, with blackened corrugated iron roofing that had collapsed in on itself.

The cause of the fire was not yet known.

But Kenya's National Gender and Equality Commission said initial reports indicated the dormitory was "overcrowded, in violation of safety standards" and called for an immediate inquiry. 

President William Ruto, currently in Bejing for a China-Africa summit, expressed his condolences in a post on X. 

"Our thoughts are with the families of the children who have lost their lives in the fire tragedy," he said.

"This is devastating news."

Ruto instructed officials to "thoroughly investigate this horrific incident", and promised that those responsible will be "held to account". 

The school, which caters for about 800 pupils, is located in a semi-rural area around 170 kilometres (100 miles) north of the capital Nairobi.

Around 100 parents were gathered outside the gates of the school, an AFP journalist at the scene reported, anxiously waiting for updates on their children.

The dormitory was sealed off by yellow police tape, with officers stationed at all access points.

'Heartbreaking' 

The Kenyan Red Cross said it was on the ground assisting a multi-agency response team.

In a post on X, it said it was "providing psychosocial support services to the pupils, teachers and affected families".

"Heartbreaking news from Kenya as a school fire has caused devastation. Our thoughts are with all affected," said Jagan Chapagain, secretary general of the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies.

There have been numerous school fires in Kenya and across East Africa.

In 2016, nine students were killed by a fire at a girls' high school in the sprawling slum neighbourhood of Kibera in Nairobi.

In 2001, 67 pupils were killed in an arson attack on their dormitory at the Kyanguli Mixed Secondary School David Mutiso in Kenya's southern Machakos district.

Two pupils were charged with the murder, and the headmaster and deputy of the school were convicted of negligence. 

In 1994, 40 school children were burned alive and 47 injured in a fire that ravaged the Shauritanga Secondary School for Girls in the northern region of Kilimanjaro in Tanzania.

[stephensmithuk]

The Norwood Builder

Arthur Conan Doyle lived in South Norwood from 1891 to 1894 i.e. when he wrote the first two volumes. The area is 7.8 miles from the centre of London i.e. Charing Cross and was in Surrey at the time, although it was in the London SE postal district, being SE25 today. The area is a popular one for commuters, with Norwood Junction having no less than six operational platforms for services towards London Bridge; the Overground's East London Line also calls there. ACD does obfuscate some of the locations though.

Blackheath is located 6.4 miles SE from Charing Cross, on what is now the Greenwich/Lewisham boundary.

President Murillo forms a key part of "Wisteria Lodge", which we have already covered.

The Dutch steamship Friesland is also mentioned in The Lost World where it spots an escaped pterodactyl.

The Victorian era saw a massive boom in housebuilding due to a growing population that needed to live near their industrial workplaces - or in close proximity to a railway station so they could commute to their offices. Some of the housing was better than others, with the stuff for the poor being basically slums and mostly cleared away in later decades.

The Anerley Arms, located next to Anerley station (one stop up the line towards London from Norwood Junction), is still an active pub although no longer does hotel accommodation. I've been there quite a few times after events at the nearby Town Hall for an evening meal before heading home. They have a number of Holmes-related pictures on the walls, but don't make the canon connection explicit.

Anerley station itself is two platforms either side of a four-line railway; the original station buildings have been replaced.

It's rather hard to destroy all traces of a body with a wood-based fire set by an amateur. You need a functioning crematorium and England didn't exactly have many of those free for use.

The fire extinguisher as we know it today was around by this time.

[stingslikeabee]

@divinejudge found the Siren

The first time Melissa heard of that ceremony was back at her job - it was not uncommon for the singer to be approached at the end of her shifts by an appreciative patron who wanted to convey a particular word of praise or gratitude for her talents, as ignored as they could be over the chatter of excited conversation and fine dining.

But that man had a peculiar expression on his face - as if he had been moved to tears or close to it by her singing alone. The same individual mentioned to Melissa that her voice had reminded him of something unique - a sense of belonging that he couldn't describe. The only other time he felt such a connection, he said, had been in Cosmo Canyon. Away from the city lights, the noise and pollution of the biggest towns like Midgar and with darkness breached by moonlight and starlight only.

Cosmo Canyon became some sort of objective for Melissa then. It was not as if she was missing something - in fact, being close to the sea and able to pay the bills with her performances during dinner time at the piano lounges had been more than a dream. As a slum girl like many others from the underplate of Midgar, the woman had been lucky to get out - and to afford a decent life, even if lacking in material comforts and the luxury one would otherwise expect when looking at her. But the songstress presented to the patrons was a persona - the dresses were loaned, the make-up belonged to the hotel and she had nothing of her own except a gifted mezzo-soprano range.

Little by little, the woman saved enough for a trip there - gil for air tickets, modest lodgings and food to visit that part of the planet that had such a different history. No mako reactors in sight, no corporation with their claws around - and it didn't take long for Melissa to realize that even if the ocean was very far away from her, it felt strangely welcoming to be surrounded by the local canyons and crisp air.

The woman did everything she could on that first day - attended a seminar or two, perused the wares of the local artisans and listened to their stories, had some native food and even a quick tour of the sights on a chocobo ride. All that was left on that day was to shower and prepare for the most well-known festival of the place: the Rivers of Light. Melissa had read enough about it and seen pictures of the moments where lanterns were released and something magical happened, but the songstress looked forward to watching it in person.

The brunette took the lift to the lower area with many other guests, then followed directions to get her own lantern prepared before heading towards the bonfire that was not yet fully lit. Local scholars and representatives held torches and a speech or two were expected, so Melissa quietly looked for a good spot to stand while waiting for everything to begin. Step by step, she was taken towards the opposite side where the lift had landed, giving her a perfect angle of the fire that would grow larger at the end of the ceremony...

...As well as of one of the tallest individuals in attendance. At first, the songstress thought it was his height that had drawn her eye given how uniquely he stood out, but after a while she was not so sure. Even discounting the man's size, there was something that kept Melissa's gaze firmly locked onto him, almost to the point of impolite curiosity. With the orange glow of the flickering flames casting his profile in an inviting warmth, the brunette found her breathing catching on the throat and the hands tightening their hold of the lantern just for a bit.

Looking at him - that man - felt strangely familiar. Almost like fate, and she had no idea why.