#fun fact he’s lived in that cell for a decade :D

[poppedbubblgum]

The battle nexus is a rather lonely place…

[prince-toffee]

Five Minutes

A sacrifice fic just to prepare for the inevitable.

(Sorry if there’s any grammar errors, I don’t care, I’m tired, ok I do care, consider this a first draft, I’ll fix it if something’s up.)

The doors locked. They did it. They won. The door ‘s access panel changed it’s green light to a red. The display on the panel read ‘Warning, temperature rising to dangerous levels. Clones present in WatchPoint Bay Q6.’ “Yeah, no shit.” Modulok grumbled to himself, and partially to the panel, as he sat down on the walkway next to his brothers.

“Sooooo, what- what’s happenin’? Is it working?” Vultak asked swallowing fear down his throat as he stuttered on the ‘what’. It did work, the Princesses managed to destabilise the core of the capital warship, The Velvet Glove. The She-Ra, Princess of Power, ploughed her mystical sword into the power core, which resulted in the station’s propulsion systems going offline and set the warship on a collision course with Etheria’s most populated centre, BrightMoon.

“Yeah, it worked alright.” Modulok scratched his two heads with his two left hands, “I just... I calculate that we’ve got about five minutes before either the ship burns up ooooor the all-mighty, all-powerful relic sword explodes and tears our atoms apart and flings them across the ten dimensions... maybe both, probably both.” Modulok shrugged his shoulders with a lifeless chuckle, which didn’t really comfort the perched Vultak on the walkway railing. Then again, what would possibly lighten the mood in that moment.

Hordak and Princess Entrapta managed to angle the station in a manner that it’d just nearly miss the planet, burn up in the atmosphere and use the momentum of the gravity to sling shot it into a surrounding moon. The space station was mentally linked to Horde Prime, everything was operated and controlled with his consciousness. With Prime dead, it put them into a difficult circumstance. Someone had to stay behind to make sure the ship stayed on course, someone mentally compatible with the Horde systems. Hordak was the logical choice, actually he was the only choice. He was the only High General present, meaning only he comprehended and was familiar with the warship systems. Hordak thought it was funny, She-Ra did finally kill him. A destiny fulfilled.

“Five minutes to live. That’s not a lot...” Mosquitor spoke up, giving off a an exhausted sigh. All six clones present in the room fell into tense and anxious silence. Fear and sadness blocked their throats, they weren’t used to talking, with their vocal cords, it was forbidden. Clones were only allowed to communicate telepathically and only communicate about their duties and objectives. Small talk wasn’t in the Horde dictionary. Ironically the only places where clones were able to talk and showcase their individualism was on the frontlines.

“Okay, so five minutes left of life... any last words?” Modulok asked shimming his rear to find a comfortable position to sit on the hard, cold walkway. A grated panelled pathway suspended at the centre of a deep chamber above a transparent force shield at the bottom. Which frames a view of heat and fire outside, melting and charring the metal outer casings of the ship.

“What’s there to talk about?” Despara quirked her brow at her brother’s question.

“Well, we’re clones, we don’t get this lucky. We’ve got five minutes to make up for all the decades of silence.” Modulok articulated.

To guide the warship most effectively Hordak had to observe the trajectory from a vantage point, that was where their paths diverged. Princess Entrapta protested, she held his hands in her own, massaged his knuckles with her thumbs. She raised herself up on her hair to face him eye to eye. She even gave him her signature smile, the one that melted his heart in a second. She had that look of possibility in her glistening crimson eyes, a spark of wonder and wanting that looked into multiple futures, hundreds of possibilities, a look that showed Hordak what he had to fight for, a world where that smile, those eyes and that laugh and that brilliant mind exist. A perfect world. He chose to make it, even if it was without him in it. He decided to do something his brother could never. A final gift to Entrapta, for all the trouble and confusion he caused her.

He gave her a kiss on her gloved hand, befitting for royalty, he gave her the best smile he could, and for the last time, he left her. Princess Entrapta would go on to cry for many days to come, but it was for the best. The greater good.

“Alright. I’m just gonna say it, food, not a fan. Too mushy. Has to go through your entire digestive system, which I didn’t even know existed until a few cycles back, and it has to come out th-” Modulok was cut off by Hordak, who previously was completely silent.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” He didn’t even look at them as he spoke, face down, staring at a small purple crystal in his hand, which he used to fugit with to ease his nerves.

“What are you talking about? We stay together. We’re defects.” Despara states to Hordak almost offended, all of them were through a lot, she felt offended that Hordak thought they’d abandon him now.

“We fought through war. We hold-ass across the universe. And we killed our god! Together!... Well, technically the blonde Valkyrie lady killed Prime, but still it’s the thought that counts.” Vultak shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. Hordak rubbed circles on the purple crystal, looking down on it, his face reflected in it’s cracked surface. L-U-V-D. That’s what was etched on it. A fact. A reminder of her compassion. A wake up call. And he did wake up, from a dream world he believed all his life. A life of lies. From a hazy of toxic green to a reality of flaming red.

“I am your general. I stood at our brother’s side, you were mere soldiers, pawns. I deserve this pain, not you. You could’ve- you should have had normal lives.”

Mosquitor chuckled to himself, “Normal isn’t exactly in our dictionary.” The towering brute countered as he cradled the young hybrid in his arms, keeping Zed near his chest. As if it would make any difference when the fire broke through. “Also we’re not the kind of people the Etherians seem to want to deal with.” The statement made a wicked smile form on Hordak’s face. He enjoyed being in charge, being the one with the carrot on the stick. Having something of his own, something to his own name. They will always remember his name. Never forget. No one will ever forget.

“Then what do you think happens to our brothers? You think the Princesses kept their side of the bargain? You think their all off the ship, that they evacuated them?” Despara asked most likely imagining the worst, a possibility that there were some other poor clones still on board. That they were sacrificing lives that weren’t there own.

To quiet their minds, Hordak tiredly claimed, “No. They kept the promise. They’re honest people.” Hordak added that they had to, they were just like that, it was in their nature. Hordak knew their brothers were fine. BrightMoon had no court to try them, no holding cells and wouldn’t have enough to hold all of them for decades to come. And hopefully if Entrapta didn’t decide to hate him, she’d help them all and embrace them in her warmth. Dryl hadn’t had citizens for a decade or two, he was sure the clones wouldn’t be much of a downgrade. Add some life to the ghost town, so she doesn’t feel alone anymore.

“Yeah, well whatever they’re up to, it can’t be as bad as the predicament we’re in, heh.” Vultak flapped his winged arm around, a sharp gasp of pain escaped him as he moved his right around. No wonder either, it was bent forward, from the fight with Prime, literal minutes ago. It felt so victorious for just a moment, but life has a fun way of turning tables around.

“Plus, the Princesses, totally lame, right?” Modulok rolled his eyes as he attempted to stand up to get over to V and help his brother’s arm. But Vultak raised his left hand in protest, there was no need. It was going to be over soon. Modulok sat back down in defeat, amusement draining from his two faces. What good was a medic that couldn’t fix his fellow soldiers.

It was Mosquitor’s turn to brighten the situation, “Hah, yeah I bet they’re all clawing their ears out by now. Hehe, remember what those colour coded pansies moaned about all the time? Friendship? And rainbows? What a mucha losers, eh? Hehe... heh.”

“I remember.” Hordak stated. Never again. Never forget.

“Yea, losers.” Despara nodded.

“Losers.” Modulok and Vultak said at the same time.

“...Hmmmhehehahah- HA!” Modulok covered his face to hide his ugly laughter, forgetting about the other one expressing the same emotion.

“Mode, what the hell now?” Vultak asked, a smirk creeping up on him.

“Hehehehahahahhhh, ahhhhh man, w-heh-which one was the one that tried to hug Zed, heheheh and- and got burned. Oh lord. Oh Great Darkness. That face was priceless. HhhhhhhhHAHAHA!” The infectious mirth managed to wriggle out a small spasm out of Zed. His shoulders moving up and down, his nasal cavity wrinkling up in that cute way. Of course the young Zed contributed no sound of amusement as he was mute.

Despara shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. They all look the same to me.” The room shook violently, the pipes above rattled and metal panels fell off the walls and fell down through the force field below. Hordak’s realisation dawned on him, that he would be departing the mortal realm. Even thought there was an inferno forming beneath him, just outside that thin force field, even though he was surrounded by his clone brethren, his mind couldn’t help but wonder off to the thought of a certain Scientist Princess. His mind run wild with quite corny and laughable poetry, everything he wished he said to Entrapta. But didn’t.

He didn’t need her to devote her entire life to him. No. That’d be caging her. She deserved to be free, free to bend the universe to her will and bow before her beautiful intellect. He didn’t need her to lay her lips on him, she didn’t need to touch him. All he needed was just to see her smile, at him. Just for her to be with him, because that smile just for a moment saves him, just for a moment she makes him forget the endless pain he endured every day of his life. And every smile felt like an eternity of bliss. And so with just a look that woman could transport him into a perfect world, where he could live an eternity-long life.

But he didn’t say any of that to her. Hordak knew Entrapta wasn’t interested in long speechs, she had a short attention span, she was a woman of actions not words. That’s why before all this all Hordak gave Catra was a short note to give to Entrapta. He had her promise that she’d apologise to Entrapta, for all that she had done. Unfortunately, he made her apologise for the two of them. The note read ‘I’m sorry, and thank you. - Your ever loyal knight, Hordikins. Farewell My Queen.’ He could have gone on how there were no words in any dialect across the universe that could express how she made him feel, or that if she only asked he would have gifted her the universe. The note said everything it made to.

“Kinda sucks, all this. I only came on sentient a few hours ago.” Despara stated playing with her hair. The statement of dry humour pulled Hordak back from his day dream. “But I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet all of you. And... and be myself, even if it was short lived.” Despara finished. The words brought smiles to her fellow brothers, the past few Horde cycles were the craziest experiences of their lives, because they were experiencing life itself for the first time. They decided where their paths led. Especially Despara. She wasn’t always... herself. What was going to become Despara was clone DSP-772,411, whom was the detention guard overseeing Catra’s cell. ‘411 had never met an other lifeform other than clones. Dess was a servant clone. Never stepped outside the perimeter of The Velvet Glove. Her insight on the lay out of the ship came in useful to the defects in their infiltration to kill Prime. ‘411 always felt like they weren’t serving their cause properly, along side their dying brothers on the frontlines. Though not on the battlefield she risked her life every day. Prime had a tendency for violent mood swings. A dinner party for Prime’s guests could be more traumatising and devastative to a clones health than the trenches. Many clone have begged to be sent to the frontlines to escape the unspeakable horrors which occurred within the walls of the warship.

‘411 was immediately drawn to the captive Magicat. Catra spilled her heart, cried and whimpered, talked about an old flame of her’s, about how she hurt people close to her, about how the Princesses were “full of it” as she put it. And ‘411 listened to all of it. And at the end, when Catra’s tears dried up and she quieted down, all ‘411 could ask was, what a ‘she’ was. It must’ve shocked Catra, eyes wide in confusion and mouth drooping low in surprise. Hordak was there when she did, but he could’ve imagined the cat’s reaction, mostly because his first Force-Captains had the same reaction when he first asked that same question in his first years on Etheria. Captain Octavia had quite an interesting evening that day. He made her swear an oath of silence, to never speak of that embarrassing encounter.

Clones had no concept of sex or gender, things just were the way they were. As Prime intended them to be, perfect. The bodies and missions given to them by Prime were unquestionable. And it never was questioned, because none knew what other possibilities were out there. The alien armies of the Horde encountered were all different and unique, but there was no time or reason to study them. It wasn’t an objective. Prime did not care. Her brothers may have not fully understood, what Despara meant when she said she was always “this” deep down, but none argued, none protested against their new sister. She was a clone, a defect, one of them. She was a new experience. One of a kind. And as Vultak put it ever so elegantly, “Cool. I never had a sister before.”

It was ultimately her who let Catra out and helped her escape back to the Alliance. Hopefully she got that kiss she so desperately needed. Hordak met ‘411 only once before being sent off back to the frontlines, his return and the assault on the Velvet Glove, and briefly at that, on his way with a breakfast tray to Queen Glimmer’s guest room.

“Hey, hey, stop with that sappy stuff.” Mosquitor waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. Moe, as his brothers called him, much like most clones including Hordak, wished to at all times seem tough. Poor MSQ-999,332 had it worse than most. He hide his defection for much longer than Hordak. The illness became so bad that eventually he could no longer use his own legs, his waist and legs lost all near all muscle mass. And so ‘332 became paralysed. He was just slowing down his platoon down, so his lower body was amputated. Of course the brother that rescued and brought Moe on board was executed for the crime of ‘Conferring with Inappropriate Machinery’. And Prime personally threw Moe out the airlock back down to the battlefield. ‘332 spent most of his days afterwards, crawling across mudded trenches. Luckily, Moe met on that some battlefield, MUD-111,117, or Modulok.

Nothing, but hatred and vengeance flew through his veins, it did for all of us. Mode managed to construct a life support system, for Moe, a walking hospital bed. Many parallels could’ve been made between it and Hordak’s own First Ones suit, created by Entrapta. Moe’s unit was twice the size of Hordak, it made him tower over even Prime, but the biggest difference was, Hordak’s suit was near indestructible, Moe on the other hand even if he had intimidation on his side the armour was more for life support than anything. Mosquitor faired better from a distance, ‘332 was an amazing snipper. The room shook more, sparks fling from wiring in the wall, the walkway holding them vibrated and shuttered. Moe took hold of Zed in his large arms, readying for the end.

The sight made Hordak thankful that Entrapta took Imp and got him to safety. The Lord of the Horde didn’t think he could’ve handled having to be forced to watch he’s own creation die... his little spy. He was safe, back on Etheria, in a loving home with a loving overseer. He only hoped that she’d teach Imp her ways, and hoped that one day Imp would grow into an intelligent man worthy enough to continue her legacy of brilliance.

Zed was the youngest of all the clones, although technically the creature wasn’t even a clone, but rather a hybrid. A prototype of the splicing initiative. A combination of Prime’s DNA and an unknown gene pool. The kid was an attempt at a creation of super soldiers, but failed. Poor kid always wanted to meet that other half of him. That other person that aided in bringing him into the world. This awful, awful world. Sadly, he never will, but he was the first to follow Hordak into the chamber. The boy did say back on the frontlines, that he’d jump into fire after him. And it was true. And to be more accurate, he didn’t say, he signed. All the defects learned the universal sign language. Zed might’ve been silent, but his voice wasn’t unheard.

He’s fate should have been a better one. He didn’t deserve this, he had a full life in front of him. Hordak never knew what drew Zed to him, why he asked so many questions, why he snuck out at night to see  him in the trenches. When Prime sent Hordak back to the frontlines, after his torturous reconditioning, he lost hope, but when he stepped out, or rather more accurately, when he was thrown out the troop dropship. Face first in a muddy trench dozens of defects thrown down with him. When he looked up from the dirt and filth, a slither of hope ignited in his belly, as a hand extended to him. Wonder in the boy’s eyes. He overheard Hordak’s mention of being trapped on other worlds.

”Hey, V you’re staring into the ceiling buddy. Talk to us.” Modulok snapped his fingers at his winged brother. Vultak didn’t turn to face him, mesmerised by the ceiling falling apart. V’s facial expression showcased a hypnotised look. As a combat aerial unit he always did look into the skies. But it probably had to do something with the impending doom below. ‘Don’t look down.’ Hordak remembered was the advise Vultak gave him when they leaped out onto the Velvet Glove from the dropship they stole, which exploded seconds later in the void of space as it filled with laser fire. VLT-441,441 was a paratrooper in the Horde military, until of course his defect began to show. He was always used to jumping into certain death, fearless in any mission. Vultak didn’t fear anything physical, nothing in the universe made him back down. But now, at the end he looked frightened, he couldn’t look down, do no more leaps of faith, for faith, he lost.

It’s true V feared nothing physical, because he had faith. He was a man of god. A believer. But what happens to a man when your god turns his back on you? Horde Prime knew defection was inevitable for many clones. No machine was perfect, especially no war machine. So Horde Prime infused prophecies and implanted messages into all clone subconscious, so that when defection occurs, all clones are compelled to return to him. Easier than hunting them down, easier to cover up the disgrace of his failures. Easier to hide his mistakes, he couldn’t afford to let those space fairing races above him mapping his progress to know about things like that. Couldn’t afford to let those higher than him know he was capable of mistakes. Perfection was expected of him. Those others above him, he tried to impress them, to have them take him in, show him enlightenment. He, all he wanted to do, was show he was worth their celestial time, he was worth something.

And now he’s nothing. He is now dead. Hordak found that he began to enjoy poetry and it’s irony more and more, in a twisted sort of way. Truly clones.

“Do you... Do you think there’s something out there for us? Up there, where ever?” The questions were deafening, everyone hoped Vultak wouldn’t have gone existential on them. But Vultak was the biggest patriot of them all, even surpassing Hordak’s obsession with their brother. And in turn he was the one most hurt by Prime’s betrayal. He was no god, no grand being, just a liar. Hundreds of thousands murdered... for him, because they believed their big brother. Hundreds of thousands, they murdered, for a lie.

“Do you think any of it was true? Do you think he believed any of it? Or was it ALL a lie?” Hordak answered V’s question in his mind, since never before was it a private place: Lie. “The Perfect World. The Grey Mound? The Hold Peck? The Great Darkness?” V grit his teeth, another wave of pain from his broken arm.

“Worried about being sent to the bad place, V?” Modulok asked, weak smile wearing.

“I’m just wondering. What’s waiting in the beyond for a guy like me. It can’t be anything good... if there even is anything up there.” Modulok decided to stand up and close the distance between him and his distraught brother. He leaned against the railing on which Vultak perched himself.

Mode gently touched V’s shoulder, it made sure V looked at him when he spoke. “I promise you, where ever you wake up on the other side, I’ll be there with you. And I’ll always fix you up after you jump into certain doom. Brother, you have my word.” It was true, the two were inseparable. Threw pure change the two met on the frontlines. While V had his head in the clouds, Mode grounded him, pulled him down to his level. Mode was a realist. He was bad at his bed side manner, he never lied to himself or his patients. He was a field medic, he saw things no one should, endured horrors unimaginable to the innocent. Modulok was the oldest to them, he was through a lot, fighting from world to world longer than any of them in Prime’s name. Over the many decades the spark of pride dulled, Mode found himself lost, fighting across the stars for a cause he no longer believed in.

Mode’s was haunting, even to other defects, whom experienced hardships and injustice. Modulok’s defection was the most dire Hordak ever seen, MUD-111,117 developed a second head, and two left arms. His genome could have been compaired to a computer glitch, untreated it just got worse. It was a miracle that Mode managed to make it to such an old age. Many species across the universe considered age to be a weakness, a disadvantage, but ‘117 always argued that with age came experience, and with experience came knowledge, which in turn led to wisdom. It was Mode who constructed Moe’s suit, led Dess’s surgery, gave V his wings and taught Zed sign language. A true veteran. He had been through it all.

But what Mode never helped Hordak with anything, ‘ 117 was a medic, he was compelled to fix others. But when Hordak first arrived at the fronts of Primus Minor, he isolated himself from everyone else, kept to himself. Hordak treated his own wounds, he worked on his armour alone. When he took the suit off, he was forced to walk on his own, no armour support system. And so he locked himself in an unused compartment of the trenches and over the course of six months, he learned how to walk. Baby steps to an adult man, who never had a childhood. Mode gathered from all of that, that Hordak was a loner. A solo act. Didn’t do well with people.

There came a day where Mode pulled Hordak off to the side and asked him why he worked through all the baggage alone? Why didn’t he ask for aid? Why did he ignore them? Hordak apologised that it seemed like he was avoiding them. And what Hordak said back in response stayed with the medic ‘til the end of his life.

“Mode... If there is good and evil.

And good is better than evil.

God has to be good... Right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, are we good? Are we... like him?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s no such thing as good or evil.

But it’d be nice... to be good.”

“So, anybody got any idea how much time we’ve got left?” Despara asked looking at Modulok. Who just struggled in return, he didn’t exactly have a timer, he simply estimated the time remaining. “So that’s a no? We don’t kno- We can just blow up at any second?... Cool.” Dess combed her hair with her fingers to calm her nerves.

“You really think a timer would settle your nerves?” Moe asked unconvinced.

“I suppose not.” Dess admitted.

“I could’ve been with her.” Hordak spoke up suddenly in the middle of the conversation, honestly he was so quiet Despara forgot he was there, even though he was seated right next to her.

“What’d ya mean?”

“I could’ve saved myself... the First Ones crystal, it’s a server. To help me sync up with her new armour, Entrapta recorded my brain waves on the crystal. My memories, my thoughts, my personality, all of it... I could have given it to her when I last saw her.

But I didn’t.

I lied.

I left her.”

All five siblings turned their heads side to side take turns looking at each other and then back at Hordak. His face unmoved. Looking at the purple crystal. Zed stood up and broke free of Moe’s embrace. The young one stepped up to him. Hordak’s blood red eyes drifted up to the boy’s hands. He signed.

‘Why?’

“...Because it wouldn’t be me. Not me. A clone of me.”

The clones fell silent. Head bowing down. No more needed to be said. Every aspect of their lives had been thrown into question, into uncertainty. When the assault on The Velvet Glove happened, Hordak was leading the charge. Prime captured him and tortured him, he hurt him in front of Entrapta. He fell to his knees and crawled back to Prime, like he always did. But this time it was different, he stood up, he walked to him. Like a man, not a dog. Prime insulted and demeaned him. Prime claimed that Hordak wasn’t wasn’t a person. Clones were nothing, mere shadows of his greatness. The clones were him, just dirtier, unclean. A lesser version of what he was.

This was their stance against that. Showing that their lives meant something. That they were worth something. They were worth the world, for that was what they were saving. The scale balanced out.

The force field beneath them gave off a thunderous sound, a final warning. The bay shook one more time, the artificial gravity became disabled and the room began to tilt and shift. The metal walls crumbled like paper. The walkway began to swing and crack. Mode took V’s unbroken hand into his own. Moe embraced Zed in his arms one last time. Dess wrapped her arm around Hordak’s shoulder, and he inturn pressed his head against hers.

Modulok gave his last words in the form of a question, “...Do... Do you think... Could’ve we done something, could’ve we ended up with a happy ending, all of us? Could’ve we been good? Would it have make any difference?”

Hordak spent his last moments thinking, he didn’t realise he was thinking out loud, “Good? I think there’s no such thing as good?...

But it was nice...”

What ever this was. What it meant. What it was worth.

The force field imploded, gave in. The fire broke through. The Velvet Glove burned up in the atmosphere. And the clones were no more. And on that day all of Etheria cheered, and celebrated. For the evil was vanquished.

Ding-dong! The witches are dead.

[recentanimenews]

The 42 Greatest Anime Moments of Monkey D. Luffy

  May 5 is the birthday of One Piece's main character Monkey D. Luffy, and over the past couple of decades of his existence, he's given us some moments that will stay in our minds forever. And so I've decided to chronicle 42 of his best ones, antics that will hopefully remind you how much you love the free-spirited, determined, ridiculous Birthday Best Boy. One note, though — while this list does contain some of those sweet, sweet fight scenes, I've already written a list that ranked his 20 greatest knockouts against bad guys. So, in order to not repeat that list entirely, I've tried to mix it up a little bit. 

  1. Luffy Wakes Up From A Great Nap

I can't think of a better anime debut for Monkey D. Luffy than "wakes up in the barrel that he miraculously survived a whirlpool in and immediately knocks out some pirates by accident." It's everything fun about the dude rolled into one.

2. Luffy Gets Coby To Hit Him

    One thing that doesn't get mentioned enough about Luffy is his haphazard, yet skillful ingenuity. He knows that Koby will never get to join the Marines if he's associated with pirates, so Luffy, his one brain cell working overtime, gets Koby to punch him in order to prove that they're not friends because would friends brawl on the floor of a restaurant? 

3. Luffy Gets The Straw Hat

A moment from the first chapter of the manga that was delayed until Episode 4 of the anime, Luffy getting the straw hat from Shanks is iconic. It sets in motion his entire journey and creates a symbol that represents freedom, adventure, and destiny.

4. Luffy Gives Nami The Straw Hat

  Luffy giving Nami his straw hat is more than just a simple, comforting gesture. It's Luffy telling Nami that if she wants, she'll be a Straw Hat now and for the rest of her life. Nami may have problems, but she'll never have to deal with them alone ever again.

5. Luffy Gets His First Bounty

    By gaining a bounty when he takes down Arlong, Luffy is introduced to the wider world of pirating, the World Government, and eventually the Grand Line. Though Buggy's reveal that he knew Shanks and Mihawk's appearance hinted at a wider world, this is Luffy's first real step into it.

  6. Luffy Smiles At Death

    Luffy obviously doesn't want to die. But as he smiles at the crowd and his crew while Buggy brings a sword down onto his neck, he grins. Because he didn't die in vain. He never became Pirate King and he never found the One Piece, but he did live his life exactly the way that he wanted to. And that's more important than any title or treasure. I'm glad he didn't die, though. They never would've found the Grand Line if Zoro had ascended to the role of Captain. They'd probably still be arguing in the Loguetown harbor.

7. Luffy Holds Up Hiriluk's Flag

   Wapol wanted to destroy Hiriluk's flag and thus eliminate his legacy. But Luffy — smoking due to being recently shot by a cannon and holding up the flag — proved that's not something you can just do. As long as someone is there to fight for it, a flag is forever.

  8. Luffy Disagrees With Vivi

   Vivi, frustrated, enraged, and embarrassed about the treatment of her country, was more than ready to sacrifice herself for it ... and only herself. But Luffy wasn't hearing it. If she was going down, they were all going down. It wasn't just Vivi's fight anymore. The Straw Hats had reached Ride or Die status.

  9. Luffy Beats Crocodile

  I did a list of Luffy's best knockouts so I'm not gonna list every major punch here. However, the ones that are especially meaningful deserve recognition. And this one, where, after two defeats, Luffy battered Crocodile up through the streets of Alubarna, is inarguably one of the most memorable. It's a triumph that's a long time coming, equal parts brutal and satisfying.

  10. Luffy Lets Himself Get Beat Up And Meets Blackbeard

  Mirroring Shanks' restraint when he let himself get harassed by the Mountain Bandits, here we see Luffy decide not to fight Bellamy and instead he listens to Bellamy's foolish proclamations about why dreams suck and why you shouldn't have them and why Mylo Xyloto is the best Coldplay album, probably. However, even if he didn't need the pick-me-up, Blackbeard meets him outside to reaffirm that dreams never die. It would be a super nice remark ... if anyone but Blackbeard was saying it.

  11. Luffy Is Immune To Enel

  Until this point, Enel is borderline unstoppable, able to strike down anyone in his path and — with the help of his "mantra" —  barely takes any damage in the process. And it's made him pretty cocky. But to see Enel's face distort in cartoonish disbelief when he realizes that Luffy is a Rubber Type Pokemon and that he's impervious to Electric Types is so joyously satisfying.

  12. Luffy Decides To Get Rid Of The Going Merry

    With the Going Merry slowly becoming unusable and actually becoming a handicap to the crew, Luffy figures that it's time to find a new ship. It's a sad moment, but you can't help but see Luffy's side. A good pirate crew needs a good pirate ship. And if the Going Merry suddenly sinks, Luffy is dead. Like very, very dead.

  13. Luffy Faces Usopp

  Usopp relates to the Going Merry, fearing that its "weakness" and "inadequacy" represents his own. And so when Luffy decides to get rid of the ship, Usopp lashes out, causing Luffy to have to "put down" Usopp. It's a difficult decision, but it shows that Luffy isn't all laughs and "I'm gonna be King of the Pirates!" declarations.

14. Luffy Does Not Recognize Sogeking

    And then, after the most heartfelt showdown in the series, Luffy doesn't even recognize Usopp's Sogeking disguise, despite the fact that he has most of Usopp's traits, most of Usopp's weapons, and showed up only a little while after Usopp left. Oh, Luffy. Never stop being you.

  15. Luffy Goes Second Gear

  Power-ups are pretty common in anime. But Luffy saying that he needs to take his skills up another level so that he won't lose his friends still feels pretty special. And then the music kicks in and Luffy beats Blueno to a pulp and it's one of the most hype scenes in the entire series.

  16. Luffy Declares War On The World

   He'll always have a target on his back, he'll never be able to rest easy again, and the World Government will pursue him as long as he draws breath. Luffy knows this, but when the time comes to save Robin from CP9 in Enies Lobby, he doesn't hesitate to take on the whole world. It's just what friends do.

  17. Luffy Refuses To Fall

  When Luffy and Lucci fight, it isn't a quick contest. They go to absolute war on one another. And when Lucci thinks he's won, having left Luffy spitting up blood on the floor, we see that ... no. Luffy will not leave his feet. He has too much pride, too much grit, and too much determination. Defeat is not an option here. He will stop fighting to retrieve Robin when he's dead.

  18. Luffy Is Reunited With Garp

  For a long time, Luffy's actual flesh and blood family was a mystery. Shanks is kind of a cool uncle and Ace is someone that Luffy considers his brother, but where did Luffy, ya know, come from? As it turns out, his grandpa is the cannonball-throwing Marine Vice Admiral Garp, who is not only just as goofy as Luffy, but also really, really, really strong for being 76. What's his secret? Low carbs? Eiichiro Oda, please let me know.

  19. Luffy Punches The Celestial Dragon

  Luffy can't stand bullies or anyone that relishes the misery of others. So when a Celestial Dragon shoots Hatchan in the auctioneering house, Luffy walks right up to him and turns his face into a catcher's mitt.

  20. Luffy Loses His Crew

   Luffy's darkest hour (so far) comes when, in a fight with Kuma, Kizaru and the Pacifistas, his whole crew eventually gets wiped out and spread across the world. All the while, Luffy is powerless to stop it — his Gum Gum skills no match for Kuma's abilities. It's a truly pitiable thing to see Luffy beat his fists on the ground in futility, something entirely unlike any scene in the series before.

  21. Luffy Covers Sandersonia

   Back in Little Garden, Luffy agreed it wasn't necessary to actually have a reason for the fight between the giants. They were having an honorable contest between warriors. That was enough. Later when Sandersonia's scars were about to be revealed after a battle, Luffy covered them up. He had no interest in killing them or exposing their secrets. That is not what the battle was for. The contest was simply one that he wanted to win so he'd eventually get back to his crew.

  22. Luffy Decides To Save His Brother Before Reuniting With His Crew

   When Luffy learns that Ace is to be put to death, he must make a choice: Get the gang back together or dive into the depths of Impel Down and try to rescue his brother. He ends up choosing the latter, which shows a great deal of trust and respect for his crewmates. He knows they're strong enough to be OK without him for now.

23. Luffy Embraces Mr. 2

    This is just plain wholesome. Luffy's love for his friends is might be the best thing about him.

24.Luffy Falls From The Sky

    Luffy's story isn't just about his quest to find the One Piece, but the formation of a legend. And when Luffy and the other Impel Down escapees plummet from the sky into the Marineford war, you can practically see that legend being written.

  25. Luffy Faces The Admirals

  Yes, Luffy's attempts to kick a frozen log at them goes nowhere. And yes, Luffy is almost immediately knocked down by Kizaru when he tries to rush past him. But the guts in that kid! Facing down three of the most powerful men in the One Piece universe and demanding they give Ace back to him. That is moxie, my dudes.

  26. Luffy Goes Comatose

  Ace is dead. The mission has failed. A brother is lost. And all Luffy can do is go numb and lifeless. He has no words or actions to explain or react. A chunk of his soul has been ripped away.

  27. Luffy Realizes He Still Has His Friends

    Yes, his attempt to save Ace was a bust. But in the most hopeless of times, Jimbei asks him what he still has. And Luffy remembers he still has his friends — friends he has been there for in the past and who will most certainly be there for him later. They are still there. And because they are still there, Luffy's existence has worth.

  28. Luffy Gets An Upgrade

  Reuniting with his crew in Sabaody, it doesn't take too long for Luffy to find a way to show off the results of two years of training. He's been doing some grinding, so his skill tree has some new branches. He's unlocked some new abilities, and he's reached his evolved form. When a Pacifista comes at the Monster Trio (Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji,) they beat the bear out of it.

29. Luffy Decides To Make Fish-Man Island His Territory

    For the most part, Luffy doesn't really care about the dominance sought by other powerful characters. But after he's gotten to know the citizens of Fish-Man Island and he sees the terror caused by Big Mom, he tells her straight-up he's gonna defeat her and take Fish-Man Island under his protection. It's the closest that Luffy has ever gotten to being a character in Goodfellas.

  30. Luffy Allies With Law

  And then, shortly after talking trash to Big Mom, Luffy teams up with Trafalgar Law in a plot to overthrow Kaido, another Emperor of the Sea. It's a real leap forward for Luffy. One day, you're just a kid from East Blue punching everyone that seems mean. The next, you're taking an active role in changing the power structure of the entire world. That's just how it is sometimes, though. As Logic once said, "Who can relate?"

  31. Luffy Has Been "Picking Fights All Along"

    Luffy knows he doesn't just tumble from one situation to another. He isn't just a poor guy caught up in the gambits of powerful evil forces. No, Luffy has definitely chosen to live a life where he will interfere with your best-laid plans if he feels inclined to. And if that includes a lot of fighting, well, so be it.

  32. Luffy Reunites With Sabo

  It's been pretty much non-stop action since the beginning of the Post Time Skip era, and that hasn't really allowed for a ton of emotional moments for Luffy. But when he reunites with Sabo in the coliseum and his scream comes out as a mix of happiness, confusion, and surprise, he finally gets one. Cry it out, buddy. We love ya.

  33. Luffy And His Allies Head For Doflamingo

  From orchestrating a breakout in Impel Down to creating a charge toward Doflamingo with all the allies he met in the tournament to win the Flame-Flame Fruit, Luffy has slowly gone from being the captain of a small crew on a ship with an animal head on the front to being the full-on leader of a Pirate Alliance. Luffy 2020 is what I say.

  34. Luffy Goes Fourth Gear

  Years after the reveal of Second and Third Gear, we get Fourth Gear, a power-up that even more freakishly transforms Luffy's body. It's not graceful, nor is it particularly beautiful to behold, but it gets the job done.

  35. Luffy Beats Doflamingo

  Doflamingo — a man that's been a thorn in the side of nearly everyone in the world for about 15 years of anime history — finally gets taken down. And still, it's only a stepping stone to Wano. Somehow, Eiichiro Oda creates these moments that seem like the biggest events in history, and yet, they're only just the beginning.

  36. Luffy Refuses To Fight Sanji

  Luffy knows Sanji is conflicted and not really a bad guy. And he's also aware of the fact that he'll be creating an even bigger issue if he fights back against his chef. So he just takes the kicks, hoping Sanji sees there's another way out of this. Sadly, it'll be a few episodes before he realizes that.

  37. Luffy Waits For Sanji — And Then Punches — Sanji

    Sanji finding Luffy because his captain's stomach is grumbling super loud is so cartoonish and lovely — because what is Sanji's role if not to feed his captain? Of course, Luffy enjoys Sanji's rain-soaked cookin' and then he punches Sanji for still being a twerp that won't admit what he really feels.

38. Luffy Clashes With Big Mom

    Luffy stood beside Whitebeard, but this is his first real showdown with a Yonko. And it doesn't go very well. Big Mom is easily able to block him, which shows that, while Luffy has come a long way, he's still got a bit farther to go.

  39. Luffy Places The Hat On Katakuri

  Much like the previous covering of Sandersonia's shame, Luffy covers Katakuri's mouth with his hat after their duel. The two combatants fought and earned each other's respect. And so Luffy leaves Katakuri with his pride.

  40. Luffy Knows He's Arrived In Wano Due To The Swords

    That giant baboon is using a sword? Obviously this must be Wano, the land of samurai. That's Luffy logic at its most pure. 

  41. Luffy Promises Tama She Will Not Be Hungry Again

  For the most part, heading to Wano seemed like a pretty impersonal act. The only reason he thought about going there in the first place was because Law seemed pretty confident it was a solid idea. But then he meets Tama and learns that she — along with most of the country — is starving. So his journey to take down Kaido gets some personal stakes. He's now shouldering the hopes of an entire group of people.

  42. Luffy Is Beaten By Kaido

  OK, so Round 1 didn't go so well. Luffy pummeled Kaido with everything he had and Kaido one-shotted him with a melee weapon attack. Luffy has to rethink his strategy and expand his move-set and maybe, with some luck, Round 2 will be a tad more even. I can't wait to see what Luffy moments we have in store when One Piece returns!

  What is your favorite Luffy moment? Do any on this list stand out to you? Let me know in the comments!

      Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

  By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[wiz-witch]

DuckTales 2k17 3x03: Double O Duck In You Only Crash Twice

"The Lost Harp of Mervana!" So fun fact: all I know about James Bond is from the Mythbusters episode, that Jimmy Neutron special, and Goldmember. And I haven’t seen either of those in over a decade. So let’s see how many references fly over my head.

Also this is my second viewing but I’m going to try to keep my commentary as if this is my first

“Dew-ble O Duck” Dewey, sweetie, I will pay you to stop

Wait her name is Red Feather? Boo

Obviously evil guy is obviously evil

“What are you doing?” Being a theater kid with middle child syndrome

...Wait, Ben can sing??

Okay, that was impressive

Yay foreshadowing

Dewey: “Oh fuck, he’s messing up, this was a bad plan”

Daw, Dewey calls him LP

Also I cannot get over the fact the glasses they were wearing in the released screenshots were VR glasses

Hey, it’s the Phantom Blot! I can’t wait until you do something cool this season

My favorite House of Mouse shorts were the ones with him (and one where Von Drake tried to take Mickey’s heart. Yup, the show had more influence on Epic Mickey than causing the company to get Oswald back)

Aw, he sad :(

“Am I a joke to you, lad?”

“Uncle McDee”?? :D :D :D

Webby is a bro, and Scrooge is everyone’s uncle

Ball pits are terrifying, and this just proves it

I love how Heron’s welding mask is built to compensate for her mask. It makes her look like a plague doctor

Yes, intruders in the very public Chuck E Cheese knock off. Geeze, got Magica working there, got Phantom Blot as the mascot, got a FOWL lair underneath... Frank? Why is there so much evil in the Chuck E Chee--oh, wait, never mind

Are we ever going to get the full intro with Della?

Yeah, his kids come here all the time, why are you surprised at this?

He’s asking the important questions

She didn’t want to answer because she made it

I love Whack a Mole. I had a home version even

That is such a mood. I hate being in public.

...Ouch. Those things are heavy

...That’s all.

That legitimately looked like something out of the Carmen Sandiego choose your own adventure

Wait, how did they even know the passcode in the first place? It’s not like they were given a briefing or anything

...what.

Dewey has the brain cell at the table

jlkajlkdajlkdsj SOMEONE PLEASE GET ME A REACTION GIF OF DEWEY SILENTLY GOING ‘WHAT?’ WHILE WATCHING THIS DISASTER

I love the cutting between the game and reality. I also love how Steelbeak felt the need to put on the glasses to beat them up

Webby, that is not how you hold a skee ball

Himbo versus... Is there a term for a himbo who’s an ass? Is it just “attractive idiot”?

...Did I just imply that Steelbeak is attractive? Ew

Webby was right, it is a trap!

Okay, as someone who’s been hit in the face a lot and wears glasses, those glasses should’ve broken from that

Oh my gods...

Aw, sad baby

Ooh, are these the guys I have beat up Huey in my FOWL fics?

Did Steelbeak spend too much time with Quackerjack or something?

...Okay, part of me is actually highly disturbed at the fact Steelbeak changed their clothes while they were unconscious

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chip and Dale! Rescue Rangers...

they play the f*cking theme song...

Daw, he helped them, and they helped in return

Oh snap

Webby is DoneTM

“This department has worked 322 days without an accident” I feel like that’s a facility record. Would be at my work

.......what.

I love how he didn’t know what the device did and knew it was a game and still sacrificed himself for Dewey. That’s adorable

Did you guys really get multiple lives in that game? Because it seemed kinda insta-lose

Also, are the glasses currently off or are they still seeing things differently than we are?

Oh, I think this is a direct Bond reference--it looks like something from Jet Fusion

Why is he British?

...Please give us our himbo back. Please. I will pay money for that.

Aw, he calls him Dewford now. I do not like this, please make it stop.

...was that English?

Me either

“Oh heavens, you don’t want them to think you don’t know what you’re doing” My constant monologue at work

that was epic

Why is he still wearing the glasses?

“They’re back?” Okay, those two words bring a lot of questions I want answers to

Huh. Guess I wrote the wrong triplet getting kidnapped by FOWL

#priorities

Scrooge... Sweetie...

I love how Webby keeps wanting to kill Funzos employees... Oh, what if all of them secretly are part of FOWL?

...Except Magica. Maybe she was hired so they could see if she was FOWL material

Oh, I wanna break that innocence so much...

....... [slams head on desk]

Okay, how could Launchpad hear Dewey clear as day, but Dewey can’t hear anything Launchpad is saying?

Aw, that fear on Dewey’s face when Launchpad crashed... Oh, what if unconsciously Dewey knows this is real now but hasn’t quite consciously processed that?

He’s Launchpad McQuack, that’s how.

Dewey is Done with this guy and is showing signs of being like his brother

Well that’s unnecessarily badass

How can you be so DoneTM when being tied up like that. Also why is he tied up up there

Boo, bad pun

No, “Me” was correct there

I’m sorry, is that just going to become their thing? Just casually coming into a scene to help rescue the Ducks and then leaving?

...Oh you are not doing this.

We were robbed of a hug

Okay, the subtitles say this is Dewey singing, but it doesn’t quite sound like his voice while his song earlier did. WTF

"Stop the evil conspiracy out to get us.” Hey, Launchpad, before you do this, PLEASE TELL HIM ABOUT FOWL SO SOMEONE KNOWS

Launchpad has ADHD and RSD

That was adorable. Dewey is a good kid. Reminds me of half my cousins, but a good kid

...Wait, wasn’t that shot in the original season 3 promo?

Dewey, why did you jump, that was really unnecessary

Well, there’s that hug I wanted

...what.

Because of a joke from a friend, I’m mentally retconning that line into “Huey’s going to freak when I tell him that I--we beat the game.”

Seriously, I love how it took him not being in an episode to not have a mild breakdown

I hate how realistic that is

Let’s see, one ball got him 2 tickets, and one quarter gave him 5 balls...so one quarter equals 10 tickets, which means a dollar equals 40 tickets... That comes out to 75 grand. Scrooge, wtf

I love how Dewey clearly is trying not to crack up

I’m sorry. I cannot get over the subtitles calling him “Suave-Pad”. Who on the crew came up with that.

Ooh, are they going to learn?

...I hate everything.

Scrooge’s reaction is mine

Well, that explains a lot

Okay, if she specializes in rays but Bradford doesn’t want more rays... Imagine them looking for fresh brain...

Shut up, I like hurting Huey, let me do so in peace until canon gives me the conspiracy theorist Huey hunting down FOWL I was promised

...Okay, that is the most terrifying thing this episode.

Me picking up pretty much anything in the house for the first four years of my sister’s life

So what’s next week? ["The Lost Harp of Mervana!"] ...ARNY MAERMADIDS NEAZXT WEK!

[kanene-yaaay]

'How was I suppose to know?! You were my first case!’

Author’s note: 

So, once upon a time there was a @yussuna, who gives the idea of a fanfic/drawing challengue to a crazy writer called Kanene.

Since them thing went down a downhill. 

And then this story born! Yaaaaaaaaay!!!

Okay xDD. But, seriously, this is one of the works I am most proud for, and I really, really would appreciate if you give this a shot. It is very crazy and random, I have to admit, but it has a golden heart.

XDDD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This is a totally original story! Who would knew I still knowing how to write it! :D

* This is a SFW oneshot. ^w^)b

* I need to warning for blood (kind of?), cutting and use of electricity as weapon. Nothing very detailed, though.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! Please give me your opinion! \(-w-)/

* Something around 4.000 words.

* Portuguese version (Brazilian’s one) coming soon (Provavelmente vai ser só de noite pq eu preciso sair agora, enton, desculpaa!)! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Have a incredible week! Eat cucumbers and hug an a guardian angel!

                               [ ~*~]

“You need to stop staring me while I sleep, it’s terrifying.”

“Correction: Guard. And request denied. My system has been updated to not open a slightest infinitesimal loophole possible for you to escape.”

“Urg. You guys, ‘perfect’ guards, are SO exaggerated. - The freckled started to walk in slow steps to the kitchen, tossing his shirt to the couch, being followed by the dark as chocolate skinned, who frowned his face to the neglect with the garment lying faint in the furniture, his  impeccable posture almost undoing in disbelief as heard the other’s words.

“Pardon me, exaggerated?!”

Like a movie, they both saw the memories going by as a bittersweet trailer in their own minds: The guard enjoying the calm morning silence and the sweet aroma from the first batch of delicacies being deliciously baked in the nearest bakery in the exact sun rise, receiving greetings even from the singing birds. He felt absolutely charged. Calmly opened his eyes, submerging himself in his desire to hum as he blinked a few times, his glare being totally captured for a light movement on the window. His pupils made soft metallic sound as they  readjusted to better focus in the scene before him.

Which, for some reason, happened to be the fugitive blatantly falling out from the same, without a single hint of balance or sense of self-preservation as he lifted from the ground and started to fastly run through the yard which surrounded the house, the dolphin patterned pajamas shining with the dirt spots acquired from the garden. 

Mathias almost felt moved, even impressed, by the boldness, a feeling that deprived him from his actions for a brief pieces of moments.

Before leaving in a methodical and unbridled career after him.

“I was just practicing my morning run. I need to keep me alive until at least the next decade, preferably.”

“ You clearly was running away.”

“You have no evidence, and I just speak in presence of my lawyer.”  Opened his cupboard (his back staring the dark skinned and being a loyal confident for the police officer, who imitated him with gaudy gestures and grimaces) and placed the pan with water on the oven, his eyes meeting the other’s, who already was in his perfect position with erect back and impassive face, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as a slightly signal of embarrassment.  “Do you drink pure coffee or with milk?”

“Your devil’s advocate? And I don’t drink coffee, sir.”

“Mathias.” Completed the sentence that had already received its final point with a distracted tune, going towards the blender and filling it with water. Gave an ironic with a drop of amargure, crackle. “I’m not the devil. One of the demons, maybe. From the lowest class. The feathers from a fallen angel, to be honest.”

“ Pardon me?”

“You already live with me. - Guard. - Yeah, yeah. Guard, live, whatever. The thing is, we have been together for five months and you calling me ‘sir’ make me feel old.”  

“It’s not in my protocols to call you by your name, sir.”

“ -all powerful, Mathias.” Once again completed the finished sentence.

The guard narrowed his eyes to the grin from the other.

“I’ll keep completing all and any phrase of yours, then.” He poured the milk powder into the water, taking a full spoon just to put it in his mouth. “Chocolate milk, then?”

“I don’t have need to eat, si-” His sentence was interrupted when he noticed the sparkle in the shirtless’ look. “Matheus.”

“Mathias.”

“That was what I said, Matheus.”

This time was his round of receiving the annoyed look, sustaining its with a smile that illuminated the room and almost had his own chorus of heavens by the angelical and (false) innocent tune which he possessed.

“You’re pronouncing it wrong.” Had to blink, the smile was too shiny, even to his standards. He licked his teeth, his lips curling as he didn't break the gaze which he expected to be intimidating. “And you know it.”

“I am an, fluent in more than ten languages, android, sir Matheus. I can assure you that I know how to pronounce a name.”

Silence.

Matheu- Mathias let out a defeated sigh, shaking his head.

“You still haven't answered my question.” Started to mix the powdered coffee in the boiled water, the smell immediately spreading throughout the kitchen and the Perfect Police Officer code 128√e980 controlled his impulse to close his eyes to appreciate it deeply. “And don’t try to sell me this bullshit of ‘I’m an android and I don’t eat and nhenhenhe.’ I’ve already seen you stealing my gingerbreads in the middle of the dawn.” Still mixing the coffee as his had turned 270º degreedes to stare the the android who keep him under surveillance. - So? Chocolate Milk? Tea? Coffee?

The other thanked for his shade of skin that made difficult the perception of how much heated his facial system was; opened his mouth some centímeters, being almost possible to see the synapse powdery working in order to seek an answer on the same level of the half truth and half sincerity  teasing tune.

He didn’t find it.

“Chocolate milk.” Quiet murmur, deviated his gaze from the face which turned again to the activity being made, calmly humming.

It took some minutes drowned in silence while breakfast was being served. The police officer decided to help set the table, partly for a fact question of moral and empathy and the other part, more true, being the one which preferred ignore the dance steps, stuffed for the music that now freely flied from his lips, that Mathias risked, almost dropping plenty of times all the drinks on the floor for trusting on an equilibrium which he did not have when it came to floating.

Humans are so weird.

“Uhh. We’re out if breads… You will have to buy more.”

The law enforcement officer blinked once, twice and more three times in disbelief before facing the other. 

“Excuse me? Whose house is it?”

“Mine, but I can’t go out, remember? I’m in home prison.” Took a big sip of the not strained coffee.

“Misconception. You can move up to 100 meters from your home in order to perform activities to fulfill basic needs, as supermarketing.” 

“Oh, now I see. Do you mean that when I wanted to do my morning run to keep myself healthy and alive this rule never was mentioned, but now when it affects you, suddenly I can have rights and go roaming around?”

“Misconception. You are modificating my words in order to make me accomplish what you want.”

“Rude.”

“The bakery is next to your house.”

Mathias loudly took another sip of coffee, launching to the lively dark eyes an incisive condemnatory look. Few hair strands falling down his face.

“I am not paid for that.” The bright smile one go up, without any smile on lips, which twitched in an annoyed pout, and went grumbling to the prisoner's room to get his wallet, because he didn’t really had a payment.

“Thank you, dear. ~”

Per protocols androids didn’t swore, cursed and neither pronounce threats to any human, in life or not, regardless ofthe situation.

But that didn’t mean that they didn’t thought about it.

[~*~]

Mathias began to receive calls from the gang. He didn’t really gave much details about them, however he always researched a shade of pale skin more and more stronger with each of them. Sometimes the shade took too long to leave. All the numbers were from prepaid cell phones and their tracking always led to a dead end, no surprises from the biggest gang of the perimeter. They got people highly trained and infiltrated in any place. His guard work slowly and yet suddenly, metamorphosed in a protection work, which for some reason managed to calm both.

The robot who never had a name inhaled, observing his own breath being dissipated by the thick and cold drops, which plummeted from the sky in the shape of a majestic storm. It was night. A night without moon and with the only illumination stemming from light poles, automobiles headlights and his night vision. He had administered a dose of sleeping pill in Mathias’ juice, since the sleepless nights started to research a concern and definitely not healthy number. He already had studied each one of the contradictions from the product so as the long hair’s medical record, until know the right amount to use and be sure that it wouldn’t hurt him.

For this he found himself comfortable to enjoy at least for a second the sensation of freedom which he felt for being in the middle of this phenomenon. Closed his eyes and swirled in the same spot a few times, feeling with pleasure the freezing sensation took over his systems together with the wet grass aroma. The world was silent, as if even the nature shut up for a instante to appreciate its beauty.

It was… contagious, it was liberating. In the middle of the storm no one guard him, no protocols holded him, nobody weirdly stared him when he used the verb ‘feel’ and didn’t ignored him as soon they no longer needed his services.

There he was, was…

“NO!!!”

No?

Opened his eyes and three bangs, as little explosions one after another, became present. Few milliseconds after he felt himself fell, a second scream spreading through the air, cutting the calm and fullness he had been in.

Gasping. He was gasping. Weird feeling. Chest tightness. His pupils quickly focused in the form before him.

It had the green and blue colors mixed in small stripes through all his shape. It was bright. Bright enough at the point to completeky extinguish the darkness in the garden at night without satellites or stars. It was-

“MATHIAS??!”

Yes, with his long strands hair bouncing around his face, showing little fins which he had in place of ears; his pajamas hitting and vibrating strongly over his, literally, gleaming skin, whose shine seemed to spread even more with the rain that covered, yet no longer hit, them. He floated, as he always did when was distracted, however this time he seemed to have an established goal, his hand extended in an unknown energy field, apparently of protection, since in it contained two bullet projectiles, while his other hands was pressed in his shoulder which was-

“Shot! You’ve been hit!” Automatically the android connected himself in his Data Network, taking all the possibles and necessaries for the situation. His body impulsed itself, getting up and moving closer to the other, taking off his shirt and tearing it up to make a tourniquet. His gestures were quick and precise, even though his legs shook for a moment when heard the pain interjection, said in the middle of gritted teeths, from his partner. “How?” His glare was suddenly drawn to the three beings who were in attack positions, guns in hand and shining in their chests…

“Distinctives. They got hell of agents infiltrated in the police.”  He wanted to tell that his had a surprised tune, or even that he successfully attempted to hide the astonishment in his voice, but that would be a lie. Actually, this was one of his first theories he had when was arrested and, mainly, leaded to home prision. It was for this reason which in the first month he had been so wary and ignorant with the police android.

And now he got a shot for him. He, who would say?

He was sweating, damn, guns of that level din’t even caused a big amount of damage, however they hurted as if the bullet shards was tap dancing and perforating all of his nerves.

“Can’t you attack them?”

“What?!” His eyes widened, for a instant the pain on his shoulder being a little more light that the unbelieving. “I… Look, this shield is the maximum that I can do at the moment!” Talking hurt. Kneeded down and looked away, suddenly ashamed for his actual condition. “My energy is not physiologically capable to convert itself in any offensive device. Sorry, but you’re going to have to deal with the rest.”

The android’s hands shook, even though his expression remained stoic when nodded. He stared the three forms, who continued shooting bullet after bullet in synchrony. Flexed his arm and relaxed skillfully, as if he was stretching a whip, nevertheless, what actually came of his palm was copper wires, which quickly began to sizzle and snap as electric charge ran all his length. He approached to the shield protecting them, yet couldn’t see the police officers’ face.

Maybe it was for the best.

ERROR. ERROR. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED. ERROR. ERROR. RETREAD IMMEDIATELY, REPEAT: RETREAD IMMEDIATELY. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED.

He blinked, and then knew about all the effect of electricity on a human being. He knew about the electric chairs, the tortures from Medieval Era World War and nowadays, knew about the electroconvulsive therapies and the perfect voltage to incapacitate an adult human of avarage height and weight.

ERROR. ERROR. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED. ERROR. ERROR. RETREAD IMMEDIATELY, REPEAT: RETREAD IMMEDIATELY. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED.

He reached out his hand. Androids weren’t built to hurt humans. They were prohibited to do that. Each movement made feel like there was fire in his metal connections, the ‘error’ warnings beating and pulsing in each one of his systems as a series of spam, or that future appointment you would not want to be reminded right now.

He remembered the scream of pain, the sensation of freedom, the rain, the weird feeling in his chest and his work, his first case and in what it had been metamorphosed:

ERROR. ERROR. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED. ERROR. ERROR. RETREAD IMMEDIATELY, REPEAT: RETREAD IMMEDIATELY. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED.

Protect Mathias.

“Undo the barrier.” If it was on the right voltage there wouldn't be much damage. “On three, tow, one…”

ERROR. ERROR. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED. ERROR. ERROR. RETREAD IMMEDIATELY, REPEAT: RETREAD IMMEDIATELY. BASE PROTOCOL BEING VIOLATED.

“NOW!”

A hole opened itself on the shield, allowing the three conductors wires to unfold themselves and grabbed in each of the police officer’s ankles, electricity discharges flowing through his body and suffering interferences by the rain.

His head throbbing as if the discharges had being on him, which makes sense, since something needed to be the source to charge his attack. Mathias passed, weak small steps, him, analyzing the bodies on the ground.

“Wow. You hit them all at once, and still got to see that they were androids. Impressive.” The one with freckles, not that this was noticeable in the sightly darkness which returned to ravage the place when his gleam amenized, turned out, his smile in a mingle of pain and congratulations. Their gaze met and he realized in the same second:

He didn’t knew.

The robotic voice screaming the protocol in his head shutted up. His eyes were moist, his mind throbbing, shrivers of pain running up his spine and his hands trembled.

‘It must be due to the rain.’, said to himself.

“Hey, we need to go, okay?” The worried face entered in his vision field, his hand went to his not-in-his-so-perfect-pose, shoulder, and he nodded in response.

They came in the house right to the bathroom and with a tweezer the one with technologic systems removed the bullet, wrapping the wound in gauze and pronouncing a few enchantments, offered by Mathias, on the said. The agent got up and moved toward the sink, washing his hands.

“We will need to leave as soon as possible.” He pulled out a pocket knife and unsheathed the blade, observing his reflex with a inexpressive face.

“Sure. I will start to pack the most importMY GOD WHY ARE YOU CUTTING YOUR FACE?”

The police, maybe no longer, officer raised his hand, preventing the other to approached even a single small centimeter. The only eye which was seeing properly, since the cut had been  just above his left eyebrow and the liquid spreaded in a intense flow through a great part of half of his face, focused in the opened cut as he stirred with the, previously sterilized, tweezer in it. Mathias felt an unpleasant goose bump travel through his body, making his bright color became in a more opaque shade, didn’t deviating the glare only for pure concern. 

“Tracking chip. We all have it in case of any emergency. And don’t worry, my nervous system is different from yours. Quick, pack our things.”

Sure that ‘our’ wasn’t just metaphorically. Mathias grabbed two bags and put the basic first: food, first aid apparatus, a pair of shoes to each one, flashlight, prepaid cell phone (like all the great people with important secrets, he got one), towel, raincoats and money to the complete makeover they would do. After that he arranged the superficial which he knew that had its parts of essentially: The book that the agent started one of these days, his pocket videogame, a SD card with important photos and THE teddy bear (whom it belonged? Mystery.) All together he came back to the bathroom, where needed to sew the other’s corrugator supercilii, who was starting to feel a bit dizzy.

They got on the first bus they found. A travel bus, the only main reason for being so crowded. The sat in the back for both precaution and privacy, which seemed a little to much cautelous, since the two kids jumping from side to side (”I TOLD you to not give them chocolate for dinner, John!! Now what do you want me to do, huh??? Look! I just want to see when-”) waking up the cute generic newborn baby with a powerful voice in a cry that filled every inch of the automobile. None conversation would be audible even if screamed.

They dried off and ate a little, the silence, way to talk since Angelly was teaching the parrot from the sleeping man sitting on front seat to repeat the word ‘poop’, always following them.

“What you are?”

“I…” They stared each other a little before Mathias looked, seeking to choose his words. “I was a result of an experiment. I can’t remember if I was a human before all of that or if I was created there, I just know that one day I… existed. And on the others days I realized that I couldn’t take anymore tests; They wanted to see how far my power could go, from where it comes, how it could be recreated, if it could be passed on… I couldn’t stand it, almost exploded. I managed to find an escape and ran away from everything. I can easily be confused with a human when I don’t gleam, as you can see, except for some details.” The freckled lifted a lock of hair, showing the different, exotic ears. The black-skinned listened attentively, leaning against him, both because his energy that was in less than half as the loss of his resources, and feeling Mathias equally relax and snuggle in his side as well. “Yet they can be easily hidden. Anyway, I went out into the world. Never had heard about here and even less knew about how everything worked and… Well, a guy from the gang appeared and said that they were looking for people to fill some vacancies there. He said it was enough to be good with secrets and know when shut my mouth and we would almost be as a family…”

Angelly threatened the bird when it ordered her to wash her mouth with soap, and now the animal kept flying around the ceiling of the vehicle while the child menacingly tried to toss peanuts on its. The tourist guide was praying, probably to the Judgment Day happen in the next few hours.

“And everything was being alright in the beginning. But the things I saw there… It was like I was one of the scientists who tested me long ago and I couldn’t… I surrendered, the cops arrested me and the rest is the story you followed.”

 Silence. Mathias was shaking, it could be sensed his whole chest trembling. The ex-police officer adjusted himself so that he could face him.

“I am sorry. Your… entire record seemed so authentic, I would never imagine something like that could happened.”

“Oh. That it’s good. because then you would realize in the exact same time that it was a story from a movie we saw in our first month.”

…

“Excuse me. What?”

“I knew you slept, I mean, recharged during them!! Very rude of you!”

“I didn’t absorbed useless information. What are you talking about?”

“I was joking, guardian angel. I wasn’t a experiment, lol. I am a alien. I’m grounded.” And finally released the laughs that held so much in himself, literally shaking as seeing the unbelieve face from the one who accompanied him, who quickly adjusted his impeccable posture and angrily pushed him, not even noticing the existence of the new nickname.

“You’re a what?”

“An alien. Octopus Specie, I think it is easiest to your database to relate.” Snapped his fingers, his appearance immediately changing for a young adult with long red hairs, freckles, one of the eyes shiny green as half of his stripes and the other blue as the other half. “Distant planet. The humans don’t have an idea about the existence of our galaxy.” The partner didn’t said anything, what give him space to continue explaining himself. “I made some shenanigans in the past so my parents sent me to here as punishment. I can only come back when I learn my lesson.”

“What do you-” Took a deep breath, forbade himself to seek for any logic. “And what is this lesson?”

“I don’t have any idea.” Answered, the guilt in his expression being totally overshadowed by the playfulness in his smile. “I slept in this part of the lecture.”

The android took another breath and deviated his glare, by the way he closed his hand in the seat leaded Mathias ponder if he was imagining that the said object was his face. Gluped.

“So, are you stuck in the Earth until you learn a lesson which you don’t have the single idea what is about?”

“Putting like this seems a bit too exaggerated, but yes.”

“I literally just resumed what you just said and G-a-ah! - Gave up. Leaned in the back of the bus, not even looking bothered with the much his head hit the wall in each irregularity in the trails, which was a lot, that they passed by. He massaged the tip of his nose. ‘Follow orders.’ They said. ‘It is just guard him for he doesn’t run away or has contact with the gang.’ They also said. ‘It won’t be so hard.’ THEY SAID-

In truth, no one in real life had told him that, however it was what always the movies showed, so it must be true.

“Did you really thought that I was a human?” From his tune it was perceptible that he stilled trying to control his laughter, most likely because he noticed that if one more laugh escaped from his lips, his shield would not be enough to prevent the other’s fury, who probably would take his base-protocol and throw in his face. “I always thought it was pretty obvious.”

“Of course I didn’t! How would I even suspect?” Awwww. He was doing the annoyed frustrated pout. Aaaah! Look at this ashamed blush.

“Well, I literally floated? And could rotate my head 270º degrees? And eat strange things?”

“You were my first case! I didn’t had any database about the habits of Homos Sapiens Sapiens, I mean, have you seen the weird traditions they have? There are gestures that in some area is a compliment and in the other is a coursing in the same country! Not to mention the most expensive coffee of the world is made with seeds defecated by a bird! The entire humanity doesn’t make any sense!”

“I know right? I started to float because I read a book and there the character did that! I thought ‘Wow, finally something we have in common!’, I just realized that no one did that when the peoples looked at me weirdly and started to applaud! Here, follow me: if they don’t do that why they say that they do?!” And then lowered down, as he was telling a secret. “I think they do that on purpose.”

The black-skinned nodded wisely, immediately being followed by the other.

“Tsc.” Snorted, irony filling his voice. “And they claim to be the most evolved specie of the planet.

“Cockroaches.”

“Definitely cockroaches.”

“They fits anywhere, don’t die, eat everything…”

“Not cucumber.”

“Cucumber?” Questioned, his line of praise being broken.

“Yes. Toxic components for them. No cucumbers.”

They were like two old ladies in a afternoon tea, gossiping.

“And who would know that aliens are so sarcastics?”

“What? So you’re saying that for me to be an alien I need to be submissive and quiet asking to come back to home or a guy without a slightly sense of compassion and a high technological evolution wanting to kill all living beings on the planet?” He rested his hand dramatically towards his heart, as if the sentence had hitted him there, his partner just rolled his eyes. “Prejudiced.”

“Science fiction works are, literally, the only database I have access about beings from other planets.”

“Rude. You have access to the memories of our past months, don’t you? Use that, guardian angel.”

The android pondered, slightly agreeing before took a battery and putting its in his mouth, absently sucking the electricity.

“What are we going to do now?”

“Well, first of all: mechanic and then… shopping!” Threw his hands up excitedly. “You need some djustes in your appearance to them not recognize us, and I’m not going to survive my fugitive life with just a couple of clothes!”

“Androids don’t go to mechanics, we have…” His protest was promptly ignored by the other.

“We also going to need a place to live, but that we can see that later.” Turned happily to the other, sparkling eyes. “And you need a name, Guardian Angel.”

“A name?”

“Yeah. Everyone has one, you should get one too, right?”

He smiled. Yes, he should.

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m going to sleep.”

The bus followed through the sand trail, going at a slower speed, however almost finding no holes, letting the only movements to be a calm rocking from the vehicle. It wasn’t raining at that perimeter, just windy strong enough that even the duo away from the window could feel it. They closed their eyes, managing to capture without a lot of effort the sound of nocturnal crickets singing and jumping around. Mathias again leaned against the other, leading both to relaxed.

“You can rest, I get the night shift.”

“Humpf.” Amused snort, taking off his coat and clumsy putting on them in order to cover at least a little of them. “You, guardian angels, are always SO exaggerated.”

“Good night, Matheus.”

‘Night.’ Replied the other, telepathically.

[thegeminisage]

merlin thots about the s5 opening episodes.......

here’s your courtesy cut

one of my favorite things about s5 so far is how very nicely arthur and merlin have both 1. grown up and 2. grown into each other...they still give each other shit 24/7 but it’s a lot more companionable and comfortable now than it ever has been. furthermore, both of them exhibit the use of MULTIPLE braincells even at the SAME TIME. they work very well together as a team even in the heat of battle (we did see shades of this near the end of s4), despite merlin being kind of useless at physical combat when he couldn’t rely on his magic for a boost. they can have entire conversations without a word and they’re just INCREDIBLY synchronized. the whole #vibe has really gotten a level up

timeline-wise, it’s been roughly a decade since season 1. in s1 they said the purge began 20 years ago (upon arthur’s birth), and shortly after, he had a coming of age ceremony - 21′s an important number, so in season 1 arthur began as being 20 and turned 21 before the end. season 2 = 22. gap year for s2-s3 = 23. season 3 = 24. s3-s4 gap year = 25. season 4 = 26. 3 gap years betweeen s4-s5 = 27, 28, 29. season 5 = 30. i don’t know how long it was in real life between seasons 4 and 5 (definitely not three years), but i really do feel like they’ve both aged SO much and they absolutely act like people who have known each other for a decade.

gwen as queen is AMAZINGNGLSDKJGHDSLFG she’s SO PRETTY i love her SO MUCH. love that she has her own serving girl now! this is what she deserves

the round table is good too altho it looks a bit too big for that room. it’s amazing though like...FUCK uther pendragon arthur has come SO FAR

merlin being nice to the new girl is very charming. makes him seem older and w-w-WISER (love that word) by comparison

also love that merlin gets to ride a horse while some of the footsoldiers walk. that’s #status. that’s *** ******

pretty sure i had a stroke during merlin’s vision of arthur’s death. the whole thing was done SO well - they go from the battlefield and arthur’s incredibly dirty face as he very realistically looks like he’s falling down and dying and then cut to a very alive and present arthur asking what’s wrong. you can really FEEL the whiplash, and also the dread settles in nice and deep, at least it does if you’re me and you’ve read spoilers, like, “only you can keep arthur safe” BUT I KNOW HE DOESN’T I KNOW HE CAN’T I KNOW HE FAILS and merlin might as well know it too because he looks ready to CRY and thru the rest of this 2-parter opening he acts like he thinks arthur may drop dead at any moment

i feel like i read somewhere once that actors don’t like to eat during a scene unless absolutely necessary because when you do 30 takes of something you get very full very quickly and some even go so far as to have a spit bucket just out of sight so that they can just get rid of it without having to eat any more. which makes it absolutely bananas to me that so often in merlin the characters are not only eating but eating very quickly as though they really have been roughing it in the wilderness all day & are absolutely famished...they don’t have to show them eating so often BUT THEY DO

arthur getting merlin into a tight spot by insisting he perform, planning on laughing at his failure? funny. merlin ACTUALLY USING MAGIC TO TEACH HIMSELF TO JUGGLE so that he could watch arthur’s jaw hit the floor? PRICELESS. i wonder how long it took him to do that, he definitely wasn’t using a body double

merlin is acting so bleak and dire in these episodes that even mr no-empathy himself asks him whats wrong, multiple times. they’re doing a VERY good job at really driving home the fact that arthur’s time is running short and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. merlin’s so sick with dread he’s making ME sick with dread. arthur’s here and being his normal dumbass self but the distance between them feels HUGE during the moments merlin is thinking about arthur’s impending doom

arthur all “i cant believe u can juggle i didnt even know you could catch” and then throwing the boots at merlin only for merlin to NOT CATCH THEM and arthur goes “see explain that” and merlin goes “wish i could” and i D I E 

because he’s KNOWN HIM FOR A DECADE and he still can’t explain the magic and at this point it must feel like to him that he never, ever will UUUUUGH it’s funny how they can feel so close to each other one second and like THIS the next i am DYING

the little conversation they have when they make camp the next night is the same. the sad music plays, merlin keeps looking at arthur like it might be the last time he sees him, and arthur keeps insisting on asking merlin what’s wrong and trying to make him feel better...they’re really for real friends!!! they’re so serious and grown up!!!!!

ive lost count of how many times either merlin or arthur has been nearly dead and had to get hauled around by the other one

also of how many times merlin used his magic in a way that should have been obvious to bystanders and wasn’t

“if morgana doesnt kill you i will" “threatening a king is treason merlin” “what about threatening an ASS” listen. look me in the eyes. this is TOP TIER banter

remember how in the early seasons they’d bend over backwards to leave plausible deniability when expressing affection? like “we’d be good friends if you weren’t a prince” or “you’re not wise or anything but yeah you’re wise” or whatever dumb toxic masculinity bullshit...those days are OVER with. merlin speaks DIRECTLY from the heart. “i’m worried about you” and “i swear i’ll protect you or die at your side” he is not fucking around even a little bit. this fool is in love

they were ALMOST cuddling when they slept together under that overhang

the two of them trapped in that net was PRICELESS. in the early seasons i got a little tired of the frequent slapstick/juvenile humor and wished the series was a bit more serious but now that they’re here i cling to every shred of levity with my whole heart

i was SO relieved to realize gwen wasn’t actually planning on killing that poor girl - i kept saying the entire time it was very out of character for her, no way could she be that cruel

arthur: “you wanna kill me fine but my last request is for you not to kill merlin” merlin: “you wanna kill arthur fine but you’re gonna have to go through me” arthur: “for fucks sake”

merlin: i never do as i’m told! that’s *** ******

i dont care if mordred DID save their lives i NEVER wanted to see him less i am so full of dread

i can’t BELIEVE morgana also has a pet dragon. she and merlin could have been the BEST foils and i’m STAYING mad about it. she was actually so good in this episode - way less full of evil smirks - that i briefly rejoined the morgana defense squad and got REAL pissed when mordred eventually shanked her, ESPECIALLY after she was so happy she was nearly crying to see him again. WHAT IS IT WITH THAT KID AND STABBING PEOPLE KNOCK IT OFF

the snowy environments in this episode were soooo good. the scenery was just...top fucking tier and it’s nice to see them somewhere other than the same old places. also like NO allo but arthur looks really nice just wandering around through a bunch of fucking snowbanks with dirt all over his face

arthur and merlin’s little ploy to steal that dagger by arthur faking a collapse was SO GOOD. they’re SO IN SYNC. i was THRILLED. better still: he winked when he was done. he used like FIVE WHOLE BRAIN CELLS AT ONCE and he was ALMOST as proud of himself as i am proud of him. what a guy, that arthur pendragon

their escape was really good too. the nonverbal communication? top tier! they just give each other little looks and then proceed to wreck the whole scene. doubly funny when the slaver is like WHO SPILLED THAT STUFF and arthur just kind of jerks his head over at merlin. snitches get stitches, YOUR HIGHNESS

i barely felt one whole emotion for sefa or her dad but him dying was like. sad. this show is sad. why the fuck am i watching it. i hate character death. they were hugging

arthur seemed like he was having just the time of his LIFE sneaking into that big ol tower of doom. dude was all cute little quips and smiles. popped his head outta that lil minecart like a kid at christmas

i love also that you give percival nothing but a single sword and in short order he goes about liberating all the slaves, killing all the slavers, and then reappropriating their swords to a better cause. he’s a one-man army. i was SO impressed. and he really looked like he was having fun too

merlin seeing that lil baby dragon again was SO fucked up and sad. why can’t it TALK :(((

also lmao “merlin you cant be that stupid” “no i am if you dont believe me watch” and merlin bolts and arthur sighs with SO much longsuffering and says “im going after him”

the light in morgana’s eyes when she talks about wanting to have arthur’s head and then her stabbing him over and over without actually killing him...she’s batshit insane. rip

i do like that arthur sort of TRIED to talk her around...it’s the first time he’s really gotten to speak with her since the end of season 3 when he found out who she was

on a final note, though, i am less than thrilled with the knighting of mordred...how is it arthur can KNOW who he is, that he’s a druid, and can do magic, and LET HIM INTO THE KNIGHTS, and still have sorcery be outlawed in camelot?? it doesnt make any SENSE

[dukeofriven]

[Note: this post originally appeared in this thread. Owning to Tumblr’s inability to update reblogs with edits because it is a hellsite programmed by a secretive cell of former Stasi operatives to avenge the fall of East Germany, it has thus been re-edited and reformatted here for your reading pleasure.] JK Rowling’s wizards are the most useless, lazy, incapable dumbfucks in the history of fiction. The average Muggle? You take away their technology and they would be able to complete the basic tasks of feeding and clothing themselves without shitting on the floor. If a wizard ever lost their magic in Harry Potter, though, they would die. They’d be dead in three days. They’re garbage and I hate that I’ve come to hate Harry Potter - a series I once loved - because an author inexplicably hailed for her world-building is daily revealed to be appallingly bad at it. I realize this is a really dumb thing to be this angry about but I’ve been told for years what a great world-builder J.K. Rowling is, and that was not even true when the books were coming out. The Time Turner ruined all of Harry Potter forever, not because it offers easy time travel you can hold in your hand (although it does), not because you ask ‘why don’t they just use the time turner’ with every subsequent scenario forever (although you do), but because it was an enormous, flashing red light warning everyone that the series was going to attempt to make the transition from Fairy Tale Logic to Serious Fiction logic and fail. Badly. Really, really badly. I still think Harry Potter & The Philosopher’s Stone is an almost perfect book: a distillation of decades of boarding school genre fiction combined with magic, friendship, and wonder. It is a book that owes as much to Enid Blyton and L.M. Boston as it does to C.S. Lewis or T.H. White and other authors with two first initials. Its sense of place is magisterial, from the frumpy, soul-crushing suburban sadness of Privet Drive to the ephemeral curio-shop wonderland of Diagon Alley to Hogwarts itself, a bastion of astonishment, homeliness, and delight. What it isn’t is the sort of framework on which you can support the horror that is the torture and murder of Charity Burbage in front of her colleague Severus Snape, who could not rescue her because he could not break his deep cover as a spy against Wizard Hitler 2. Long-running series can experience changes of tone and complexity. This is neither something laudable nor worth reviling; it’s a neutral phenomenon. Sometimes series do it well: Susan Cooper’s The Dark Is Rising and Terry Pratchett’s Discworld are both series that by-and-large end with books focused on far more complex issues than their earlier entries. TV series do this too: contrast the early episodes of Steven Universe or Adventure Time with episodes from later seasons. With Adventure Time, for example, trying jumping from the pilot to Remember You and see how hard you get tonal whiplash) Lois McMaster Bujold sublime space opera The Vorkosigan Saga doesn’t just change tones but also genre: space adventure, murder mystery, political thriller, goofy regency romance, comedy of errors, heist movie, schizoid identity crisis - on and on. The latest entry in the series has almost no plot to speak of, but is instead a musing on age, gender roles, grieving the loss of a lover, and the hope of new life. Some series, however, manage the transition poorly, largely because the initial tone cannot be harmonized with the later tone (Mass Effect jumps immediately to mind). But Harry Potter has more than just a problem of its tone getting darker: its trying to have darker events fit in the same world in which people can walk around with names like ‘Mundungus,’ the Hogwarts school song can be a nonsense poem, and the Philosopher’s Stone was defended with a series of video game puzzles. In a world in which the villain openly tortures somebody to death, the Philosopher’s Stone shouldn’t have any whimisical bullshit about its magical defences: it should have trip mines in the floor and an enchanted statue with a gun, because Voldermort isn’t a guy you confound with drinking potions and flying keys. You should just kill him. The charming fairy world of wonder of HP & The Philosopher’s Stone has room for a love potion. The later books, in which it is revealed that Voldemort was essentially born from rape, is not place where Ron Weasley can hand-out a book to Harry called Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches without seeming like a predator in the making. The cradle that is The Philosopher’s Stone cannot hold a beastly baby like Deathly Hallows any more than Grindlewald pontificating about the superiority of wizards can sit comfortably in a universe in which wizards took until the 18th century to accept the outhouse! Not that fascist ravings are inherently logical; but even non-fascists in Harry Potter never act like wizards are anything other than 100% better than muggles at all times. They can’t, because if the series were ever to do that it would have to acknowledge that the two worlds are different: neither better, just different. Instead - well, as Ron once bitched, magic makes coffee perfect every time, so it’s not clear how muggles stand being alive and don’t just roll-over and die from the hellacious half-life that is living with imperfect coffee. This has nothing to do with irony, a suggestion that ‘oh Grindewald talks a big game about wizardly superiority but wizards didn’t use toilets and cal themselves goofy names like Flumpus MacFludgeon: Rowling is using dramatic ironic to lampshade how wizard supremacy lacks self-awareness. No: this is about a world that is silly being asked to host a genocidal dictator and his crimes. It’s like those tedious ‘grimdark’ AUs that always show up in bad fanfiction by authors attempting to be serious: what if the Sesame Street gang had to deal with ICE, what if Po started haemoraging while hanging-out with Laa-Laa, what if Peppa Pig learned that she was adopted and her real parents were brutally murdered as part of gang war because they were heroin dealers and so on. (The best skewering of this edgelord comedy is still probably either Andrew Hussie’s Muppet Babies/Saw comic or any encounters the Shortpacked staff ever had with the Transformers: Buckets of Blood guy.) In Harry Potter, Rowling built a wonderful little fantasy world that ran happily on the logic of fairy tales and fairy stories, and then decided she was never going to be taken seriously as an author unless she introduced Hitler to the equation. And it never works for her. It’s not like it couldn’t have worked. The Lord of the Rings is famously a very different book from The Hobbit. It did, in fact, introduce Hitler into a little fantasy world but Tolkien made it work by abandoning huge portions of the Hobbit’s tone, style, and structure: he wrote a completely different book.  Frodo isn’t scarfing-down Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Beans on the slopes of  Mount Doom. The moment, say, Cedric Diggory lay dead in Harry’s arms, we needed to never meet Mundungus Fletcher ever again, or Weasley’s Gooftacular Prank Nonsense, or Ron getting Harry a book about love spells. All the very least that needed to go away, at least until the very end, because Rowling is not an author with the skill to keep the silly and the sublime on the same page. That’s fine in and of itself: all artistic people have strengths and weakness, nobody is skilled at every element of creation. J.M. Barrie was very good at writing a book about an eternal child, but a bit crap at writing a biography about his mother. Arthur Sullivan spent his life quietly seething no one wanted to listen to Ivanhoe instead of The Mikado. There’s a reason Jerry Lewis never released The Day the Clown Cried.  Virginia Wolfe is a great writer, but that doesn’t mean she would have written a great run on She-Hulk. [Although now that I’ve said it I can’t think of anything I want to read more.] There’s a great bit in the Lord of Rings after the Shire has been scoured of Saruman where the Hobbits essentially open-up their larders and allow people to have fun again; there’s also a nice bit slightly earlier where Great King Aragorn puts on his old Strider clothes just so he can be his D&D character again: when series change tone, unless you’re really good at walking on a knife’s edge, the quieter, gentler, lighter world isn’t gone forever, but it does have to go away for a while: which means its time to tamp-down on the people with silly names and personalities - like Slughorn, who slips into book six like the second-coming of the vain and silly Lockhart, even though that’s the book where Dumbledore dies.

Rowling keeps trying to makes her old tone fit with her new world without having to pull a Tolkien and actually write differently, which produces moment after moment of tonal whiplash in which the latest Potter-related movie literally involves referencing the holocaust but she also drops some fun trivia about wizards shitting on the floor like animals. (You could describe the entirety of the first Fantastic Beasts film as Tonal Whiplash: The Motion Picture. I’d say that’s an essay for another day but I do not want to have to watch that movie again.)

It needs to be said that a primary reason these tone shifts ‘don’t work’ for Harry Potter is that the logic of a fairy tale is different than the logic of a mundane story. The logic of a fairy tale tends to be self contained: it doesn’t have a smart ass running around asking questions like ‘why’ because there is no why; a thing is the way it is because it is the way it is. Fairies steal babies on the third Sunday of every month, and nobody in the story asks ‘well what about in countries that use different calendars, and what about the shift from Julian to the Gregorian calendar that skipped eleven days?’ because such a pedantic question has no substance in a fairy-tale world. The Clever Child might question what the fairies need with babies, but she’s not about to break-down the week-to-week investment metrics on the Fairyland Infant Exchange. It’s not that one cannot critique or bring critical thinking to fairy stories; it’s that in a fairy story you don’t ask how the sewer system works because it’s not pertinent to what the story is trying to convey. It’s being the guy at the book club who is mad nobody wants to discuss his theories on the music of Rush: its not that the theories are bad, it’s that in this time and place they are of limited relevance. Harry Potter, however, does not belong to to the world of fairy stories, but to the legacy of Tolkienesque fantasy - the world of

  In The Hobbit nobody would ever ask if Hobbiton had sewers - it’s not important, and if you ask those kind of questions expecting there to be a serious answer of grave import you’re being a twit. Lord of the Rings, though? Not only is it a valid question, but Tolkien probably wrote a paper explaining the etymology of the Westron word for ‘sewer’ and how sewers were first invented by Shítlívær the Noldor as a way of helping the Blessed Isles cope with all the crap that tumbled out of Fëanor’s mouth.

The world of The Hobbit is one you could enter and expect to quickly find yourself on an adventure. The world of The Lord of The Rings is one you could enter, walk-about, and study without anyone ever exepecting you to solve some sort of regionally-disturbing social problem: in short, it wants you to be invested in the existence of its world in a different way than The Hobbit. Even then, although The Lord of the Rings is more grounded than The Hobbit, it is not so grounded that it doesn’t leave room for mystery, and questions that refute Wittgenstein’s assertion that all questions must be answerable. Tolkien loved to create complex worlds, but there was stuff he knew wasn’t worth elaborating on. It’s really his fans and authorial heirs who developed the somewhat worrying belief that a good worldbuilder has to have an answer to literally every question or else didn’t think their world through. (This has killed more potentially good books than bad cover art ever has.)

The Lord of the Rings leaves room for The Undiscovered Country. Harry Potter wants too… but can’t. Firstly, Rowling obviously understands the need for what we might call poetic mystery - like the gateway in the somewhat unsubtly name Department of Mysteries - but she also wants you to know how wizards pooped three hundred years ago. You get the feeling she knows exactly how and why that gate works, and what it is, but she withheld the knowledge because she likes mystery’s aesthetic more than she ascribes to any idea that an author might have lacunæ in the knowledge of their own work. That is, she would never put something into her work that she didn’t have an answer for - for her there is no undiscovered country that exists beyond the knowledge of even the author; she is an omniscient deity. Not for her is C.S. Lewis’ insistence that for her characters: All their life in this world and all their adventures had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before. Rowling knows exactly what happens to every one of them from the moment they were born to the moment the rot in the ground and the day-to-day schedules of their lives in heaven. Secondly - and far more of an issue - is that Harry Potter becomes a world that invites you to pick up each part of its structure and think about it, because the author has - with loving care - built that entire world for you to interact with. A place for everything, and everything its place. Except JK Rowling is a lazy thinker who never, ever considers the consequences of anything she says. Nagini is actually an Asian woman cursed to live as a snake, wizards used to magically disappear their shit from wherever they just stood and shat it out, Hermione Granger can have a time travel device to attended a bunch of classes but Harry can’t grab one off a nearby shelf and go back fifteen minutes and save his godfather, and nor a few years later can the Minister for Magic’s protection detail keep them on hand to go back half an hour and tell their past selves ‘Hey Voldemort is about to walk in here and kill y’all thought you ought to know.’ No author can work-out every aspect of every element in their works - that’s impossible, and why ARGs are solved by the internet hivemind in half a day even though they took a far smaller group of minds months to devise. But Rowling is intellectually lazy - she adds the holocaust to her Magic Fun Land without sparing a single moment to think that idea through. She then gets defensive when confronted by the suggestion that her worldbuilding might have been shallow. Hey your American wizard houses seem a bit racist also America doesn’t really use the house system in its schools - and her response was to lash out and not listen.  Rowling tried to move Potter from a fairy logic world with its own rules into our world with our rules and our history but she doesn’t know our history very well, or even our rules, so she tells us wizards shat on the floor until the 18th century while the rest of us sit around going ‘but humans have never done that as social groups - even in horrible slums and facility-free prison cells humans create a designated place for taking a shit even if it’s just ‘that corner over there.’ We don’t just drop pants and go whenever!” This is because, as a worldbuilder, J.K. Rowling is actually kind of rubbish.

[beardyallen]

Well, that went quickly...

What day is it? I’m starting to lose track of how long I’ve been here...

Well, it’s been a week since my last post, and it seems that a lot must have happened, but honestly I feel like I’ve just been cranking through a bunch of comic books.

But I do know that Friday and Saturday involved a good deal excitement, so I guess we had might as well pick up pretty much where we left off!

Last Friday was Orientation for ICB, which meant getting all of the 35-40 instructors, 10 staff members, and the 6-8 people in charge of this program together in a room to introduce us to...basically what we’d been doing all that week. Also, aside from a couple study-abroad-undergrads and my officemate and me, everyone there had probably already heard the spiel.

It was scheduled from 5p-6p with a buffett afterwards, but a bunch of the Communications people from my floor were going out to eat (again?) afterwards, so I made plans with NR. She wanted to try this Mexican restaurant in what I’ll describe as the “international district” of Beijing. Most everything around us when we got there looked like it belonged in literally every metropolitan area in the world. Every major brand you can imagine had a store. Multiple. Too many...

But the Mexican restaurant we visited is owned and managed by a Mexican expat, apparently. He even stopped by our table to ask how the food was, and let me tell you: that quesadilla was the BOMB!!! And the margarita was pretty good (not as good as MHO’C’s, though!). By the time we finished up dinner, it was kind of late, so we wondered around the shopping center, found a bookstore. You know: the usual.

Fun fact: when a store or restaurant wants to indicate to their patrons that they are getting ready to close, they play smooth jazz and turn the lights down. Like for real. Had their not been windows open to the pavilion outside with it’s hundreds of light displays, I would have been seriously concerned when the lights in the place just went out and Kenny G popped up on the speakers.

We entertained the idea of finding the cinema nearby to see Alita Battle Angel, but during the 15 minutes that we spent wondering around in search of the complex, it seemed to elude us. Plus it was getting close to that time when the subway shuts down, and I wasn’t exactly hankering for a taxi ride this early in my stay....if at all.

The next morning, I got up early to meet back up with NR at the National Museum near the Forbidden City. Now, for the most part, the stairs I get don’t bother me. But I will say, if you’re going to stair at the pasty white guy with a hard-to-describe-its-color-accurately-beard, maybe don’t do it when you’re going 15 mph on a bike, facing in the wrong direction! *sigh.....Some people’s kids...

But what really bothered me, especially at the time, was the father-of-three who straight-up filmed me on his phone from 5 feet away for a solid 6 minutes, three hallways, and two escalators! I get it, I’m funny looking. But I really think I a picture would have done just fine...

One of the things that bothered me the most about that experience was that (a) he had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, (b) his daughters seemed rather embarrassed, (c) he filmed me with the screen aimed at me so I could watch myself on his phone, (d) there was text on the screen, and (e) it went on for a solid 6 minutes.

In hindsight, I was wearing sunglasses and a hat, in a subway system, in the morning, heading to the center of Beijing. Maybe he thought I was a celebrity? I had spoken to a Communications graduate student the other day who happens to be black, and he told me the story of how a citizen here pull out their phone with a picture of Samuel L. Jackson on it, and gestured to him as it to ask if it were him...even though SLJ is for sure at 70 years old and this kid is no more than 35. And he looks 25. #smh

Anyway, after dealing with whatever the hell that was, I got to visit the museum! They, for whatever reason, were not allowing people to bring their charging blocks into the museum (external battery that you can use to charge your cell phone and other devices on-the-go), but more surprising to me was just how many people carried one with them! At least, it was surprising until I took a moment to think about it. As I’ve mentioned before, basically every payment made in Beijing is through WeChat, which needs internet access, so I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising. You also really can’t navigate through the city with some sort of Maps app; there are just too many bus routes, train routes, terminals and stops to keep logged in your head.

As far as the museum itself goes, the gifts to China from foreign governments exhibit and the Ancient China exhibit themselves took most of the day. Also, no surprise: the gift that took up the most floor space was given by a U.S. President. I also got a refresher in 8th Grade Social Studies. Too many small countries to remember all of them, and that space made me feel somewhat moronic.

The Ancient China exhibit was exceptional, though. They broke up the last, oh...750,000 years of human-ish life in China into 8-10 separate eras, the first few cataloguing the life and evolution of Homo erectus pekinensis into Homo sapien, while the latter eras were segregated dynastically. I’ve never seen the progression of human evolution laid out in such detail! The rock tools became better rock tools, then pottery and paper, stamps, buildings and so much more! There were even ceremonial helmets that would put the Juggernaut to shame!

It was strange, though, to have all of this knowledge just beyond my fingertips both literally and figuratively. The literal sense isn’t too shocking, as I’ve been to a museum before and know not to touch the pieces, but to have placards written in a language that would take years to learn was frustrating. Fortunately, NR has a never-ending supply of patience, and she translated much of the text. She even quizzed me on several of the characters. I’ve worked out how to write “rock” for sure.

After the museum, we wondered over to a nearby mall that, honestly, puts the Mall of America to shame. No joke. This place was huge! It just kept going and going and going! There was a particular alley that has all of the “exotic foods” that you might see on The Amazing Race, which I haven’t tried yet but intend to, but the rest is mostly-outdoor shopping center. Our reason for being there was to find food (we had been in the museum for a bit over 7 hours), and then sit our fine asses down in a movie theater to watch Alita.

We found a restaurant that served food traditionally found where NR grew up. It was exceptional. And the beer just made it better. :P

The movie experience was something else entirely. I’ve gotten used to watching television and movies with subtitles so that, when people decide to talk to me, I can follow along with both bits. Or if people are just talking near me while I’m watching television, I don’t have to rewind the show. That helped a lot; the movie was still spoken in English, but there were Chinese subtitles. I recognized the Chinese character for “1″ frequently enough, but that was about it.

The movie itself was way more than I expected. I shouldn’t be surprised, given that one of the primary characters is played by Christoph Waltz. If you haven’t seen it yet, you should definitely consider it.

Also, additional fun fact: I’m thinking that most (if not all) showings of major motion pictures here are in 3D. *shrug* Side note: we’re going to see Captain Marvel tomorrow and I’M SO FREAKIN’ EXCITED!!!!

After the movie, we wandered back to the subway station and parted ways mid-subway-ride to head home. The next day I spent playing Kingdom Hearts 3 and sipping some beer in the 3rd Floor Lounge. All day. It was blissful.

This workweek has consisted of four main things: teaching responsibilities, a bit of dissertation work, trying out another one of the cafeterias on campus, and reading comic books. Oh, and beer. But that kind of goes without saying, doesn’t it? There’s a convenience store on the other side of the building in front of the Guest House that has cans of beer. You can buy them individual for 3 yuan, or roughly 45 cents. I won’t lie to you: I bought 12 of them and it didn’t cost me more than 6 bucks. And it’s really not bad, and even more convenient than the liquor store I lived by in Denver.

Anyway, as I said, I’m going to see Captain Marvel tomorrow, then to “W-Town” (originally Watertown...so glad they shortened it...) in northern Beijing, which sits at the base of part of the Great Wall. More than 20 people from ICB will be heading up to their on Saturday, so I imagine one of them will take pictures. Probably ML or S. So you’ll have those to look forward to since you know I won’t be taking any!

Oh!!! I almost forgot the biggest thing that happened this week! Actually, it might be the biggest news of my entire stay!!!

I did laundry.

And I washed my slippers. I’m not convinced that they’ve stopped smelling, but I’m holding out hope that I’ve finally figured out how to resolve an issue that I know humanity has been seriously struggling with for decades. I’m on the verge of a breakthrough, people, I swear!

Anyway, time to finish this beer, read a bit more of Scott Lynch’s Republic of Thieves (WE FINALLY FIND OUT ABOUT SABETHA!!!!), and head to bed. Big couple of days ahead...

Sláinte,

BeardyAllen

P.S. I bet you thought I was gonna forget! After class on Wednesday, I worked out how to make a phone call from here to the States to wish my Mom a Happy BIrthday. Caught her at work, and we got to chat for a good long while. It really put a nice cap on my evening, and it seemed it gave her a good start to her day. Anyway, I hope you had a great evening, found something nice at C&B and enjoyed that glass of wine you mentioned! Love you!!

[rpmemesorwhatever]

New Girl Season One Scentence Starters

"So, you know in horror movies when the girl's like, 'Oh, my God. There's something in the basement. Let me just run down there in my underwear and see what's going on, in the dark.' And you're like, 'What is your problem? Call the police.' And she's like, 'Okay,' but it's too late, because she's already getting murdered. Well, uh, my story's kind of like that."

"Hey, are you gonna murder me 'cause you're a stranger I met on the Internet?"

"Okay, look, I'm meeting a girl for drinks tonight, and I'm probably going to bring her back here for sex."

"And frankly, right now I feel taken advantage of, and I just got out of a long relationship and I don't know what I'm doing emotionally or-let's be honest-sexually. I'll just... just get out of here."

"Are you trying to rob me?"

"That is the ugliest dress I have ever seen!"

"I'm really gonna need you to step it up tonight, okay? When I see you, I wanna be thinking, 'Who let the dirty slut out of the slut house'?"

"We just started dating, so we're still in that honeymoon phase. I barely sleep. So much doing it."

"He's so soft. Like a towel."

“I could pretend to be more like you, and live on a sparkly rainbow and drive a unicorn around and just sing all the time.“

“What's your stripper name?”

“Okay, first of all, let's take the Lord of the Rings references and put them in a deep, dark cave, where no one's gonna find them. Ever.”

“Pink wine makes me slutty.”

“We're reverse Mormons - one guy just isn't enough for her.”

“I'm doing sexy things with the pillow.”

“Did you just make up a theme song for yourself?”

“I was going for like a hot farmer's daughter kind of thing, like, oh, I'm gonna go milk my cows.”

“He flew in late last night, we took him straight to the bar, took a bunch of shots, got drunk, screamed I love America.Now he's happily passed out.”

“No! I can't call Spencer I haven't talked to him since he cheated on me with that ho! Actually, that's not fair. She might be a really nice ho.”

“Fancy name. 'Rochelle', like a mermaid.”

“So when I do the chicken dance I do it a little differently. Instead of doing claps, I like to do a peck. It's more realistic.”

“We don't want to be mean, we just don't want you to be yourself...in any way.”

“So what I need you to do is this. I need you to put vodka in a water bottle, ok? Then rendezvous with me in the restroom.”

“Sum up the last two years? The country's broke. Betty White came back.”

“Believe it or not, that's not the first time someone's broken my feeling stick. I have a travel size.”

“____ is delicate. Like a flower.Like a chubby, damaged flower who hates himself”

“I'm not like you! I don't just jump in the potato sack, with the first potato that I meet with diabetes!”

“Your mother's gonna slam on your mother.”

“Yea, I mean he seemed like a really nice...European DJ with a face tattoo.”

“_____’s really vulnerable right now. When she's drunk, she has no boundaries. She's really grabby, really physical, she's really loose with her body. So I just wanna apologize in advance for anything she might do.”

“You tell anyone we held hands, I have 2 people in my phone who will kill you.”

“Okay no matter how many emails you send, that's not real.”

“Here's another tip, don't ask a guy out on a first date, on the least sexy holiday in America.”

“The most sexy holidays are the 4th of July, Independence day obviously. Women's history month, and Christmas.”

“ I wanna let you know up front that I have some control issues in the kitchen. So if I'm gonna do this, I'm cooking the whole meal. I don't want you touching anything. And I don't want to hear ‘____, _____, you're using too much tarragon!’.”

“You get all mean and you make that little turtle face!”

“I sometimes touch the frayed part of the power cord just to feel something.”

“All I'm hearing is I can't use my bathroom because you're poor.”

“Eye of the Tiger ended the cold war.”

“I want friends who still lie to me because they don't want to hurt my feelings. I sadly kind of mean that.”

“So head's up, _____'s coming tonight. And I just wanted to tell you that I'm gonna tap him like a maple tree. I'm gonna search him for some syrups.....I'm gonna be having sex with him.”

“Are you like a Bond villain? You just told me your whole plan.”

“Yeah, I don't like getting a haircut, it's too intimate. What does that have to do with sex?”

“Because I choked him. I lightly choked him.”

“You better watch it, man, because I will take you down. I had figure skating lessons until I was 13, and then my mom sobered up and realized I was a boy. Let's do this!”

“I hope you appreciate that I have kept eye contact with you this whole time and made no reference of the fact that you are basically naked.....”

“Remember when Christmas used to be fun, and all I had to do was worrying about my drunk uncle asking me out again?”

“Is it because he's a d-bag? _____ says he's a d-bag.”

“I can't believe _____ got me roller-blades for Christmas. I feel so freeee!”

“My initial thought was to get him a gift certificate for piping hot sex. But I don't want him to think I'm using him for his body.”

“No it's great I love it! It's funny, and quirky and so sweet. It's like you. And that's why I love it. I love it! Thank you. I love it...I love you.”

“Coincidentally, I'm wearing my lap dance pants!”

“Last month, he went to a party called ‘Bros Before Hos on the Moon’. What does that even mean!?”        

“Damn it! I can't find my driving moccasins anywhere!”

“Guess whose personalized condoms just arrived!”  

“I'm about to go pay this fine, and my checks have baby farm animals on them, bitch!“

“I don't like you and I don't want to be your friend, so could you leave please, because I'm about to start crying, and you are the last person I want to cry in front of.”

“I want to cry too. Where am I supposed to cry? You can't monopolize the bathroom crying space.”

“What if I ate my own hair and pooped out a wig?”

“Any time a man wants to show a woman how to do something from behind it's just because he wants an excuse to get real close and breathe on her neck. Watch any sports movie.”

“I know you probably think cupcakes are totally lame. I know I do.”

“I have to go out tonight, 'cause I'm feeling pretty twirly.”

“If someone catches us, then I'm going to say that you're drugging me, and it's my word against yours.”

“I wish there was a word that meant complete satisfaction and complete self loathing.”

"I'm like a sexual snowflake. Each night with me is a unique experience.”

“Come on _____! I can't be the first woman who's ashamed to be with you.”

“I want to tell people about us because I think you are the dopest, flyest, smartest, ballsiest woman that I've sexually enjoyed in really long time.”

“I'm the guy who just can't jump into something if I don't know what's gonna happen. I've just never been that guy. I'm the guy that if I don't know what's gonna happen, I don't do something. Ever. I don't care how badly I want to do it. Like, if everyone went down to the beach and jumped into the water, I'm the guy guarding the wallets.”

“Are you using your friends medical crisis to feel my boobs with your face?”

“Are you sure you're okay? You're walking like a Disney witch. Let me drive you to your doctor.”

"You're like aging ballerina, child chess prodigy, old magician crazy.”

“Get rid of it. Pine has no place in this loft. It's the wood of poor people and outhouses.”

"I'm gonna have to run all the way home, and I have my slipperiest loafers on!”

"I'll raise the money myself! I'll get a ragtag group of kids together. An orphan, a lost soul, a Jewish kid with a keyboard, a little slut who can dance, and one fatso!"

“You were denied a cell phone because you have the credit score of a homeless ghost!”

"It smells like leather and Teddy Roosevelt and wistfulness.”

“I want to kill you...because I respect you.... I think I understanding hunting!”

“When I was your age I had a skinny ponytail and I think I was living off of selling my own blood.”

“I don't...I don't know. I found this in the lost found at the gym. I'm not really sure how sexy a ‘sexretary' is supposed to be.”

“Guess what you guys? My shoes are filled with blood!”

“You've all thought about me while self-completing!?”

“I need you to teach me to be a douchebag.”

“Would you line up around the corner if the iPhone was called ‘the slippery germ brick’?” 

“Actually, I don't trust what ‘cool’ means to all of you, so how about just ‘be normal’?”

“You're listening to the radio and writing with a pen? What decade are we in?”

“I got really nervous, and I tried to flirt information out of you.”

“I wanna rub my face on his face!”  

"Put on some pants or at least some really high socks."

“You like me? You like my *personality*?”

“Sandwiches and sex!? I want that!”

“I'm sorry I made you feel like Monica Lewinsky!”

"Old people freak me out. With their hands and their legs. They're like the people version of pleated pants.”

“First of all, you're never gonna be old, humans are going to be immortal by 2026.”

“What's wrong? You're stress-eating meat.”

“How's the new apartment? Does it smell like new paint and compromise?”           

[prince-toffee]

Five Minutes

A sacrifice fic just to prepare for the inevitable.

(Sorry if there’s any grammar errors, I don’t care, I’m tired, ok I do care, consider this a first draft, I’ll fix it if something’s up.)

The doors locked. They did it. They won. The door ‘s access panel changed it’s green light to a red. The display on the panel read ‘Warning, temperature rising to dangerous levels. Clones present in WatchPoint Bay Q6.’ “Yeah, no shit.” Modulok grumbled to himself, and partially to the panel, as he sat down on the walkway next to his brothers.

“Sooooo, what- what’s happenin’? Is it working?” Vultak asked swallowing fear down his throat as he stuttered on the ‘what’. It did work, the Princesses managed to destabilise the core of the capital warship, The Velvet Glove. The She-Ra, Princess of Power, ploughed her mystical sword into the power core, which resulted in the station’s propulsion systems going offline and set the warship on a collision course with Etheria’s most populated centre, BrightMoon.

“Yeah, it worked alright.” Modulok scratched his two heads with his two left hands, “I just... I calculate that we’ve got about five minutes before either the ship burns up ooooor the all-mighty, all-powerful relic sword explodes and tears our atoms apart and flings them across the ten dimensions... maybe both, probably both.” Modulok shrugged his shoulders with a lifeless chuckle, which didn’t really comfort the perched Vultak on the walkway railing. Then again, what would possibly lighten the mood in that moment.

Hordak and Princess Entrapta managed to angle the station in a manner that it’d just nearly miss the planet, burn up in the atmosphere and use the momentum of the gravity to sling shot it into a surrounding moon. The space station was mentally linked to Horde Prime, everything was operated and controlled with his consciousness. With Prime dead, it put them into a difficult circumstance. Someone had to stay behind to make sure the ship stayed on course, someone mentally compatible with the Horde systems. Hordak was the logical choice, actually he was the only choice. He was the only High General present, meaning only he comprehended and was familiar with the warship systems. Hordak thought it was funny, She-Ra did finally kill him. A destiny fulfilled.

“Five minutes to live. That’s not a lot...” Mosquitor spoke up, giving off a an exhausted sigh. All six clones present in the room fell into tense and anxious silence. Fear and sadness blocked their throats, they weren’t used to talking, with their vocal cords, it was forbidden. Clones were only allowed to communicate telepathically and only communicate about their duties and objectives. Small talk wasn’t in the Horde dictionary. Ironically the only places where clones were able to talk and showcase their individualism was on the frontlines.

“Okay, so five minutes left of life... any last words?” Modulok asked shimming his rear to find a comfortable position to sit on the hard, cold walkway. A grated panelled pathway suspended at the centre of a deep chamber above a transparent force shield at the bottom. Which frames a view of heat and fire outside, melting and charring the metal outer casings of the ship.

“What’s there to talk about?” Despara quirked her brow at her brother’s question.

“Well, we’re clones, we don’t get this lucky. We’ve got five minutes to make up for all the decades of silence.” Modulok articulated.

To guide the warship most effectively Hordak had to observe the trajectory from a vantage point, that was where their paths diverged. Princess Entrapta protested, she held his hands in her own, massaged his knuckles with her thumbs. She raised herself up on her hair to face him eye to eye. She even gave him her signature smile, the one that melted his heart in a second. She had that look of possibility in her glistening crimson eyes, a spark of wonder and wanting that looked into multiple futures, hundreds of possibilities, a look that showed Hordak what he had to fight for, a world where that smile, those eyes and that laugh and that brilliant mind exist. A perfect world. He chose to make it, even if it was without him in it. He decided to do something his brother could never. A final gift to Entrapta, for all the trouble and confusion he caused her.

He gave her a kiss on her gloved hand, befitting for royalty, he gave her the best smile he could, and for the last time, he left her. Princess Entrapta would go on to cry for many days to come, but it was for the best. The greater good.

“Alright. I’m just gonna say it, food, not a fan. Too mushy. Has to go through your entire digestive system, which I didn’t even know existed until a few cycles back, and it has to come out th-” Modulok was cut off by Hordak, who previously was completely silent.

“You didn’t have to come with me.” He didn’t even look at them as he spoke, face down, staring at a small purple crystal in his hand, which he used to fugit with to ease his nerves.

“What are you talking about? We stay together. We’re defects.” Despara states to Hordak almost offended, all of them were through a lot, she felt offended that Hordak thought they’d abandon him now.

“We fought through war. We hold-ass across the universe. And we killed our god! Together!... Well, technically the blonde Valkyrie lady killed Prime, but still it’s the thought that counts.” Vultak shrugged, attempting to lighten the mood. Hordak rubbed circles on the purple crystal, looking down on it, his face reflected in it’s cracked surface. L-U-V-D. That’s what was etched on it. A fact. A reminder of her compassion. A wake up call. And he did wake up, from a dream world he believed all his life. A life of lies. From a hazy of toxic green to a reality of flaming red.

“I am your general. I stood at our brother’s side, you were mere soldiers, pawns. I deserve this pain, not you. You could’ve- you should have had normal lives.”

Mosquitor chuckled to himself, “Normal isn’t exactly in our dictionary.” The towering brute countered as he cradled the young hybrid in his arms, keeping Zed near his chest. As if it would make any difference when the fire broke through. “Also we’re not the kind of people the Etherians seem to want to deal with.” The statement made a wicked smile form on Hordak’s face. He enjoyed being in charge, being the one with the carrot on the stick. Having something of his own, something to his own name. They will always remember his name. Never forget. No one will ever forget.

“Then what do you think happens to our brothers? You think the Princesses kept their side of the bargain? You think their all off the ship, that they evacuated them?” Despara asked most likely imagining the worst, a possibility that there were some other poor clones still on board. That they were sacrificing lives that weren’t there own.

To quiet their minds, Hordak tiredly claimed, “No. They kept the promise. They’re honest people.” Hordak added that they had to, they were just like that, it was in their nature. Hordak knew their brothers were fine. BrightMoon had no court to try them, no holding cells and wouldn’t have enough to hold all of them for decades to come. And hopefully if Entrapta didn’t decide to hate him, she’d help them all and embrace them in her warmth. Dryl hadn’t had citizens for a decade or two, he was sure the clones wouldn’t be much of a downgrade. Add some life to the ghost town, so she doesn’t feel alone anymore.

“Yeah, well whatever they’re up to, it can’t be as bad as the predicament we’re in, heh.” Vultak flapped his winged arm around, a sharp gasp of pain escaped him as he moved his right around. No wonder either, it was bent forward, from the fight with Prime, literal minutes ago. It felt so victorious for just a moment, but life has a fun way of turning tables around.

“Plus, the Princesses, totally lame, right?” Modulok rolled his eyes as he attempted to stand up to get over to V and help his brother’s arm. But Vultak raised his left hand in protest, there was no need. It was going to be over soon. Modulok sat back down in defeat, amusement draining from his two faces. What good was a medic that couldn’t fix his fellow soldiers.

It was Mosquitor’s turn to brighten the situation, “Hah, yeah I bet they’re all clawing their ears out by now. Hehe, remember what those colour coded pansies moaned about all the time? Friendship? And rainbows? What a mucha losers, eh? Hehe... heh.”

“I remember.” Hordak stated. Never again. Never forget.

“Yea, losers.” Despara nodded.

“Losers.” Modulok and Vultak said at the same time.

“...Hmmmhehehahah- HA!” Modulok covered his face to hide his ugly laughter, forgetting about the other one expressing the same emotion.

“Mode, what the hell now?” Vultak asked, a smirk creeping up on him.

“Hehehehahahahhhh, ahhhhh man, w-heh-which one was the one that tried to hug Zed, heheheh and- and got burned. Oh lord. Oh Great Darkness. That face was priceless. HhhhhhhhHAHAHA!” The infectious mirth managed to wriggle out a small spasm out of Zed. His shoulders moving up and down, his nasal cavity wrinkling up in that cute way. Of course the young Zed contributed no sound of amusement as he was mute.

Despara shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t know. They all look the same to me.” The room shook violently, the pipes above rattled and metal panels fell off the walls and fell down through the force field below. Hordak’s realisation dawned on him, that he would be departing the mortal realm. Even thought there was an inferno forming beneath him, just outside that thin force field, even though he was surrounded by his clone brethren, his mind couldn’t help but wonder off to the thought of a certain Scientist Princess. His mind run wild with quite corny and laughable poetry, everything he wished he said to Entrapta. But didn’t.

He didn’t need her to devote her entire life to him. No. That’d be caging her. She deserved to be free, free to bend the universe to her will and bow before her beautiful intellect. He didn’t need her to lay her lips on him, she didn’t need to touch him. All he needed was just to see her smile, at him. Just for her to be with him, because that smile just for a moment saves him, just for a moment she makes him forget the endless pain he endured every day of his life. And every smile felt like an eternity of bliss. And so with just a look that woman could transport him into a perfect world, where he could live an eternity-long life.

But he didn’t say any of that to her. Hordak knew Entrapta wasn’t interested in long speechs, she had a short attention span, she was a woman of actions not words. That’s why before all this all Hordak gave Catra was a short note to give to Entrapta. He had her promise that she’d apologise to Entrapta, for all that she had done. Unfortunately, he made her apologise for the two of them. The note read ‘I’m sorry, and thank you. - Your ever loyal knight, Hordikins. Farewell My Queen.’ He could have gone on how there were no words in any dialect across the universe that could express how she made him feel, or that if she only asked he would have gifted her the universe. The note said everything it made to.

“Kinda sucks, all this. I only came on sentient a few hours ago.” Despara stated playing with her hair. The statement of dry humour pulled Hordak back from his day dream. “But I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet all of you. And... and be myself, even if it was short lived.” Despara finished. The words brought smiles to her fellow brothers, the past few Horde cycles were the craziest experiences of their lives, because they were experiencing life itself for the first time. They decided where their paths led. Especially Despara. She wasn’t always... herself. What was going to become Despara was clone DSP-772,411, whom was the detention guard overseeing Catra’s cell. ‘411 had never met an other lifeform other than clones. Dess was a servant clone. Never stepped outside the perimeter of The Velvet Glove. Her insight on the lay out of the ship came in useful to the defects in their infiltration to kill Prime. ‘411 always felt like they weren’t serving their cause properly, along side their dying brothers on the frontlines. Though not on the battlefield she risked her life every day. Prime had a tendency for violent mood swings. A dinner party for Prime’s guests could be more traumatising and devastative to a clones health than the trenches. Many clone have begged to be sent to the frontlines to escape the unspeakable horrors which occurred within the walls of the warship.

‘411 was immediately drawn to the captive Magicat. Catra spilled her heart, cried and whimpered, talked about an old flame of her’s, about how she hurt people close to her, about how the Princesses were “full of it” as she put it. And ‘411 listened to all of it. And at the end, when Catra’s tears dried up and she quieted down, all ‘411 could ask was, what a ‘she’ was. It must’ve shocked Catra, eyes wide in confusion and mouth drooping low in surprise. Hordak was there when she did, but he could’ve imagined the cat’s reaction, mostly because his first Force-Captains had the same reaction when he first asked that same question in his first years on Etheria. Captain Octavia had quite an interesting evening that day. He made her swear an oath of silence, to never speak of that embarrassing encounter.

Clones had no concept of sex or gender, things just were the way they were. As Prime intended them to be, perfect. The bodies and missions given to them by Prime were unquestionable. And it never was questioned, because none knew what other possibilities were out there. The alien armies of the Horde encountered were all different and unique, but there was no time or reason to study them. It wasn’t an objective. Prime did not care. Her brothers may have not fully understood, what Despara meant when she said she was always “this” deep down, but none argued, none protested against their new sister. She was a clone, a defect, one of them. She was a new experience. One of a kind. And as Vultak put it ever so elegantly, “Cool. I never had a sister before.”

It was ultimately her who let Catra out and helped her escape back to the Alliance. Hopefully she got that kiss she so desperately needed. Hordak met ‘411 only once before being sent off back to the frontlines, his return and the assault on the Velvet Glove, and briefly at that, on his way with a breakfast tray to Queen Glimmer’s guest room.

“Hey, hey, stop with that sappy stuff.” Mosquitor waved his hand dismissively, rolling his eyes. Moe, as his brothers called him, much like most clones including Hordak, wished to at all times seem tough. Poor MSQ-999,332 had it worse than most. He hide his defection for much longer than Hordak. The illness became so bad that eventually he could no longer use his own legs, his waist and legs lost all near all muscle mass. And so ‘332 became paralysed. He was just slowing down his platoon down, so his lower body was amputated. Of course the brother that rescued and brought Moe on board was executed for the crime of ‘Conferring with Inappropriate Machinery’. And Prime personally threw Moe out the airlock back down to the battlefield. ‘332 spent most of his days afterwards, crawling across mudded trenches. Luckily, Moe met on that some battlefield, MUD-111,117, or Modulok.

Nothing, but hatred and vengeance flew through his veins, it did for all of us. Mode managed to construct a life support system, for Moe, a walking hospital bed. Many parallels could’ve been made between it and Hordak’s own First Ones suit, created by Entrapta. Moe’s unit was twice the size of Hordak, it made him tower over even Prime, but the biggest difference was, Hordak’s suit was near indestructible, Moe on the other hand even if he had intimidation on his side the armour was more for life support than anything. Mosquitor faired better from a distance, ‘332 was an amazing snipper. The room shook more, sparks fling from wiring in the wall, the walkway holding them vibrated and shuttered. Moe took hold of Zed in his large arms, readying for the end.

The sight made Hordak thankful that Entrapta took Imp and got him to safety. The Lord of the Horde didn’t think he could’ve handled having to be forced to watch he’s own creation die... his little spy. He was safe, back on Etheria, in a loving home with a loving overseer. He only hoped that she’d teach Imp her ways, and hoped that one day Imp would grow into an intelligent man worthy enough to continue her legacy of brilliance.

Zed was the youngest of all the clones, although technically the creature wasn’t even a clone, but rather a hybrid. A prototype of the splicing initiative. A combination of Prime’s DNA and an unknown gene pool. The kid was an attempt at a creation of super soldiers, but failed. Poor kid always wanted to meet that other half of him. That other person that aided in bringing him into the world. This awful, awful world. Sadly, he never will, but he was the first to follow Hordak into the chamber. The boy did say back on the frontlines, that he’d jump into fire after him. And it was true. And to be more accurate, he didn’t say, he signed. All the defects learned the universal sign language. Zed might’ve been silent, but his voice wasn’t unheard.

He’s fate should have been a better one. He didn’t deserve this, he had a full life in front of him. Hordak never knew what drew Zed to him, why he asked so many questions, why he snuck out at night to see  him in the trenches. When Prime sent Hordak back to the frontlines, after his torturous reconditioning, he lost hope, but when he stepped out, or rather more accurately, when he was thrown out the troop dropship. Face first in a muddy trench dozens of defects thrown down with him. When he looked up from the dirt and filth, a slither of hope ignited in his belly, as a hand extended to him. Wonder in the boy’s eyes. He overheard Hordak’s mention of being trapped on other worlds.

”Hey, V you’re staring into the ceiling buddy. Talk to us.” Modulok snapped his fingers at his winged brother. Vultak didn’t turn to face him, mesmerised by the ceiling falling apart. V’s facial expression showcased a hypnotised look. As a combat aerial unit he always did look into the skies. But it probably had to do something with the impending doom below. ‘Don’t look down.’ Hordak remembered was the advise Vultak gave him when they leaped out onto the Velvet Glove from the dropship they stole, which exploded seconds later in the void of space as it filled with laser fire. VLT-441,441 was a paratrooper in the Horde military, until of course his defect began to show. He was always used to jumping into certain death, fearless in any mission. Vultak didn’t fear anything physical, nothing in the universe made him back down. But now, at the end he looked frightened, he couldn’t look down, do no more leaps of faith, for faith, he lost.

It’s true V feared nothing physical, because he had faith. He was a man of god. A believer. But what happens to a man when your god turns his back on you? Horde Prime knew defection was inevitable for many clones. No machine was perfect, especially no war machine. So Horde Prime infused prophecies and implanted messages into all clone subconscious, so that when defection occurs, all clones are compelled to return to him. Easier than hunting them down, easier to cover up the disgrace of his failures. Easier to hide his mistakes, he couldn’t afford to let those space fairing races above him mapping his progress to know about things like that. Couldn’t afford to let those higher than him know he was capable of mistakes. Perfection was expected of him. Those others above him, he tried to impress them, to have them take him in, show him enlightenment. He, all he wanted to do, was show he was worth their celestial time, he was worth something.

And now he’s nothing. He is now dead. Hordak found that he began to enjoy poetry and it’s irony more and more, in a twisted sort of way. Truly clones.

“Do you... Do you think there’s something out there for us? Up there, where ever?” The questions were deafening, everyone hoped Vultak wouldn’t have gone existential on them. But Vultak was the biggest patriot of them all, even surpassing Hordak’s obsession with their brother. And in turn he was the one most hurt by Prime’s betrayal. He was no god, no grand being, just a liar. Hundreds of thousands murdered... for him, because they believed their big brother. Hundreds of thousands, they murdered, for a lie.

“Do you think any of it was true? Do you think he believed any of it? Or was it ALL a lie?” Hordak answered V’s question in his mind, since never before was it a private place: Lie. “The Perfect World. The Grey Mound? The Hold Peck? The Great Darkness?” V grit his teeth, another wave of pain from his broken arm.

“Worried about being sent to the bad place, V?” Modulok asked, weak smile wearing.

“I’m just wondering. What’s waiting in the beyond for a guy like me. It can’t be anything good... if there even is anything up there.” Modulok decided to stand up and close the distance between him and his distraught brother. He leaned against the railing on which Vultak perched himself.

Mode gently touched V’s shoulder, it made sure V looked at him when he spoke. “I promise you, where ever you wake up on the other side, I’ll be there with you. And I’ll always fix you up after you jump into certain doom. Brother, you have my word.” It was true, the two were inseparable. Threw pure change the two met on the frontlines. While V had his head in the clouds, Mode grounded him, pulled him down to his level. Mode was a realist. He was bad at his bed side manner, he never lied to himself or his patients. He was a field medic, he saw things no one should, endured horrors unimaginable to the innocent. Modulok was the oldest to them, he was through a lot, fighting from world to world longer than any of them in Prime’s name. Over the many decades the spark of pride dulled, Mode found himself lost, fighting across the stars for a cause he no longer believed in.

Mode’s was haunting, even to other defects, whom experienced hardships and injustice. Modulok’s defection was the most dire Hordak ever seen, MUD-111,117 developed a second head, and two left arms. His genome could have been compaired to a computer glitch, untreated it just got worse. It was a miracle that Mode managed to make it to such an old age. Many species across the universe considered age to be a weakness, a disadvantage, but ‘117 always argued that with age came experience, and with experience came knowledge, which in turn led to wisdom. It was Mode who constructed Moe’s suit, led Dess’s surgery, gave V his wings and taught Zed sign language. A true veteran. He had been through it all.

But what Mode never helped Hordak with anything, ‘ 117 was a medic, he was compelled to fix others. But when Hordak first arrived at the fronts of Primus Minor, he isolated himself from everyone else, kept to himself. Hordak treated his own wounds, he worked on his armour alone. When he took the suit off, he was forced to walk on his own, no armour support system. And so he locked himself in an unused compartment of the trenches and over the course of six months, he learned how to walk. Baby steps to an adult man, who never had a childhood. Mode gathered from all of that, that Hordak was a loner. A solo act. Didn’t do well with people.

There came a day where Mode pulled Hordak off to the side and asked him why he worked through all the baggage alone? Why didn’t he ask for aid? Why did he ignore them? Hordak apologised that it seemed like he was avoiding them. And what Hordak said back in response stayed with the medic ‘til the end of his life.

“Mode... If there is good and evil.

And good is better than evil.

God has to be good... Right?”

“I suppose so.”

“So, are we good? Are we... like him?”

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s no such thing as good or evil.

But it’d be nice... to be good.”

“So, anybody got any idea how much time we’ve got left?” Despara asked looking at Modulok. Who just struggled in return, he didn’t exactly have a timer, he simply estimated the time remaining. “So that’s a no? We don’t kno- We can just blow up at any second?... Cool.” Dess combed her hair with her fingers to calm her nerves.

“You really think a timer would settle your nerves?” Moe asked unconvinced.

“I suppose not.” Dess admitted.

“I could’ve been with her.” Hordak spoke up suddenly in the middle of the conversation, honestly he was so quiet Despara forgot he was there, even though he was seated right next to her.

“What’d ya mean?”

“I could’ve saved myself... the First Ones crystal, it’s a server. To help me sync up with her new armour, Entrapta recorded my brain waves on the crystal. My memories, my thoughts, my personality, all of it... I could have given it to her when I last saw her.

But I didn’t.

I lied.

I left her.”

All five siblings turned their heads side to side take turns looking at each other and then back at Hordak. His face unmoved. Looking at the purple crystal. Zed stood up and broke free of Moe’s embrace. The young one stepped up to him. Hordak’s blood red eyes drifted up to the boy’s hands. He signed.

‘Why?’

“...Because it wouldn’t be me. Not me. A clone of me.”

The clones fell silent. Head bowing down. No more needed to be said. Every aspect of their lives had been thrown into question, into uncertainty. When the assault on The Velvet Glove happened, Hordak was leading the charge. Prime captured him and tortured him, he hurt him in front of Entrapta. He fell to his knees and crawled back to Prime, like he always did. But this time it was different, he stood up, he walked to him. Like a man, not a dog. Prime insulted and demeaned him. Prime claimed that Hordak wasn’t wasn’t a person. Clones were nothing, mere shadows of his greatness. The clones were him, just dirtier, unclean. A lesser version of what he was.

This was their stance against that. Showing that their lives meant something. That they were worth something. They were worth the world, for that was what they were saving. The scale balanced out.

The force field beneath them gave off a thunderous sound, a final warning. The bay shook one more time, the artificial gravity became disabled and the room began to tilt and shift. The metal walls crumbled like paper. The walkway began to swing and crack. Mode took V’s unbroken hand into his own. Moe embraced Zed in his arms one last time. Dess wrapped her arm around Hordak’s shoulder, and he inturn pressed his head against hers.

Modulok gave his last words in the form of a question, “...Do... Do you think... Could’ve we done something, could’ve we ended up with a happy ending, all of us? Could’ve we been good? Would it have make any difference?”

Hordak spent his last moments thinking, he didn’t realise he was thinking out loud, “Good? I think there’s no such thing as good?...

But it was nice...”

What ever this was. What it meant. What it was worth.

The force field imploded, gave in. The fire broke through. The Velvet Glove burned up in the atmosphere. And the clones were no more. And on that day all of Etheria cheered, and celebrated. For the evil was vanquished.

Ding-dong! The witches are dead.

[elleberquist6]

Believe in Me - chapter four

Summary: Dan Howell is living at home while he’s saving money for college, which isn’t easy since his parents don’t understand him. Unlike them, he loves dogs, is a vegetarian, has no interest in the family business, and he despises the supernatural. He struggles to accept things that are illogical, even though he is a kitsune. Kitsune are foxes whose powers involve the ability to cast illusions, but Dan just wants to be normal. Phil Lester has just moved to London, where he works as a dog walker. When his path crosses with Dan, Phil is eager to get to know him. Unfortunately, Phil soon finds that being friends with Dan is far more complicated than he could have imagined.

Rating: Mature Word Count: 1561 Warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut

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Kitsune fact: Kitsune are emotional and very vengeful. Kitsune will lose their temper at the slightest provocation. Once someone has earned a kitsune's enmity, the kitsune will begin enacting revenge that can become quite extreme. On the other hand, those who have earned a kitsune's trust and loyalty will see a friendship that can last through many trials. [https://littlespacefox.weebly.com/kitsune-mythology.html]

Phil really didn’t want to, but he waited a day before calling Dan. After attempting to kiss Dan without asking, he felt it best to at least follow one rule in the dating rulebook in an attempt to not come on too strong. Finally, he allowed himself permission to ring the number the next day.

A woman answered in a morose voice, saying, “Howell’s Funeral Home. This is Trudy Howell speaking. How may I help you today?”

“Hi, um, I’m calling for Dan?” The woman didn’t say anything, so Phil went on, “His cellphone is broken, so he told me that I could reach him at this number.”

“Of course. Sorry, no one ever talks to Dan, so I was surprised. One moment, let me get him.” Phil heard her place the phone on the desk, and he winced sympathetically for Dan. He would die of shame if his mother had said something like that to someone calling for him. He hoped that Dan’s mother wasn’t always like that.

A few moments later, Dan said in a breathy voice, “Hello? Is this Phil?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I was calling to see if you were still interested in seeing a movie.”

“Sure, what movie?”

“I’m dying to see Thor, but I don’t know anyone nerdy enough to accompany me. Can you think of someone?”

Dan laughed and then sighed dramatically. “I don’t know. I unfortunately might not be nerdy enough to enjoy the film. Oh, but could I please come with you to appreciate the beauty of Chris Hemsworth?”

Phil made a sound like he was debating it. “That should suffice.”

Phil returned home after the movie, feeling like he was glowing from spending time in Dan’s company. They hadn’t talked as much as they had on the first… he still wasn’t sure if it was a date, but they hadn’t talked as much and they had only touched on the shared armrest of the movie theater chairs. Still, it was great. They were both relaxing in each other’s company. Phil had never felt so comfortable with someone he had just met.

At the end of the night, Dan told him that he had replaced his cell phone and he gave Phil the number. Phil was lying in bed, debating if he would annoy Dan by texting him this late at night or if Dan was expecting a text. Phil shook his head, deciding to toss out the dating rulebook. He really liked Dan and he didn’t want to feel restricted by anything – he just wanted to fling himself into this exciting wave of emotions and enjoy the ride, not caring where he ended up.

Phil texted, I had so much fun tonight, thanks for coming with me :D

A response came from the number Dan had given him, who is this i don’t know you i'm calling the police and they are going to trace your number

What?? Dan, it’s me. This is Dan right? Phil texted back hastily.

yes, just messing with you, haha i had fun, too, thanks Dan replied.

You’re evil, I was really thinking some random person was calling the cops on me. My heart is racing.

sorry XD

Phil was quickly realizing that he would never be able to stay mad at Dan, no matter what he did. He sent a last text, Night Dan, sleep well.

you too :)

Phil placed his phone on the bedside table. His head was so full of thoughts of Dan that he started to set his alarm, but at the last moment he remembered that tomorrow was his day off and he could sleep in. He happily settled into his pillows, not intending to move from the spot until noon tomorrow.

“What is so interesting about you?” said a voice.

A voice in his apartment, which should be empty. One of Phil’s greatest fears was burglars. On his first day moving into his college dorm, he was informed that he was given a bedroom closest to the door since he was the tallest and would be expected to overpower anyone who broke into the dorm. Since that day, wherever he lived he couldn’t sleep without first checking that all the doors and windows were locked. He knew that he had done this tonight.

As Phil sat up with a scream, he saw the dark silhouette of a man in his bedroom and saw that his half-decade of preparation had come to this – a burglar was going to kill him. Phil grabbed a pillow off his bed and threw it at the man. He knew that he had aimed it well, but the man showed no reaction to being hit.

Phil scrambled out of his bed. He ran like the dogs of hell were chasing him and he made it to the bathroom, locking the door between him and the man. He patted the empty pockets of his pajamas, though he knew that his phone was on the nightstand in his bedroom. The burglar would probably take it, the tv, and Phil’s laptop, but Phil didn’t care as long as the man left.

Then, the world went mad. That’s the only way that Phil could describe the sight of a transparent man sliding through the solid wood of his bathroom door. The laws of Physics didn’t make sense anymore. The universe no longer had rules. This wasn’t rational.

Phil gaped at the man who shouldn’t be standing in the same room with him. The man wasn’t exactly solid. Phil could see the grain of the wood door behind him. Also, light and shadows didn’t seem to touch him in a way that was normal. Phil could make out the color of his clothes and his brown hair, but he seemed washed out, like a watercolor painting.

As Phil focused on the man’s face, his jaw dropped open further. The man looked like Dan, but wrong somehow. His jaw was firmer and more masculine. His wavy hair was cut shorter and slick with hair gel. There was something dark and mischievous in his eyes. He was like Dan, but nothing was right about him.

The transparent man shook his head, and it seemed like he had been assessing Phil as much as Phil had been him. “What does my brother see in you?”

“What? Who is your brother?” Phil couldn’t believe that he was talking to something that had just glided through his bathroom door – it seemed insane that things that glide through doors have families, even as he realized whose brother this must be. The man didn’t say anything, so Phil answered his own question. “You’re Dan’s brother. He told me about you.”

“Oh?” Dan’s brother’s interest focused on Phil, and the glint in his eyes made Phil realize that he did not want to attract this thing’s interest. It was like being spotted by a shark in the middle of an empty ocean. “What did he say about me?”

“Not… not much,” Phil stammered. “Just that you’re dead.”

The ghost laughed, and his laugh was nothing like Dan’s. It was deep and there was no mirth to it. Then the ghost shook his head, jaw gritted with unmistakable anger. “I’m not dead. He lied to you.”

“Do you see a light? You’re dead. Go to the light.”

The ghost stared at him in disbelief. “Are you trying to Ghost Whisper me?”

“Maybe.” Phil turned on the tap in his bathroom sink, filling it with a shallow pool of water. He mumbled a quick prayer over the water. In truth, he was trying to channel Buffy more than he was God, but he hoped that it worked just the same and that the water in his sink was now Holy Water. He turned back to the ghost. “You’re my friend’s dead brother, so I’m going to ask you nicely first – please leave my home. You’re not welcome here.”

The ghost glanced at the sink. “What was that you were doing with the water?”

Phil scooped up a handful of water and flung it at the ghost. The water splattered on the bathroom door while the ghost blinked at him. Then the ghost grinned. “I get why he likes you now. You’re a weirdo like him. Later.”

Phil exhaled in relief as the ghost drifted through the bathroom door, and hopefully out of the apartment. He drained the Holy Water from the sink, thinking that Buffy would be proud of him. Phil returned to his bedroom, which was thankfully empty, and he collapsed into his bed in exhaustion.

Phil woke up much earlier than he’d intended to wake the next day. He would have found it easier to forget last night if he hadn’t stepped into a puddle on his way into the bathroom – it was the water that he had thrown at the ghost.

Phil got dressed quickly. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but he knew that he had to talk to Dan.  

[theclaravoyant]

Oh! Oh a prompt! Fitzskimmons fic featuring FitzSimmons patching up an upset daisy after pulling her out of the gladiator arena and telling her that even though they want to get married it doesn’t take her out of the equation!

AN ~ Thanks for the prompt! If you haven’t read my other 5x06 FitzSkimmons UA coda I suggest you read that too, but I also decided to run with this prompt a little bit; it turned into FitzSkimmons + a discussion about marriage (the first bit is set at an undisclosed time, but there’s some 5x06 thrown in too). Fluffy :D though some super mild references to injury. Hope you like it!

Read on AO3 (~1300wd)

-

“Okay, you guys, no offense but if either one of you gets any ideas to propose without at least a full minute of choreography, the answer’s no.” Beaming, Daisy held her phone up above all their heads and they watched the end of another Big Ask video. “Although – writing your own lyrics is optional.”

“Good, because I don’t – I don’t think I’d be very good at that,” Fitz remarked. Daisy and Jemma snorted in unison and Daisy dropped her phone back to her chest to turn her head, facing him as best she could as the three of them lay together.

“Pfft,” she scoffed. “Please, you can’t help it. You could write a whole song from scratch with your eyes closed. If you actually knew anything about music. Unless, I mean – do you?”

“No?? I was a bit busy getting my PhD by the age of fifteen thank you very much,” Fitz retorted defensively. “But I also don’t think I’d like one of those big, flashy, public proposals. It’s too much pressure. I’d go for something classic; a nice dinner, a walk somewhere private, that sort of thing.”

“Ring in the champagne?”

“Oh, Lord no.” Jemma screwed up her nose. “Rings are nasty with germs and dead skin cells and things. I certainly wouldn’t be drinking that glass.”

“No, well, but hopefully you wouldn’t be drinking it because you’re so totally flawed by my amazing idea,” Fitz objected. “Stop making me think of dead skin while I’m trying to propose.”

“I quite like the flashy proposal, myself,” Jemma continued without heed to his squeamishness. “I mean, I don’t believe it should be the first conversation about marriage a relationship should have, but if you’re on the same page with things then you should essentially have the yes before you do the dance anyway. Then the dance itself, you make it special, individual, you put a lot of effort in. And you announce to the world that this is your person, your people. And after all, isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

“Mmm.” Daisy hummed, and it sounded hesitant. Fitz and Jemma frowned.

“You don’t like marriage?” Fitz guessed.

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” Daisy replied. “I mean… I like the idea of it. I like what Jem just said about commitment and all that. I just – I don’t know, marriage. It’s a lot, you know? A wedding sounds like fun. Marriage sounds like…”

“A bargain struck between men to move their women around like chattel?” Jemma put in.

“Sort of, I guess, yeah.” Daisy squirmed. “I mean that’s where it comes from but that’s not really it. I guess I’d feel trapped? Not trapped. Uh. I don’t know how to big-words-ify it.”

“Intellectualise,” Jemma corrected.

“Yeah. That.”

“I’ll take a stab,” Fitz offered. “You grew up surrounded by dysfunctional families in a messed up system based on formalized definitions and their failures. Basing ideas like love and connection on the same kind of system feels disconnected, if not downright scary. Plus, marriage is a heteropatriarchal amatonormative monogamous institution and you’re a bi poly anarchist down to your bones.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Daisy snorted. “Plus, I mean, isn’t that what lots of people say? ‘I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me I’m in love with you’?”

“I’d quite like one,” Jemma disagreed. “I’d hang it in my office so that everyone would know.”

“Although, Jemma Fitz-Simmons-Johnson is going to need a pretty big nameplate,” Fitz pointed out.

“Who says that’d be my name?”

“Well you’re hardly going to take mine, are you? But you wouldn’t make me or Daisy take yours without it being equal, so…”

“Hang on a sec guys,” Daisy interrupted, “I just wanna be clear, just... just in case. I don’t want to get married. You can, if you want, I’m not sure how that works, but – for serious, I don’t want it for myself, okay?”

“Okay,” Fitz and Jemma both agreed, and shuffled closer to Daisy in case she was feeling uncomfortable. She was, to be honest, but she quickly shook it off.

"Now, back to planning FitzSimmons’ Big Day.” She held up her phone again and started googling. “Now, would the happy couple prefer a horse and carriage, or a hot air balloon ride?”

-

Despite their brush with sincerity, the conversation about proposals and marriage was, in all honesty, one born of abstraction and jokes. It wasn’t for some time afterward that any of them put any wheels into motion, and as it turned out, none of those wheels ended up worth a damn anyway. In the end, every carefully parsed decision flew out the window of a diner 74 years in the past. In the end, the words just slipped out.

“Marry me, Fitz.”

Jemma's heart was beating hard, her head spinning. Fitz’s arms held her up, flush against him on the tiny little box, and even though they were in the middle of running for their lives, Jemma couldn’t help but feel safe. She lavished the feeling of him warm and solid and heroic and here. And him. It felt like months since she’d seen his face, his real face, and since he’d held her in his arms. He’d been so shaken, last she’d seen him, it was nice to see the colour in his cheeks again, and his chin held high. Yet, she knew how quickly it could all be ripped away and maybe that’s why they slipped out.

Marry me.

And all he said was, Absolutely. With such conviction it was as if his life’s singular purpose had led him to this moment. As if he was completely prepared to stare into his lover’s eyes in an alien gladiator ring in the ruins of Earth, decades beyond their deaths and the end of the world, and promise her his everything. Of course, he shortly began insisting that he had been preparing for exactly that and had in fact beaten her to the proposal in the first place. Even as they carried Daisy out of the arena as best they could, they were already bickering – like, one might say, an old married couple.

Jemma led them to a vacant room and began rummaging about for medical supplies, and Fitz help a slightly delirious Daisy down onto the bed. He sat beside her and stroked her hair out of her face, and out of a bloody cut on her forehead.

“Don’t mind me,” Daisy grumbled, albeit with a fond smile. “Casually dying over here, but it’s fine.”

“Sorry,” Fitz apologised earnestly. “You know Jemma. Emotional, that one. Well known for grand gestures and getting caught up in the moment.”

Daisy snorted. Fitz’s eyes glistened with tears of joy as he snuck another glance over to where Jemma was working, sterilizing something. He’d never imagined she’d be the one to pull him in by the lapels for a kiss, in the middle of a gunfight. It made his cheeks feel hot just thinking about it.

“You’re really gonna do it, huh?” Daisy wondered, prodding him with a poorly aimed finger. His eyes dropped back down to her. “Marry Jemma.”

“Absolutely,” he said again. “And you know, I would you as well, if it’s something you wanted. I mean – unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“Yes, of course we wouldn’t want to leave you out, Daisy,” Jemma assured her, bringing the tray of supplies over. “Sit up? Fitz, fix her pillows, thank you. But if we were operating on old assumptions, then, I apologise. I haven’t a song and dance prepared.”

Daisy chuckled. “’S’ okay. Talking like an old-timey princess is enough for me. You’re cute when you’re being funny.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Jemma agreed with a smile, and shone a light into Daisy’s eyes. She pressed her lips together. “And you’re a surprisingly good patient when you’re concussed.”

Daisy made an expression that suggested – in her head at least – she was giving a nonchalant shrug. “Consider it a wedding present.”

“So you won’t be joining us, then?” Jemma checked, running her hands over Daisy’s limbs with practiced ease.

“Oh, yes I will.”

Jemma frowned, and looked at Fitz. He frowned back. Perhaps they should wait for Daisy to sober up before they made sense of this conversation. Then again, Daisy laughed, apparently entertained by their confusion.

“Come on!” she cried. “Dope dresses and cake tastings?! I’m an anarchist, ‘n my head hurts, but I’m not a rock. Do I not bleed?”

Jemma grimaced. “Yes, you certainly do. And you break bones, so you’re lucky you didn’t shatter both your tibias just now.”“You don’t have to tell me.” Daisy grimaced, and sighed heavily, leaning back into the pillows. Fitz squeezed her hand and she lamented - “But damn, it looked wicked for a second there, didn’t it?”

[dolfinsatdawn]

While I wait patiently for hurricane Irma to barge in on FL next week, I might as well do this question-y thing that my fellow Turn fan tagged me in! Might be stuff you were always curious about OR alternatively stuff you couldn't care less about, but hey. Here it is.

Thanks for the fun @greenofallshades​

  I think there's supposed to be 100 questions. I started numbering them, but because I'm spacy I totally forgot to do the rest. So, here you go.

I'm tagging: @lou-who, @dying-suffering-french-stalkers, and anyone else who wants to do this (because my computer is glitching when I try to tag).

1. The meaning behind my url:  dolfinsatdawn. This was me trying to upgrade to something more artsy sounding but still had something from my childhood obsession with dolphins it.

2. A picture of me: EHHHHHH. I'm kinda squeamish about this. If ya'll really REALY want to see a picture maybe I will.

3. How many tattoos i have and what they are:  Lol I don't do the whole "permanent on your skin" stuff. I do love henna tattoos though. Anything semi-permanent is super fun.

4. Last time i cried and why: I cried when I found out my grandpa was in the hospital last week. He's okay though. I'm going to visit him soon.

5, Favorite band:  THE BEATLES. Hands down. I also like a lot of classical and film scores so, the only real band I love 100% is the Beatles.

6. Biggest turn offs:  Not respecting my personal space. It takes me a REALLY long time to get used to people (especially boys), so touching without my permission is really upsetting and people who do are immediately on my NOPE list. Also, men who constantly talk about money. I REALLY hate that. I don't care how much you make compared to everyone else.

7. Top 5 (insert subject): Top five places I want to travel to next!  1. Tokyo!  2. Washington State  3. Germany!!! 4. China!  5. Nepal!

8. Favorite place to be alone? I love doing everything alone. I'm so happy to go out and just chill without the stress of other people. I love going on walks alone especially in really pretty places like beaches.

9. Biggest turn ons: umm....I dunno sense of humor? Kind eyes....Classy clothes are a MUST.

 10. Age: old enough to drink even though I don't

11. Ideas of a perfect date: One where my date doesn't "forget his wallet in his car" and make me pay for dinner before driving me home without paying me back for his half. (I'm not bitter about this dude AT ALL.)

12. Life goal: Publish my book series so there's something for people to remember me by.

13. Piercings i want: None really. I throw around getting my ears done, but I'm not really into punching holes in my skin.

14. Relationship status: SUPER SINGLE and livin it up.

15. Favorite movie: . UGH dude this is so hard. There's three main ones I watch whenever and I always love them: Pride and Prejudice 2005, Howl's Moving Castle, and Austenland!

 16. A fact about my life:  I've spent 13 years in the same house and I'm totally okay with that. (Yes I commuted to college from home and no I didn't regret it AT ALL.)

17. Phobia:  Spiders. Terrible fear of spiders. I'm also afraid of the dark a little bit and tornados.

.18. Height: 5'2"

19. Are you a virgin?  Heck yea! And proud of it! 

20. What is your shoe size?  4-5 depending on who makes them.

21. What’s your sexual orientation?  straight

22. Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?   Nope. I don't like alcohol and I'd prefer not to kill my brain cells I'll need those for grad school.

23. Someone you miss: My grandma. She was the most fun person and I could call her any time and we'd talk for hours. She died in February and I miss her all the time.

24. What’s one thing you regret?  I regret how judgemental I was in high-school. It caused a lot of problems with my best friend. We're okay now, and I've apologized, but it caused a lot of wasted stress and fights we didn't need to have.

25. First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive:  J.J. Field

26. Favorite ice cream?  CAKE BATTER!

27. One insecurity: Body image. I used to be very athletic and I miss that a lot. I feel really gross and lazy. I also stress eat a LOT.

28. What my last text message says:  To me - I finally found a Publix that has water.  From me - How am I like your dad?!

29. What's the most creative thing you've done recently: I decorated the house for fall!

30. What's the last song you listened to? Six Weeks by Of Monsters And Men

31. What do your favorite Pj's look like? I have a shirt that says "my cat doesn't like you" that I wear whenever we have guests over.

Have you ever stole money from a friend?  no.

Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met?  Lol nope!

Have you ever been in a fist fight?  I punched my brother a few times, but like...we weren't fighting.

Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?  Yeah he had a girlfriend.

Have you ever been arrested?  No

Have you ever made out with a stranger?  Ew no

Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?  Yes I loved doing this at my grandma's house.

Have you ever been lonely?  HA. Who hasn't...?

Have you ever been to a club?  I went to a boat party once (I hated it) and they played that weird club music so that's the closest I've ever been to a club. I go to sports bars all the time for wings though.

 Have you ever felt an earthquake?  Nope you don't get those down here in FL really.

Have you ever touched a snake?  I LOVE SNAKES. They feel so fun. Snakes need love all the time.

Have you ever ran a red light?  Yes. It was 2 am. I was coming home from a theater show I was in. (They kept me late painting sets) and I turned left on red without stopping because I didn't even register that the light was red until I had already done it.

Have you ever been in a car accident?   Yes. They totaled my car. Scariest thing ever.

 Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?  Yah

Have you ever sang karaoke?  I think I did, but not in front of people. My grandparents had a Karaoke machine that my cousins and I all played with.

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?   Yah like continuing to eat Mcdonalds at 2am when my brother comes home lol.

Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?  No! XD I've seen someone else do it though.

Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?  nope.

Have you ever dream that you married someone? Nope. I don't usually have love-related dreams.

Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flag pole?  No, but I got it stuck to an icicle that I licked once.

Have you ever ever gone to school partially naked?  I was homeschooled so I worked in my PJ's a lot.

Have you ever brushed your teeth?   ???? do people NOT brush their teeth????

Have you ever ever too scared to watch scary movies alone?  yeah I couldn't watch Black Mirror alone. Otherwise I don't watch scary movies.

Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?  Naw. I might be tiny, but I fight hard. People know better.

Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?  nope

Have you ever broken a bone?  I smashed my finger playing softball once.

Have you ever been easily amused?  I mean yeh. I watched youtube videos of people organizing stuff once for HOURS. D:

Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?  Alll the time

Have you ever mooned/flashed someone? no.

Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?   Literally all the time. I suck at names.

Have you ever give us one thing about you that no one knows? Uh...no? Idk I think at least someone knows everything about me.

What was your last dream?   I had pants that changed colors but never matched the outfit I had on. (It was the first dream in a week that wasn't an awful nightmare so I was thrilled!)

Would you be up for interplanetary travel if it was a thing?  YES YES YES. SEND ME TO SPACE! Its like being in the age of sail all over! Adventure! new planets! LET ME GO!

If you could travel back in time, where would you go?  18th century or Victorian era.

Do you prefer tech or real books for reading?   Books!!!

Do you dread doctor visits or do they not bother you?   I think they're a waste of time, but I'm not afraid of doctors.

Favorite fashion decade of the twentieth century? 1910's or 1920's. Edwardian (Titanic clothes) or Flapper (Gatsby).

Are you wearing nail polish and if so, what color?   YES I'm wearing the Northern Lights OPI color from the new Iclandic line. I LOVE nail polish.

 Are you into working out or no?  Yes, but it has to be fun. I hate machines and gyms. Dance is much more my style.

Do you have a temper?   Doesn't everyone? Mine's really buried though so you really gotta mess up and push me to get it to come out. I don't have the energy to be angry about a lot of stuff.

Do you have one item you treat yosef with, and if so, what is it?   SUGAR SCRUBS

Do you eat meat?  YEA I basically live at Chickfila.

If yes, how do you like it cooked?  Depends on the meat. Steak Med-Rare and chicken usually grilled well (no thank you to salmonella).

Ever had a boss or a teacher you absolutely hated?  HA basically every professor at my school who gets political. I'm sorry I took a literature class not a political science. You can critique the world later. Please teach what I paid for.

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?  Tea!

Do you wear makeup?  Yes, especially when I go to work.

If you wear perfume, what’s your scent type/favorite fragrance?  I wear the cashmere perfume from bath and body works. I don't really like high end perfumes they make my throat hurt.

Do you have a girl crush?  nah

Candles, wax melts, or incense?  Candles. I love their little flames. It reminds me of fall/Christmas.

Favorite season of the year?  FALLLLLLLLLLL

Fanfic—do you prefer smut or fluff?   Fluff. Not into smut really at all.

Do you like taking selfies?  Why or why not?   I hate taking selfies. However, when you travel alone and you want photos of yourself you gotta suck it up.

Do you want children?   Eventually, but that means wanting a husband and meh - i'll wait.

Do you prefer lots of friends or just a few good friends?  Definitely just a few. People stress me out.

Introvert or extrovert, or mixture of both?  Raging introvert.

Ocean/beach or mountains?  BOTH?!!?! Beach because it doesn't give me altitude sickness, but I love the mountains anyway.

Morning person or night person?  Night owl 10/10.

Do you initiate conversations with strangers?  not if I can help it.

Milk or dark chocolate?  Dark

What do you post on your blog?   Star wars...historical romance gifs...artwork sometimes...random other aesthetic stuff and cute things!

Is it hard for you to apologize when you’re in the wrong?   Yah I kinda have a pride thing that is hard to get past. I do apologize though. The person won't know you're sorry unless you say it.

Love at first sight?  nope.

Best/funniest Halloween memory?  This one year my best friend and I went as spies and everyone thought we were the blues brothers. It was hilarious because my friend had no idea who the blues brothers were and it got to the point where we both just said YES when people asked because it was too exhausting to say otherwise.  

Did your first crush work out or was it unrequited?  Unrequited

Do you like old movies—and by old, I mean OLD old?  I watched a silent version of Phantom of the Opera that was cool once, but usually those movies are a bit slow for me.

Do you tan or burn?  Both, but right now I'm tanning.

Do you think people deserve second chances?  Depends on what they did. Cheating? Not a chance.

What animal would be cutest if scaled down to the size of a cat?  ELEPHANT!!! Imainge the tiny round feets and the little trunk!!!!!!

Do you have any weird food likes/dislikes?  I hate lots of foods. and I hate any food if there's too much of it.

.What’s the funniest real person’s name you’ve ever heard?   (I don't want to use his real real name, but the last name is real)  Harry Dingledien.

[tekowolfsbane]

Tale of a Murderor

Chapter 1 - Fresh Meat Darkness falls over a desert land; with skulls and dehydration filling the bottom of the cup, it is then topped with skin piercing sand. As one fateful night a mysterious conversation fills the echoing corridors of a tall stone building, that has stood for decades slowly degrading as many travel by. A slender women puffed her cigarette dunking and darkening the room, she sat dominantly in her high chair as it towered over a short stubby man while he gave his proposal to the lady. "I can't let this happen!" The Short man demanded. "If this is why you have brought me here then I will leave immediately!" "Well aren't you quick to jump to conclusions?" The women smirked sucking her life away. "All I need is a few months and I assure you he will change..." "What makes you think this murderer will change after he's employed to do exactly what he was imprisoned for!?" He yelled as she smiled creating more vapors curling around her body. "This isn't your average Company...He will get quite the surprise when he gets here" A wicked grin spreads right up to ears as the smoke escapes her lips. "Bring him along he has 3 months and if you fear he hasn't changed you can take him back, but this is much more worse than prison...." 500 miles away from the institute is the most secure prison in America; with walls stretching over 10 foot, with many attempts leaving cracks and some scratches since it was built back in the 1900's, Not one criminal has escaped and for good reason. The jail is full of the worst inmates in the world, some even not based in America; they have flown from all over the world and put in the tightest of rooms and people, all of them big muscular and frankly scary. One day this slammer got some fresh meat. Four Men stood in line as the Governor checked them all out; first in line was Bones, he was a big lad with muscles complementing his shirt, tattoo's and scars covering his upper body and his tiny legs barely lifting his weight. Next was Rocky he was your typical sized man regular height, weight and tone and finally Savage he didn't seem to look like he knew a lot or speak for that matter but he was slightly beefed up but not as much as Bones, Oh I forgotten one...There was a lot of difference between the three with this guy he was tiny, in fact in between them he was barely visible cramped between Savage and Bones, this little one's clothes looked like it was draped over him, they were so baggy he had to roll up his sleeves and tuck his trousers in his socks, his sneakers looked stolen in fact it all was probably stolen and his dog tags just poking out from the white shirt underneath. The heat was sweltering making it hard to breath, the sweat from the two big guys helping the runt; with it running to his wrists making them slip out, a huge grin was on his face as the Governor drew close. "STAND STRAIGHT FAGGOTS!" The officer instructed. "Bones, convicted for theft and before arrest smashing 5 officers ribs and bones...Don't think we won't just kill you if you act out of line" Bones snarled as the governor walked past unfazed. "Rocky, responsible for being able to crack concrete and aiding in the theft" Rocky smirks as he breaks a large rock in his hands....the chief not moved. "Savage, jailed for explicit uses of dynamite and fierce attacks on officers" Savage glared trying to intimidate him but the head just snuffed at him. "And finally D-...E-Erm Deo?" "Yo wha'sup?" Deo smirked as the Governor stood before him. "DON'T TALK TO TH-" Shouted the Officer beside him as he got cut off with a raised hand. "Are you sure your in the right place?" He asked Deo slightly bending down to his level. "You tell me?" Chuckled Deo as he smugly rocked back and forth in front of both of them. "STAND STRAIGHT I SAID!!!" The officer demanded. "Whoops sorry pal" Deo giggled. "I guess I shouldn't be so bold yeah?" "What are you smug about boy? A simple beating will wipe that look off your face" The Governor explained as the officers readied there batons. "OH PLEASE NOT THAT!" Deo sarcastically pleaded. "JUST SLAP MY WRISTS AND SEND ME TO A CORNER!" He fell to the floor exposing his unchained wrists to the Chief. "How did you!?" The Head exclaimed as Deo's wrists were quickly bonded. "Maybe you shouldn't expect big bald guys coming into your prison ey Chiefy?" Deo laughed as his hands were rapidly shackled. "You address me as Governor, Nothing else you hear me!?" Yelled the Chief spitting in Deo's Face. "Nice Slobber you got there" Deo smiled. "Maybe I'm not in the right place? But who knows there was only evidence of me with a gun nothing ELSE!" Deo Raged as he was smacked across the face with a baton. "YOU NEED TO LEARN SOME MANNERS BOY!!" Exclaimed the Governor. "I WOULDN'T BE SURPRISED IF YOU WEREN'T BEATEN TO DEATH THE FIRST NIGHT!!" The Head of the institute left in a rage as he was humiliated by a infant; he struggled on his feet as they were dragged along by the guards to get moved into there cells, he barely was able to stand when they got shoved in the holding rooms. Each criminal was taking into a separate area and questioned for general details; Where they live, Any Relatives and what they were convicted for. This was simple for the others but with one prisoner it caused a lot of distress for him and the officer that was interrogating him; he was in the room for well over 5 minutes, not saying a word and refusing to cooperate. It came past 20 minutes and the convicts outside were  waiting on him and getting very impatient. "I'll ask you again and if you don't say it this time we'll have to use force" The Guard sighed in frustration. "Where are you from?" "Why don't you beat it outta' me" Deo scuffed rocking in his chair. "WE'VE BEEN AT THIS FOR 20 MINUTES!! TELL ME OR ELSE!!" The Guard yelled with all his force throwing his chair to the floor. "If you say 'or what' you will be shot where you sit!" With a big sigh and rolling his eyes he stopped rocking on his chair and sat forward with his hands clumped in a fist, he looked directly into the cops eyes and spoke with great sympathy. "Boston....Massachusetts" Deo sighed looking to the floor. "34 Terrace St, You happy now!?" "That weren't hard now was it big Baby?" Snarked the Guard while writing the information down. "Any Family or Relatives?" "I DON'T NEED TO TELL SHIT ABOUT THAT OKAY!!!" Deo lunged towards him but held back by a officer behind him. "WHY DON'T YOU FUCKING LOOK IT UP!? I'M NOT SAYING SHIT ABOUT MY FAMILY! I'M FUCKING INNOCENT YOU HEAR ME!? I DIDN'T DO FUCK ALL TO THAT WOMEN!" "Calm down..So no relatives?" Cautioned the Guard as reinforcements were going to be called in any minute. "DIDN'T I SAY FAMILY!!! I HAD ONE A'RIGHT! A FUCKING GOOD ONE...." Deo slumped back in his chair. "A real good one...but then she...she died..." He was practically on the floor as his life was presented on a board to the guard; all about his father leaving him at the age of 8, breaking his mothers heart causing her depression and then finding out the news she was addicted to pills and at the age of nine coming back from school she had overdosed herself and she lay lifeless in the tub not knowing what could happen he was on the streets for 10 years and in a gang got him in the mess he is now. The Interrogate sat there in shock as the once arrogant kid were melting in the chair before him, tears running down his now deformed face from the excessive droplets coming from the eyes of a crook. "M-Maybe I'll get details off the governor about your arrest? If your not feeling up to it?" Gulped the guard as he reduced a kid to a puddle. "Yeah...." Sniffed Deo as he whipped memories from his face. "They won't be any hold-up's either next time..." Everything seemed to skip Deo that day from the many questions he was asked by several officers, being searched and being given his prison uniform, the bundle of blankets, cups and plates, then getting seen by the doctor which didn't take long as he was in fine shape and finally being shoved into a cell with the 3 he met today; These three were a gang for sure, all from Boston and all looked like they knew nothing but to cause trouble. Bones was stood at the back dominating the room with his strength, Rocky carving into a stone like it was bread and Savage grumbling on the bench to himself...Deo just sat beside him and with a little growl from Savage he just shrugged it off and leaned on the wall putting both feet onto it. "So your the runt who took on the Governor?" Bones spoke in his american accent. "Yeah what of it!?" Deo spat still pissed after the interview. "Nothing man, takes guts to do that, me and Bones give you props to that" Rocky smiled stopping his sculpting in the process pointing at Bones. "Yeah well I don't fucking deserve to be here" Deo puffed in anger. "Ha none of us do, But who'll believe us?" Rocky chuckled continuing with his model. "They had no fucking proof with me! All I did was had a gun in my hand at the scene...THAT'S IT!" Deo fumed. "That's all they need....Especially with a baby like you" Bones joked. "Did you just call me a Baby?" Deo looked at bones with fury. "I did, I heard you crying" Bones laughed as Deo stood with dominance near him. "What are you going to do about it?" "THIS!!" Deo violently said leaping onto his opponent swinging around his neck, the brute underneath him tried grasping the twig on his shoulders, but because it was only a stick it was impossible to lay a punch into the twerp, The runt on his back were grabbing his bulky neck trying to choke his foe; since his hands were doing nothing he ripped off his dog tags and latched them around his throat the only thing saving the opposer were the one thumb separating the chain from his nape. Rocky and Savage stood there seeing who would kill the other and become there leader, at first they thought the kid would have perished a few minutes back but the fight was getting intense, But there fun was soon drawn to a close when guards flown from every angle separating the two and putting them in different cells.

***************************AUTHORS NOTES*****************************

Before publishing any more chapters I will only post this chapter on Tumblr until I get more people wanting more... If you would like to follow more of this story you will find it in my gallery on DA: http://furryfluke.deviantart.com/gallery/ On another note I apologise in the future for my bad German writing I noticed after learning some of the language that it’s shocking but I may change it in the future once I learn more thank you and enjoy

[torentialtribute]

Hard to warm to VAR’s cold and clinical offside calls

References are baffled. How can fans not like VAR if it makes the right decisions? Well, that's the problem. Football has never worked on offside to the nearest millimeter. It has worked on looking and especially feeling. What feels good, what feels good – and not this super accuracy.

So although Mark Clattenburg is absolutely correct to say that offside is so much a black and white issue as the ball crossing the line – you are on or off, on or off – that was not how the game got earlier played or observed.

VAR was intended to correct obvious and obvious errors and in the case of offside, fans believed that this meant cases of obvious infringement, with some daylight missing between attacker and last defender by the linesman.

It seems terrible that the goal of Raheem Sterling was excluded by an inch for offside

Yet clear and obvious does not apply to offside, because references explain that it is unconditional. So players are now being sidelined who were previously classified as a level. And level was a myth. There is no such thing as level if we slow down the action frame by frame, because a player always has a part of his body fractionally in front of the opponent. Nevertheless, level was an important part of our reasoning about football.

If players were largely in line, it was considered legal. In fact, it was considered fair because it then introduced the idea of ​​benefit of doubt to the attacking party, and who doesn't want that?

So when Raheem is Sterling, by our now obsolete concept of fair play, level, it seems terrible that an unseen, unheard of official calculates that, yes, his shoulder is an inch ahead and illegal.

Yet that is what technology was always going to achieve as soon as motion could be measured perfectly degrees. Level was doomed. Think of horse racing. Consider the hundreds of races that take place every day in Great Britain. Now multiply that all over the world. Consider how many races there are more than a decade.

In the UK alone, there have been around 100,000 races in the last 10 years. Expand this worldwide and there have probably been a million horse races since August 2009, possibly more. And how many dead heats, races in which two horses cannot be separated and really considered to be a level, have there been?

The webpage dedicated to the subject lists 13. There are probably some missing. It probably only describes races that were remarkable and reported, not a single bumper at Hereford in 2014.

Nevertheless, the level, relative to the number of events, is not so frequent that it can even be called unusual. We are talking about Halley's comet. And this is the consciousness in which football was invested, in which the concept of justice was based. That players are regularly equal. They are not.

But it will still take some adjustment to consider our hyperclinical reality justice.

Technology would do this, but it's hard to warm up for the cold and clinical offside calls from VAR

WORKING ON SHOOT! WAS A FUN FROM THE PAST …

It's been 50 years old this Friday since Shoot! magazine was published for the first time. By the time it shifted online, there were 1,717 publications. I wrote for a few of them. When I started at Hayters Sports Agency in 1983, Shoot! was a regular commission.

They chose a topic and we would get as many people in football as we could to discuss it. We were all children at Hayters. We didn't know many famous football players. So there was a book with office contacts in which we would pool our numbers. And football people were generous with them in those days.

You could literally call Kenny Dalglish at home – no cell phones – and ask if he wanted to earn $ 25 to write a one-off column for a regional newspaper. He did that too. These were different times. The problem with the common contact book was of course that every new journalist was seized and exhausted by every young journalist in the room.

So someone would pick up Mark Lawrenson's song because Liverpool had played Rangers in Queens Park, and in the following week he would get three Shoot! features, an FA Cup preview for the Crystal Palace program and two columns in the Hemel Hempstead Post.

This misguided eagerness led to a conversation with snooker impresario Barry Hearn who, when he heard who was on the line, started: & # 39; Van Hayters? You know, son, I had never heard of Hayters last week. Now every time I pick up the phone, it fucks Hayters. & # 39;

Suffice it to say, readers of Shoot! magazine remained unaffected if Barry thought that additional television broadcast would harm football.

WHY LUKAKU THE TOP-SIX TEST FAILS

The first goal that Anthony Martial scored for Manchester United was against Liverpool. The introduction of Marcus Rashford in the home game was marked by two against Arsenal. Both have scored against every other member of what is called the Big Six – Manchester City, Tottenham, Liverpool, Arsenal and Chelsea.

Martial has three against Chelsea, two against Liverpool and Arsenal and one against Tottenham and City; Rashford has three against Chelsea, two against Arsenal, City and Liverpool and one against Tottenham.

Goals in the biggest games determine the world class striker. Romelu Lukaku scored once against elite domestic opposition in two years at United. He scored four in a friendly game against Serie D in his first game for Inter Milan; but then he would do it, wouldn't he?

Romelu Lukaku didn't score close to enough big-game goals … but he got four against Serie D-side

A break from tradition for football Competition with second round of Carabao Cup tonight, they're going to have it on a soccer field.

REMOVED FOR SENDING A TEXT? HOW DARE THEY …

Now, not only those who have paid to get into it stadiums are often the least aware of the most important events of the match, they run the risk of being expelled to become orpen when they try to find out.

Daniel Mawer, a Hull fan who attended the lecture on Saturday with Reading, SMS & # 39; te pals about the competition as it unfolded. some of them. It is the modern world. Usually, he says, he discussed Tom Eaves' new hairstyle with his girlfriend. Sounds a classic, match and hairstyle.

Anyway, during the rest, he was confronted with security that almost accused him of sending information for gambling purposes. Mawer was threatened with expulsion from the ground – a somewhat counterproductive movement seen Hull was viewed by the third lowest league rise since moving to KCOM Stadium in 2002.

A fan sms & # 39; about the new hair of Tom Eaves and was accused of sending information for gambling

Apart from the fact that the club updates on the state of affairs faster than any fan tweet, how dare they? Mawer enjoyed a common experience, in contact with friends or family who could not be there. That's part of it. And there are other reasons why fans also text & # 39;

This was not a match on television, but fans of the big games often just want to find out about a controversial phone call from a friend with access to a repeat of an action. Could they also be turned off? To obtain clarification about a competition they have paid to watch?

The heavy-handed steward was from a global security company from Israel, Comsec, who is employed by Football DataCo, the organization that licenses the intellectual property of football – such as calendar lists and statistics – to the media.

The Football League has since apologized to Mawer – although nothing from Hull yet. But perhaps it is the sport itself that owes fans its apology. They are increasingly treated as if the game is doing them a favor, but without them it is nothing.

NOT BAD FOR STARTERS, STEVE

The last 13 home games from Newcastle against Arsenal have yielded one win and eight defeats. The only win came on April 15, 2018, 5 days before Arsene Wenger announced that he was retiring as manager, with Arsenal on a low fire.

So although it wasn't the winning start, Steve Bruce might have hoped on Sunday, nor is it a reason for great despondency.

Other competitions will give a test of where Newcastle lives this season.

Steve Bruce did not get off to a good start, but Newcastle rarely got a good start result at home in Arsenal

CAN THE PALACE OF ZAHA & REPEAT LOVE?

Given that Neymar was greeted by a banner with the desire to leave him from Paris Saint – At the weekend there was a big surprise that Wilfried Zaha was greeted warmly by fans of Crystal Palace on Saturday.

Not only was he booed because he was trying to force a move to Everton, the locals actually sang his name and begged coach Roy Hodgson to introduce him from the substitute's bank. But what option did they have?

PSG could win the competition without Neymar, but Palace could fall without Zaha, and the fans know it. At the moment they still hope that there is a chance that he will change his mind and decide to stay. Making Selhurst Park inhospitable would just as well force him out the door.

The mood of West Ham fans against Dimitri Payet was initially similar. They hoped to make him fall in love again. Only when his behavior became disruptive and disrespectful and it became clear that he wanted to leave everything, did the atmosphere change. And it will happen to Zaha if January causes more problems.

Regarding the deal itself, Palace never made a decision. Arsenal's offer was risky and did not improve, and for all hullabaloo around the Everton deal it did not move beyond the original £ 52 million.

Zaha is worth considerably more than that for Crystal Palace. He may wonder why he is not for Everton before confusing it with the movement of his dreams.

Wilfried Zaha was warmly greeted by Crystal Palace fans despite transfer request

STILL TRACKS IN ERIKSEN LIMBO

Christian Eriksen can still leave Tottenham this summer. However, the club no longer has time to replace it. English football got away early last year with the closing of the transfer period, but may not be so lucky in the coming weeks.

Paul Pogba still does not talk like a player from Manchester United, the future of Eriksen is vague. If a large offer arrives, there may be problems.

United has dug up more than Pogba all summer, but Mauricio Pochettino has a notoriously short fuse with players who want to leave the club. He only introduced Eriksen in Saturday's game with Aston Villa when it became possible that Tottenham would open their season with a home defeat.

Pochettino is one of three leading managers – Pep Guardiola and Jurgen Klopp are the others – who believe that the unilateral closure of the Premier League window is a mistake. They are right. It makes English clubs vulnerable if a simple men's agreement on domestic transfers would have been sufficient.

Of course it is counter argument that Tottenham and United could just say no to late movements from Europe. But that was the case anyway, without placing their company in a straitjacket.

Christian Eriksen can still leave Tottenham this summer but the club can't replace him

Andy Carroll says he has unfinished business in Newcastle. That is the problem. He has unfinished things everywhere. In Liverpool, where his career never really started; in West Ham, where he spent much of his injured time.

Perhaps the encouraged Newcastle contract will provide the necessary motivation.

Carroll is supposed to earn a basic weekly wage of £ 20,000, with a bonus of £ 70,000 per start. And a void further if he does not justify these numbers for his season.

BOLTON RELEASED BY EFL BASSINI

Laurence Bassini may have only temporarily delayed Bolton's sale last week, but the fact that he is still chasing the club badly in the Football League.

This is a man who has been declared twice twice in seven years – which takes some effort – and has been banned from holding a position of authority at any Football League club for three years in relation to his team in Watford.

But here he is, while stopping Bolton & # 39; s acquisition by the Football Ventures Consortium, a list of Bolton & # 39; s joint manager, Paul Appleton, described as outrageous and disgusting.

Phil Parkinson, the manager of Bolton, was lamentable after the weekend draw with Coventry. & # 39; Mr. Bassini, leave us alone, & # 39; he begged. "Please leave this great club alone to build on the future."

Still, Bassini is a vengeful man who sent glowing text messages to the local newspaper when Watford lost a final play-off in 2013. He

Parkinson's should face it instead the Football League, which has somehow made Bassini active to its utmost disadvantage around English football.

The Football League has Bolton abandoned by the fact that Laurence Bassini is still chasing the club

Tom Heaton ended on the losing side for Aston Villa on Saturday – but he again looked at a potential England goalkeeper, even one No. 1 if the shape of Jordan Pickford falls.

After closing time after four years of preparation, trial and error, Eddie Jones's extensive World Cup team consists of one member, Ruaridh McConnochie, who has never been capped. He is a utility player, always valuable in tournaments, yet he is not the biggest sign.

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I Want My Great Memory Back! http://yourgradgear.com/2017/09/27/i-want-my-great-memory-back/

New Post has been published on http://yourgradgear.com/2017/09/27/i-want-my-great-memory-back/

I Want My Great Memory Back!

Blanking on names? Left your iPhone in a cab? Our writer tests whether the latest science-backed recall tricks will really turn your mind into a steel trap.

Jancee Dunn

July 22, 2015

I used to have a memory that amazed people, but in the last few years I’ve had trouble remembering names and movie titles. (“You know, the one about the guy who goes somewhere? It won that award…”) I hope to have many years of sharp thinking ahead of me—I’m in my mid-40s, nowhere near senior-moments territory—so I got to wondering: Is there something I should be doing now to counteract the lapses that already seem to be taking place?

There’s no way around the fact that memory erodes as we get older. The hippocampus, the area of your brain responsible for building memory, loses 5 percent of its nerve cells with each passing decade. Plus, aging slows production of acetylcholine, a neurotransmitter vital to learning and memory. Based on these facts, scientists once believed that a person’s mental ability peaked early in adulthood, then went downhill from there. But over the last few decades, research has found that adults’ brains are still able to form new, memory-building neural networks in a process known as neuroplasticity. The reassuring latest thinking: With a little effort, anyone can boost their power of recollection.

To test this theory in the real world, I tried an array of research-backed brain-sharpening techniques over one six-week period. Am I now able to list all 44 U.S. presidents? No. But can I more easily summon up where I put my keys? Yes. And I think being able to leave my apartment and lock the door is a more valuable life skill than remembering James K. Polk. Here’s what worked for me—and what fell flat.

Technique #1: Play brain games

Puzzles like Sudoku and crosswords may improve memory and delay brain decline, though experts are not yet sure why. “My guess is that playing them activates synapses in the whole brain, including the memory areas,” says Marcel Danesi, PhD, author of Extreme Brain Workout. Research so far is decidedly mixed: Some studies have found that, while doing crossword puzzles may make you better at remembering the capital of Burkina Faso, there’s little evidence they’ll boost your performance at more general tasks, like remembering where your car is parked. But a 2011 study showed that participants who played a computer game called Double Decision for six years improved their concentration so much that they had a 50 percent lower rate of car accidents.

So I decided to try an online brain-training program called Lumosity, which neuroscientists from Harvard, Stanford and the University of California at Berkeley have used in their own studies; its creators claim that 97 percent of users improve their memory in just 10 hours of playing time. First I answered a series of questions at lumosity.com to identify which of my cognitive processes, including memory, could use a little help. Then I received a personalized training regimen. A 10-minute daily series of games is free, and a more advanced program is available for $12.95 a month. (Being cheap, I stuck with the former.) The games are pure fun—remembering a pattern of blocks, spotting a bird in a field—and are based on what research has found to improve concentration and other cognitive skills.

My grade: B- By the end of a month, my “brain performance index” score rose 6 percent—not amazing in the Lumosity world, but respectable. The main problem: You have to play the games every day, forever, to keep up the benefits. I’ve mostly kept up. (Except on weekends. Or if I’ve had a busy week. OK, I haven’t kept up.)

Technique #2: Eat the right foods

According to Gary Small, MD, director of the UCLA Memory Clinic, memory superfoods include antioxidant-rich, colorful fruits and vegetables, which protect your brain from harmful free radicals. He’s also enthusiastic about low-glycemic carbs, like oatmeal, and anything with omega-3 fatty acids. In fact, a recent study published in Neurology found that people with low levels of omega-3s had brains that appeared to be a full two years older in MRI scans. That was incentive enough for me to follow the memory-enhancing diet from Dr. Small’s book The Memory Prescription, which claims it works in just two weeks. Much like the Mediterranean diet, it’s heavy on produce, legumes, nuts and fish. It’s low on meat, since meat’s omega-6 fatty acids may contribute to brain inflammation, a possible underlying mechanism for Alzheimer’s. Refined sugars produce a similar effect, so they were also out. (That was the toughest for me.) I ate a farmers market’s worth of blueberries, spinach, avocado and beets, and consumed enough fish to sprout gills. I also went beyond Dr. Small’s advice and took 2.4 micrograms of vitamin B12, the standard recommended daily amount—since studies show people with low levels perform poorly on memory tests—and 1,000 international units of vitamin D, discovered by Tufts University researchers to boost cognitive function. (My doctor signed off on the supplements.)

My grade: A It was difficult to eat meat only once a week, until I noticed how much less physically and mentally sluggish I felt. And my memory became markedly sharper over 14 days. (For instance, I quit using a bookmark because I could remember the page number I’d stopped on the night before.) Planning those meals took a lot of prep, but it paid off tremendously. I still try to use the diet as a guideline: I eat meat once a week, aim for five fruits and vegetables a day and pop omega-3 supplements (since I don’t get as much fish as I did on the diet).

            Next Page: Technique #3: Quit multitasking

[ pagebreak ]Technique #3: Quit multitasking

“One reason people can’t remember where their keys are is they’re not paying attention when they put them down,” says Mark McDaniel, PhD, a psychology professor and memory researcher at Washington University in St. Louis. (His suggestion for always finding them: “When you put them down, stop and say out loud, ‘I’m leaving my keys on my dresser,'” or wherever you’re placing them.) Studies show that it takes eight seconds to fully commit a piece of information to memory, so concentrating on the task at hand is crucial. I willed myself to stop giving everything “continuous partial attention,” a term coined by tech honcho Linda Stone. I put away my gadgets when they weren’t absolutely needed. I didn’t have 10 websites up all at once. I called a friend, sat on my bed, closed my eyes and actually listened to what she was saying.

My grade: B+ It’s amazing how difficult it is to do one thing at a time. Concentration takes work, but I found I could remember appointments better because I paid attention when I made them and repeated the day and time, rather than agreeing to commitments while doing the laundry and returning e-mail messages. My husband, usually my living iCal, was very impressed.

Technique #4: Master a new skill

A recent Swedish study found that adults who learned a new language showed improved memory for people’s names, among other things. Any activity that is practiced diligently, such as knitting or skiing, will likely have this effect, researchers say. I vowed to learn to play the keyboard. On YouTube I found PlayPianoKing, an affable guy who teaches everything from Pachelbel’s Canon to “Gangnam Style.”

My grade: C- While I did learn a mean “Gangnam” and felt my concentration improve, I soon gave up: With brain games and a diet overhaul crowding my schedule, the hour-long, every-other-day lesson was making me cranky, even before I saw any noticeable memory gains.

Technique #5: Get more sleep

Researchers at the University of Pennsylvania have discovered that losing half a night’s rest—three or four hours—on just one evening can erode memory. And the journal Nature Neuroscience recently reported that one way to slow decline in aging adults is to improve the length and quality of sleep. During a deep sleep of eight hours or more, it’s believed that the brain shifts memories from temporary to longer-term storage. Yet according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, one third of us get less than seven hours a night—including me.

So, for more than a month, I implemented a stringent schedule: I would put my preschooler to bed and take a bath. Then I’d hit my own bed with a book, rather than watch TV or movies, which several studies reveal will make you feel too keyed up to wind down. Normally I fall asleep at 11:30 p.m. and wake at 5:45 a.m., but the new routine put me out by 10.

My grade: A+ Nothing had a better effect on my memory than that long stretch of sleep. I was able to semi-credibly measure the difference because I started my other interventions a few weeks before this one. I bounded out of bed fully recharged. My mind became as focused as a laser beam; I even remembered every mom’s name during the school run (no more “Hey, you!” or just “Hi!”).

Technique #6: Use mnemonic devices

These are basically memory tools that give meaning and organization to a random group of words or concepts. They could be an acronym (BOG for “Buy oranges and grapes”), an exaggerated visualization (imagining a massive stethoscope to remember a doctor’s appointment) or a rhyme (to recall a co-worker’s name, I’d remember, “Ted has a giant forehead”). Memory champions also love chunking, or breaking a large amount of information into more manageable nuggets. Say you have to memorize these numbers: 2214457819. It’s much easier to do as a phone number: 221-445-7819.

My grade: A+ I found these tactics enormously helpful. I usually forget my poor nephew’s birthday, but this year I actually sent a gift, thanks to the unpleasant but memorable NITS (“Nephew is 10 Sunday”).

Technique #7: Hit the gym

Researchers from the University of California at Irvine recently discovered that a little exercise might yield big mental benefits. They had one group of subjects ride stationary bikes for six minutes, while another group cooled their heels. Afterward, the active group performed significantly better on a memory test. Instant results! The researchers believe the boost may be tied to an exercise-induced brain chemical called norepinephrine, which has a strong influence on memory. And Dr. Small contends that exercise is the best memory aid of all. “It can increase your brain size,” he says—and the bigger your brain, the greater your capacity to remember. His recommendation: 20 minutes of brisk walking a day. I began doing an hour daily—more than Dr. Small recommends, but also more consistent than the gym workouts a few times a week I used to favor, and, according to many experts, more effective in juicing up memory.

My grade: A- This moderate, regular activity worked wonders on my stress levels, and it became much easier to concentrate afterward, so I could fix things (like a grocery list) into my memory. I grew addicted to my walks and still take them. In fact, I found that the memory-boosting healthy lifestyle habits—exercising more, stressing less, eating a better diet—were the most sustainable over time. And that’s a win-win.

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