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lortsyall · 1 month ago

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Echoes of Eywa's Child.

chapter 1.

(Neteyam x Human!Reader series)

Pending....Pending....

Date: December 21st,2174.

Location: Office,Unit 4,Avatar Department,Human Outpost Biolab,Hallelujah Mountains,Pandora.

Time: 10:15 AM.

A long time has passed since I've known about this once alien planet. 4.4 light years away,a world full of life,like a lost paradise,sat idly in silence,away from the death and destruction that has scattered over Earth like a goddamn plague.

The ones before us saw the danger of it all,and yet they turned a blind eye,all because the climate change and the fractures in the atmosphere caused by the heightened levels of carbon dioxide wouldn’t affect them in the long run. They’d be dead anyway by the time it got too serious. So much for doing the right thing.

I wasn’t even born when they discovered Pandora,though until I actually got a grasp of reality and gained consciousness like everybody does at 5 years old,I’ve actually wondered if the so-called “Goldilocks Zone” existed somewhere else. If God smiled upon the universe and gave another planet the privilege of life.

Trust me,I have no idea how I even got here. So much time has passed since I’ve breathed in the polluted air of Earth,but I guess it’s for the benefit of all.

Guess we'll do it like they always do,huh?Start from the beginning of it all.

Pending...Pending...

Date: January 26th,2170

Location: Home,New York,USA, Earth.

Time: 12:43 PM.

Nobody ever thought that a girl like me would end up as the head leader of the Avatar Department,or an important person in the Resistance. And I gotta say,I never quite imagined myself becoming this. I dreamt of stages full of fans,as my fingers gave birth to heart-shattering riffs. Of poetry books released under my very own name,painting the pages with complicated feelings and sensations,all of a broken and imperfect human heart. Of having my own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame,making my country proud as a well known actress overseas. Though all those dreams were scattered away,like a feather in the wind,the moment I decided to do what any other scared yet artistically talented person who wants to make her parents proud does.

I got into STEM. Mechanical and Biological Engineering.

And between the sleepless nights of studying,drowning myself in math equations and lab reports,I got a one-way ticket to Pandora in my first year of college,from the one and only Parker Selfridge. Head administrator of the RDA’s operation in Pandora. I can still feel the anxiety lingering on my tongue. They never came with internships for first years,so what was he here for?

He came in to give out 5 internships at my college,yet he left with a new potential piece for this chess game. Me. All thanks to a question he asked that I knew the answer of. And to think I almost didn't say the answer because I thought everyone knew it,but as it turns out,only I did. I sat in the hallway with my friends,staring dumbfoundedly at the bussiness card he gave me.

Only back then,the RDA were treated as heroes,important people who made way for a better life. For an undead Earth. The propaganda was all enough to trick a little mind like mine,though it’s funny how I always thought I was a step ahead of everyone. Life on Earth as I remember it was,to say the least…grey.

The cities were gray. The people were gray. The sky was…well,grey. And between spending the rest of my life here,with my dreams crumbling before my very own eyes,and going out there to actually fight for a new home for humanity,you can guess why I chose the latter.

Nothing out of the ordinary was happening for me here anyway. Gorgeous girl,great personality,they all said,but nobody ever settled. Nobody ever stopped in their tracks to take in the pure and total beauty of the chaos that is me,so I never had a serious partner before. And…I guess I was also excited to see if the stories are true.

How an actual human betrayed his own race for a…Na’vi tribe princess?At least that’s how they put it,and I don’t even want to mention how embarrassing it was for the RDA to come back to Earth with their tails between their legs back in 2154. No unobtanium. No money. No Avatars. No nothing. I was three when that happened,and I remember playing with my cousins with our cardboard toys as our parents watched the TV in confusion and…disappointment,so you can guess why they made Jake Sully seem like an actual demon,and the death of a colonel was a pretty big deal,after all.

Thing is,the RDA only shows you the pearl in their hands,and not the mouth getting ready to swallow you whole. And now I know why they were so understaffed. That total failure after 2154 made people lose trust in the RDA over the years. But to me?

The decision came easily. I needed something new.

What didn’t,though,was the pure work I’d have to do in just 6 months. Learning the language of the natives,the Na’vi. Getting to understand the differences between our anatomy and theirs. The fauna and flora. The tribes. The ecosystems. And…of course,Eywa herself,though I learned that from Dr. Grace Augustine’s botany books,not from the RDA’s training program. I honestly don’t know what Selfridge saw in me,when I know I have friends better in college than me,but I better not question it too much.

I tried telling myself that as soon as I got in cryo,it wouldn’t be a goodbye,rather a…see you later. Looking back at it now,I think it was just wishful thinking. For now,I was me,the girl nobody ever really took seriously. Just another face in a sea of others. Next time I wake up,I’d have to work in an entire department with people twice my age.

Pending...Pending...

Date: July 31st,2174

Location: Pandora????

Time: ?????

The cryo-sleep thaw was a nightmare and a miracle all at once. My lungs burned as they dragged in air for the first time in four years, my throat raw and dry, every breath tasting metallic. My joints ached as if I’d aged a century.

“Subject revived.” the sterile voice of the AI announced, flat and emotionless. I tried sitting up, only to slump back down against the cryo pod’s restraints. My body wasn’t mine yet—not entirely.

“You’ll feel like shit for a while,” said a woman in a crisp lab coat, her voice muffled as she checked my vitals. “Side effects of long-term cryo. It’ll pass. Welcome to the ISV Valkyrie, and congrats on making it to Pandora.”

The word hung in the air, heavy and surreal. Pandora.

The next few hours were a blur of debriefings and medical checkups. My body eventually began to cooperate, but my mind lagged behind. I shuffled through endless corridors with other groggy personnel, each of us too stunned to speak. We were like ghosts wandering through a ship that pulsed with life—technicians barking orders, holograms buzzing with real-time scans of the moon’s surface, the low hum of engines preparing for atmospheric descent.

When the ship finally broke through Pandora’s atmosphere, I felt it in my chest. The vibrations reverberated through every bolt, every panel, and through me. The world outside the viewport was alive. The dense, green forests sprawled endlessly beneath the floating Hallelujah Mountains, their bases wreathed in ethereal clouds. The sky shifted from pink to blue in the blink of an eye, its colors alien yet breathtakingly familiar.

For a moment, the hum of engines and the chatter of voices faded away. It was just me and the sight of this strange, beautiful moon—a place that could have been paradise if we weren’t here to ruin it.

The ship landed with a jarring shudder, and the real work began.

Adjusting to life on Pandora was like learning to breathe all over again. Everything about this place demanded respect—the gravity was lighter, the air richer, and the biology... unfathomable. Days blurred into weeks as I threw myself into the work at the Avatar Department.

My mornings began with syncing sessions in the link pods, my mind slipping into my Avatar body like stepping into a cold pool. It wasn’t seamless—at first, every movement felt foreign. I stumbled through training exercises, my longer legs and stronger muscles betraying me at every turn. But slowly, the body became mine.

Afternoons were spent reading over files on Na’vi biology, studying their neural networks and learning their language. The words felt clumsy on my tongue, but I persisted. When I wasn’t in the lab or out on field assignments to observe Pandora’s ecosystems, I was immersed in RDA briefings.

That’s where I first heard his name again.

Jake Sully.

The briefings spoke of him like a ghost, a legend who had long since passed into myth. But here, his name was a warning.

“Resistance forces led by Sully attacked the rail line near Sector 7 again,” one of the military officers growled during lunch at the canteen. “Three shipments of amp suits lost. That bastard and his little insurgents are crippling our operations.”

The room buzzed with tension as reports of attacks piled up. Sabotaged trains, stolen supplies, and destroyed equipment—it was chaos. To the RDA, Sully wasn’t just a traitor. He was the personification of everything standing in the way of their plans.

But the more I learned, the more conflicted I felt. The propaganda painted him as a terrorist, a man who had betrayed his own kind for a primitive cause. But every whisper I caught from the scientists who had been here longer told a different story.

“Maybe Sully isn’t the villain they make him out to be,” I muttered to Dr. Ellison one evening as we worked late in the lab.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable as he pointed towards a CCTV with his head,as if to say "Shut up. They're listening."

"That’s dangerous talk,you know. Keep your head down. Do your work. They don't like questions.”

I nodded, but the seed of doubt had already taken root.

The attacks continued, each one more brazen than the last. The RDA ramped up their operations in response, sending more troops and machinery into the wilds of Pandora. But for every move they made, the Resistance seemed to be one step ahead.

And then there was the tension between the people I worked with. Some were diehard loyalists, determined to see the mission succeed no matter the cost. Others—mostly the scientists—spoke in hushed tones about the beauty of the Na’vi culture, the interconnectedness of the flora and fauna, and the destruction we were bringing to this world.

I kept my head down, just as Ellison had warned. But at night, as I lay in my bunk staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but wonder: which side of history would I be on?

Pandora had a way of getting under your skin. The longer I stayed, the more I realized it wasn’t just a place. It was a mirror, reflecting humanity’s best and worst instincts back at us. And somewhere in the middle of it all was me—a girl who had come here for a fresh start, only to find herself caught in a war she didn’t fully understand.

The attacks became more than background noise; they became a constant undercurrent to life on Pandora. At first, they were just distant explosions, reports in the briefing room, or muttered curses from the military personnel in the mess hall. But over time, the Resistance started to feel like a presence, a shadow that loomed over everything the RDA tried to accomplish.

Jake Sully wasn’t just a name anymore—he was a force of nature.

The first time I felt the Resistance's impact directly was during a supply run. It was supposed to be routine—a quick trip to outpost Beta-5 to deliver Avatar-linked monitoring equipment. I was tagging along as part of my training, mostly to observe.

But the Resistance didn’t care about schedules or safety zones.

The attack was fast and chaotic. One moment, the AMP suits ahead of us were trudging through the dense forest, their movements mechanical and predictable. The next, arrows rained down from the trees, followed by explosions that sent the towering machines toppling like broken toys.

The ambush hit like a storm—sudden, violent, and unstoppable.

One moment, I was riding in the back of the supply truck, surrounded by crates of equipment and two guards sharing a nervous laugh. The next, the forest erupted in chaos.

The first explosion flipped the lead AMP suit, its towering frame crashing to the ground with a deafening roar. The convoy came to an abrupt halt as arrows rained down from the trees, their sharp points glinting like falling stars.

“Get down!” someone yelled.

I hit the truck bed hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. My mask rattled against the metal floor as I scrambled for cover behind a crate. The world around me dissolved into a cacophony of gunfire, shouting, and the eerie war cries of the Na’vi.

The guards fired blindly into the trees, their exo-packs hissing as they struggled to maintain their aim under the pressure. I peeked over the edge of the crate just in time to see one of the AMP suits stagger, an arrow embedded in its cockpit.

Panic set in. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. I wasn’t a soldier. I wasn’t trained for this. My human body was fragile here—one wrong move, and I’d be dead.

I clutched the sidearm they’d insisted I carry, though my hands were shaking too much to use it. What was I even doing here? This wasn’t supposed to be my fight.

A shadow passed overhead. My breath hitched as I looked up to see a Na’vi warrior leaping from a tree, his bow drawn, his movements impossibly fluid. He landed on the roof of the truck with barely a sound, his golden eyes scanning the scene below.

And then, those eyes locked onto mine.

For a moment, the chaos of the ambush melted away, leaving only silence between us.

He stood above me, perched on the edge of the truck’s roof, silhouetted against the glowing forest. His figure was tall and commanding, every line of his body taut with a warrior’s grace. The flickering bioluminescence of the nearby trees played off his skin, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across his lean, muscular frame.

His face was angular and strong, the high cheekbones and sharp jawline unmistakably Na’vi, yet there was something softer in his expression. His golden eyes, large and luminous, fixed on me with an intensity that felt like a physical force. They weren’t filled with rage or cruelty but something far more unnerving—calculated curiosity, as though he were trying to read my soul in that single moment.

The streaks of blue war paint decorating his face didn’t fully mask the smooth, rich azure of his skin, which gleamed faintly under the pale light of Pandora’s twin moons. His braids, adorned with small beads and feathers, swayed gently with each subtle movement, a testament to the culture he carried with him like armor.

But it wasn’t just his appearance that struck me—it was his presence.

He radiated confidence, a quiet power that demanded attention without arrogance. It was the kind of aura that made the world around him seem smaller, less significant. The chaos raging around us felt like a distant hum compared to the weight of his gaze.

And yet, beneath that commanding presence, there was something deeper—an unmistakable grief, perhaps, or a burden that someone so young should never have to carry. It was in the set of his shoulders, the faint downturn of his mouth, and the way his hands gripped the bow with both precision and purpose.

“Drop it,” he said, his voice deep and steady, but with a softness that caught me off guard.

The words hit me like a command, though they weren’t barked or shouted. It was the tone of someone who expected to be obeyed—not out of fear, but respect.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. The sidearm in my trembling hands felt heavier than it should, as if the very act of holding it was a betrayal. His gaze flicked to the weapon, then back to me, and I realized with a jolt that he wasn’t looking at me like an enemy. He was looking at me like a question.

“You are… different,” he said, tilting his head slightly, the movement as fluid and deliberate as everything else about him. His accent curled around the words, each syllable infused with the lyrical cadence of his native tongue.

I wanted to speak, to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt dry, my voice lost in the weight of the moment.

He crouched slightly, lowering himself onto one knee so we were nearly at eye level. Even then, his presence dwarfed mine. Up close, the details became sharper—the faint patterns of his skin, the slight twitch of his ears as they picked up the sounds of the battle behind him, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“You do not fight,” he observed, the faintest hint of curiosity threading through his words. His eyes lingered on mine, their golden glow unwavering. “And you… fear.”

It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement of fact, delivered with neither judgment nor malice.

His hand shifted slightly, and I flinched, but he didn’t reach for me. Instead, he pointed at the weapon still lying on the ground between us.

The Na’vi reacted instantly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet with startling gentleness.

“You do not belong here,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Run.”

“What—”

“Go!”

He released me and darted back into the fray, moving with the grace of a predator and the determination of someone who had everything to lose.

I didn’t run. Not immediately. Instead, I crouched behind the truck, my legs trembling as I watched the battle unfold.

He moved like the forest itself, blending into the chaos with a skill that seemed almost supernatural. He wasn’t just fighting—he was leading. The other Na’vi warriors followed his signals, their coordinated strikes overwhelming the RDA forces.

For every bullet fired, they had an arrow. For every shout of anger, they answered with a battle cry that sent chills down my spine.

And yet, amidst the violence, there was something strangely... noble about them. They didn’t kill indiscriminately. They targeted the machines, the vehicles, the weapons. It was as if they were trying to make a point rather than simply annihilate us.

When the ambush finally ended, the Resistance had melted back into the forest, leaving behind a convoy in ruins. Smoke rose from the wreckage, and the air was thick with the smell of burning fuel.

I stumbled out from behind the truck, my legs barely holding me up. Around me, the survivors were regrouping, their faces pale and shell-shocked.

“Medic!” someone called, dragging a wounded soldier from the wreckage.

But I couldn’t move. My mind was stuck on him—the way he’d looked at me, the way he’d spared me when he could have easily ended my life.

“You do not belong here,” he’d said.

The words echoed in my head as I stared at the destruction around me. For the first time, I began to wonder if he was right.

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 1 year ago

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OK, uh, I am, like, writing this crack fic right now, don't worry about it too much, and I was looking back up the Meta Liberation Army thing...

And, uuuuuuuh...

Can we talk for a QUICK SECOND about the ideology of BNHA villains?

OK, like, I'm trying to do this thing in the fic, where I position the Meta Liberation Army and Humarise from the Movies as two diametrically opposed ideologies for obvious reasons, and Humarise is easy as shit to write, it's just a Death Cult who believes in what is, in universe, a fringe conspiracy theory by a disgraced quork scientist from 50+ years ago, an hypocritical one at that since none of their high ranking members are Quirkless despite advocating for Quirkless rights.

Anyway, in my fic they just finance the Shie Hassaikai for now, hence the gang not going under, and and will come into play later, but I had the bullheaded idea to also tackle the Meta Liberation Army immediately for added drama, you know, the parallels, and holy shit...

The MLA are Ancaps.

This is, and I can't stress this enough, the most charitable way I can read them.

Their entire ideology is essential unregulated freedom. Everyone should use the quirk the way they see fit, with no permits or licences, always. Basically the dissolution of the social contract they are currently living in.

This is also the ideology of the League of Villains mind you, but there is a big difference there.

ReDestro is a rich fucking businessman.

The three top leaders of the Army? One controls the biggest telecommunication company in the country (Modern Media) the other their biggest publisher (Traditional Media), and the third is a GODDAMN POLITICIAN.

Do we know... ANYTHING about the Political Leanings of the Hearts and Minds party in canon? Like, I assume they'd be advocating for ways to ensure Meta Liberation Army doctrine to be upheld right? Which means tax cuts for their allies, lessening in quirk regulations, I guess some Token Heteromorph support?

Keep in mind the only Heteromorph among the MLA top ranks, as well as the only woman, is also conventionally attractive. Like, I can DEFINITELY see her as a great example of some weird Glass Ceiling "Got mine fuck you" situation, in the way her gender and quirk are ultimately secondary to her Social Class as a member of the rich elite.

Like, shit, the more I read about them the more I am amazed Horikoshi essentially wrote about how in the BNHA universe there is a secret society composed by the richest men in the country, infiltrated at the highest ranks of society, even among heroes or the commission, advocating for deregulation and zero oversight...

And then just... Did nothing with it.

Like, ReDestro straight up... Picks a fight with the league and then that's it, we doing villain shit now, time to suicide bomb the commission for no reason, the MLA could have EASILY fucked over Japan with a 10 year plan of gradual political shift, and NO ONE could have done anything about it cause they are just normal businessmen at that point.

"You don't arrest Lex Luthor for burning the rainforest you arrest him for using a giant robot to do it" sort of shit.

Like, imagine this shit is tackled with the gravitas it deserves, and Izuku has to come face to face with the fact hero society is corrupt and a slave to capital and he can't do jack shit from stopping a LITERAL POLITICIAN from spreading harmful rhetoric via social media and the traditional medias unless he goes rogue and starts car bombing people, that he can't even "vote with his wallet" cause Detnerat controls most of the market when it comes to support items?

Like, damn.

#bnha #bnha critical #meta liberation army #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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towerartt · 8 months ago

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Handsome Jack 8, 12 ❤️‼️

ouhhh so sorry this took me so long to answer...

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

I’ll tell you if you promise not to get mad at me💔

A big chunk of the fandom wrongly views him as the Capitalism Incarnated, while he is quite obviously simply a product of the psychopathy breeding system. Jack’s psychopathy is a reaction to a crime that is uniquely capitalistic. Angel’s kidnapping is a crime of greed. He is, as every Borderlands character, uniquely traumatised by the world he was born into. Borderlands shows what capitalism does to men. Jack is not much different from the psychos/bandits of Pandora. For both, the planet is a prison. Psychos choose to assimilate, and Jack chooses to destroy it. He is the universal threat; neither the poor Pandorians nor the elite are safe from him.

But does the distinction matter? I believe so. This affects the narrative as a whole.

We can choose to see Jack as Capitalism, and we get to kill him, and then we all go out for milkshakes. Simple and up-lifting, and very American. But to me, Borderlands is largely pessimistic. Honest people die, the leaders are either cowardly or evil, and the oppressed are often gross, stupid, and difficult to sympathise with. And we cannot kill capitalism, so we kill a scapegoat in its place. The world of Borderlands is fixed: Jack’s death does not affect the status quo; it only frees the tyrant spot for the new, yet-to-come aggressor. This is less satisfying, isn’t it.

(Possibly I am overanalysing a silly shooter game that isn't concerned with a critique of capitalism/colonialism deeper than a simple and straightforward “It is very bad.”)

And despise is a strong word. Interpret him however you want. What I truly despise is haters going "Why are you Jack's apologist?" because he activates my maternal instincts! Next question.

+ personal nitpick. The "Is he/is he not a tragic hero" debate. Girls NONE of you are using the same definition of neither hero nor tragic. I hope a huge asteroid takes out all of us.

12. What's a headcanon you have for this character?

I have soo many so I'll just drop a few here that I haven't talked about before mkay <3

Uncharacteristically (and unsurprisingly) squeamish about burnt flesh. Nisha once brought him a scorched hand after some village burning (it looked kinda funny she thought it would make him laugh how was she suppose to know he is so goddamn sensitive) and he started gagging when she dropped it on his desk. When she gets really mad at him, she dumps some burnt remains at his apartment (she loves him dearly btw)

He journals a lot. Partially because, in his opinion, it is a very Great Leader activity, but also because Angel cannot pry into what he has written down on the pages. He knows this deeply annoys her. She can see everything, and she knows everything except for her father's thoughts. Sometimes Jack makes Angel echo him and patiently wait while he finishes his entry to really rub it in. He sometimes draws her.

I hope this is comprehensible. Part of Jack’s mythos being that he only has scars on his front, kinda like Alexander the Great, because a real hero always bravely faces his enemies. But actually, his back is a mess of scars from childhood. Wouldn’t that be fucked up?? All his fanatics are like "Erm, Jack would never ever let anybody get him from behind because he is SUPER cool and smart, and he never runs away from a fight <33" I think this would add to his inferiority complex.

Thank you for this ask💕 Ouhhh I love talking about this guy

#ask #borderlands #☀️

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moonmacabre01 · 2 months ago

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with any characters you want!! only one request: absolutely FUCKING DEVASTATE ME

Oh boy, oh boy . . .

betrayal- Early in it's adulthood, Perihelion had a "friend" I have yet to name. The only one they really had. Eventually it showed him the blueprints for a project, one it had spent ages working on. They talked about how dearly it wanted to build the project, and the hope that he would be beside them when it was completed.

The 'friend' stole the blueprints in the night, and sold them to some human company. Peri was heartbroken when it found out -that the first friend it EVER truly had would sell off it's dream- and left that place never to return. This is what caused the trust issues it has when it meets Galacta and the others . . .

desire- More than anything, Taurus wants to be a hero, to have that level of adoration- and yes, love. Some part of his heart is still a child with his head full of stories and a yearning to be seen, and I guess you could say that piece of him is the 'root' of this desire. He's very closed off about this, and hasn't told anyone about it except a childhood friend he hasn't seen since he left his planet. He doesn't share his hopes easily, likely due to his rough relationship with his mother . . . 😓

As to what he'd do to fulfill this desire, well . . . there's a reason he fights so recklessly and with so little care for his wellbeing. Any harm that might come to him would be worth it, in his eyes.

ghost- In some ways, Rosentine is still haunted by her mother's "ghost", or more accurately how revered and admired Queen Laurel was, and how she feels she needs to live up to that. This is mostly an remainder of her late princesshood and early reign that still nags at her from time to time, but she's gotten better at living with it. You could say it's a fading ghost, something to move on from as she's slowly doing. Maybe this got a bit off track . . .

guilt- Wellll, my Heroes of Yore- Perihelion, Phoenix Knight, and Brocade- all share one particular guilt, over the exact event you might suspect. They all, in their own way, hold themself responsible for GK's imprisonment outside of time.

Peri beats itself up for getting too lax and trusting with the Mage Council*, Brocade wishes she had been more insistent on going to Ripplestar to heal instead of staying at the cathedral the fateful event occurred in, and Phoenix . . . honestly, 'guilt' isn't really the word for how he ever feels in the events post-Sealing of The Greatest Warrior. Maybe 'heartbroken' would be more accurate, or 'vengeful'. lol

*the Mage Council was basically an group of supreme, greatly experienced and accomplished mages that held a great deal of power in the time of the Ancients. More or less the leaders of the magic faction. In a different timeline, Hyness probably joined their ranks ^^

monster- from some views, Phoenix is definitely monstrous, especially compared to the average member of his species. A shockingly strong inborn fire magic, wings and tail never seen before or since, goddamn huge by standards of the species, and an oddly calm and relaxed-yet feral nature. To say nothing of the butterflies that tend to follow him, you know what they say about butterflies.

Phoenix himself is not at all aware of how strange he is, and probably wouldn't care if he was. He's happy with himself, why should he worry about people he doesn't know or their thoughts?

#answering asks #ask game #woo! that was fun :)))#lots to think about I hope #this definitely steered pretty heavily towards my Heroes of Yore; but I'm not too surprised.#the role they have lends them very well to more painful asks like these #+they're very fun for me to think about ^^ Peri in particular is a sort of character I haven't really tried writing before #so I find writing it a fun new challenge #perihelion #Phoenix knight #brocade oc #taurus knight

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what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque · 10 months ago

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Omggggg so I'm only like 5 mins into the BG3 epilogue and I already love everything about it so far ❤️ I had to write out my current initial thoughts about each romanced spawn!Astarion option.

So of course I couldn't resist and saved right when Astarion asks about what's next in the relationship/what you want so I could see everything & ughhhh my Tav & him are so cute with every option. I am still SO TORN between the 2nd/3rd options of underdark or sun cure.

On the one hand i'm like yeah! My Tav is an optimist so let's go find you a way to be in the sun again!! but also I kiiiinda feel like we have a responsibility to go help out a bit with the spawn in the underdark even though when it was discussed earlier in my game he said he wasn't going to volunteer for that (another positive imo though is underdark = less constantly worrying about the sun coming up, outside of nights where we decide to go topside). It's a lil messy, but so is he, and it's also a way for him to deal with the consequences of his choices - a theme brought up frequently in his story.

His reactions are v. cute about the "let's be heroes" and "quiet life" options too but that seems less... fulfilling or a good fit for them imo?? Being heroes is fine, but either way that doesn't really address the very real problems that would come up while living with him (and felt like a weird fairytale ending cop-out) so I didn't want to do that

I love love love that most options say the next 6 months with Tav are a happy contrast to the past 200 years, but I'm sad you don't get that line if you go with the underdark option (but I do love that you get to make a fortress a "home" which is great cause he def enjoyed like... all of the ruins in the game haha). So i'm still sitting here like a clown debating on what I'll "officially do" 😭 Probably doesn't matter and you can headcanon whatever but still haha. I want to do both, why can't we live in the underdark but take little adventures in Faerun to go find leads on items or spells or whatever that might be able to let him go enjoy the sun!?! Also my Tav is a half-elf so she'll need to figure out how to expand her lifespan to better match his if they're gonna "have forever" like he says. There's no way they're just spending all their time down there just being leaders (and let's be real he'll have relevant input of course, but it's your Tav probably making most of the better judgement calls lol)

Lastly, I haven't peeked at his reaction to the last option yet but can I also just say @ Larian WTF stop offering me opportunities to break up with him!! I mean I'm sure some people do it and want this, but after everything you're telling me your OC is gonna wake up all adorably next to your sweetie & break up with whoever you romanced right after you saved the world!?? Nah, couldn't be me lol, no matter who I picked that is not the goddamn time for a breakup you heartless person lmao

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #can't wait to finish work and fully enjoy this epilogue today 😭#it was like 1am when I beat the game and I had to just stop and go to bed #if you see this & you romanced him & kept him a spawn please tell me what yall did i need to know!#i am here for the headcanons too #astarion x tav #i am here with my feels yall #first playthrough beating this game and I want it to be perfect lol #and you better believe i'm gonna be using the freecam later with all his reactions because i'm down bad for this fictional man #pk plays bg3

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aita-blorbos · 1 year ago

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AITA for not believing that someone was dead and digging up their grave to prove my point?

(AU/Fanfiction post)

Okay, I know the title probably makes me sound bad, but hear me out.

For context: I (43M) have been trying for almost eight years to expose and kill the man, a person I’ll just be calling J (40M), who caused the death of my wife, B. That bastard did things to B that I can’t say here, but she’s been missing for eight years, the police think that she’s dead, and I won’t ever be convinced that J isn’t the reason she’s gone.

The problem with just putting J’s head on a pike in Central Park like the fucking animal he is was that he was a world-famous superhero, and he was a pretty goddamn powerful one. Flight, laser eyes, impenetrable skin, superstrength, all those works, and he’s backed by a massive corporation (we’ll call them V) which will cover up everything he does, which includes what he did to B. And apparently, J’s corporate creators have thrown everything they can think of at this fucker to see if their science project was a success, and none of it put a dent in J. If I was still a believer, I’d say that God is laughing His white-robed ass off at my expense.

J sounds like the kind of wanker that could never be killed by anyone, right? That’s what me along with all my friends in on the plot to take J down thought too at this point. I’d just given a contact in the CIA some incriminating evidence about V’s corruption, only to be seemingly proven wrong. V announced that J had been KIA by some bullshit rival organization with a potent nerve gas.

Nerve gas, killing J. What a bloody joke. I didn’t believe it for a second, but the others? They all were happy to accept it and move on. To them, J was dead and V was being nailed to a plank like Christ on Good Friday after their shitstorm was exposed to the public. But I still wasn’t happy. Despite what my friends and the CIA tried to tell me I didn’t believe that J was dead. V saw what was coming and gave J some bullshit fake death and now he’s living somewhere in the Caribbean or somewhere like that getting lap dances from a conga line of exotic tarts. I would have bet my left bullock on it.

The funeral was soon after, almost too soon, and it was diabolical. V threw a lot of money I didn’t think they’d have after all the allegations into this thing. A gold-plated coffin, massive service with J’s ex delivering the eulogy (judging by her face and flat acting I’m pretty sure she was forced by V) along with a fling (we can call her S, she was on J’s team too) of one my friends performing a music number in J’s memory. They even had an American flag draped over his coffin along with the flowers, like J was some great military leader and not a spoiled manchild they fed powers to out of a bottle. Over the top cock-up, if you ask me.

But I was gobsmacked during the wake to see an actual body in the casket, I was expecting it to be closed. It definitely looked like J, down to every last detail, V had him in that stupid hero uniform and everything. He looked almost like he was peacefully sleeping. I wanted to jab at his skin with a pin from my sister-in-law’s hair to see if it would go through, I would know then if it was really him because there’s no way a pin would be able to go through J, even if he was dead. My in-laws and the friend with me wouldn’t let me though, bloody cowards that they were. They just forced me to give my SIL her pin back and to go sit down with them.

I watched the whole service, watched them carry out that golden monstrosity and lower it into the ground. I even stayed after the service to watch them pour dirt into the grave. It wasn’t enough. I’d seen J’s body, but I still wasn’t sure that it was actually real. That it wasn’t fake or some kind of double. Everyone thought that me going to the funeral would give me closure, but it only did the opposite. Even going to my aunt’s house for a cuppa and seeing my dog wasn’t enough to calm my nerves.

It was after a few pints and getting proper trollied that I got the idea to go back to the city and then break into V’s tower for some answers. So the next morning I took my pistol and crowbar and got into the tower, but I guess I wasn’t careful enough and set off an alarm or maybe walked past too many cameras because their security caught me before I could even make it halfway up. I may have lost the plot a bit, I may have threatened to kill the rest of J’s team, the police found my pistol on me when they got there. They charged me with felony trespassing and, later, tacked on assault for shooting S with my rifle in an earlier incident (she has powers just like J does, give me a break) after she ID’ed me. I got five years and a pile of restraining orders.

I was out on parole after almost two years, so as soon as I got my clothes, money, and the rifle I hid I cut my ankle monitor and legged it. I was on a mission; I was going to find out what killed J, if he was even dead at all, and my friends were going to help me. It wasn’t hard to find them, they’d scattered after J was announced dead but apparently decided to have a meeting of sorts after hearing about me getting out of prison. S was there, so I ended up violating my restraining order, but what the fuck ever. We got into an argument and S threatened to drag me to the nearest police station. It turned into a sudden intervention with everyone insisting to me that J was dead and that I had to let him go. S kept vehemently insisting that he was gone, that he was never coming back. And then I got a call on my cellphone.

My first thought was that it was my SIL or maybe my aunt, so I answered, ready to have to defend myself for violating parole. It wasn’t any of them though. I knew that voice, that fucking voice. It was J, saying my name like he wasn’t sure it was me he’d reached. It was him, I swear on my dead brother’s grave that it was him. My first thought was that J called to taunt me and the first thing I asked him was what the fuck was going on. He didn’t taunt me though. J sounded… scared. I’ve never heard him sound like that, not even in any of the movies he’s starred it. That wasn’t right, J doesn’t get scared. He told me that he couldn’t think of anyone else to call, that V were pieces of shit (no kidding), that his teammates betrayed him, and that he was being held against his will out of the country and some pretty awful things were being done to him. J was calling me from a payphone and the call cut before I could get any meaningful information out of him.

I was raving at that point. S had gone quiet, but the others were trying to convince me that it must have been a prank call, with the one who went with me to the funeral pointing out to me that we saw the body. That made me remember the body, and I yelled at S when the realization hit me before running out of the room. I took some tools and got back into my car before peeling off to the cemetery J was supposedly buried in.

It was right in the middle of January in New York when this happened, so actually digging into the dirt after I’d hopped the cemetery wall and found the grave was a bitch and a half. I used a pickaxe to break apart the frozen dirt, then the shovel to scoop up the pieces and toss them aside. My friends showed up soon after, I guess they followed me. S wasn’t with them. They kept on trying to get me to stop digging and kept calling me crazy. They must have accepted that I wasn’t letting up though when I just kept digging and let me keep going, but they kept telling me that if I turned out to be wrong they were going to turn me in themselves. I just told them that it was a good thing I wasn’t wrong then.

It took me all night, but I got all the way down to the concrete box the casket was in, and I busted the seams with a sledgehammer before having one of the others who has superstrength help lift it. The others just wouldn’t shut up about how messed up this was as I used my crowbar to pry open the coffin. The body was all sunken and decayed and smelled like shit, but I just slid down J’s uniform and exposed his chest. I couldn’t help but hold my breath when I hovered my pocketknife over the body, then I sank it in.

The skin broke with little resistance. I knew right then, but I cut the chest all the way open just to prove my point. The others didn’t seem at all convinced though, so I cut off one of the body’s fingers and put it in my coat pocket and took some pictures of the cut open chest. We all left after that; the sun was rising and we didn’t want to be there when people started showing up.

After that, I found my CIA contact, R. I couldn’t just walk into her office, I was already wanted for my parole violation and apparently the security cameras at the cemetery caught my face, so I was also wanted for “desecrating the resting place of a national hero” (the media has always been V’s personal ball-ticklers). So, I got into the back of R’s car and waited. It didn’t take long for her to show up and start driving, I guess I scared her when I sat up because R almost crashed the car, then she started yelling at me and made a U-turn, telling me that she was going back to the station to turn me in. She changed her tune though when I explained the phone call from J that I got, showed her the pictures, and gave her the finger to take and run a DNA test on it. She made me get out of the car, but agreed to test the finger under the same conditions my friends gave me: if I’m wrong and the DNA is a match for J’s, I’ll spend the rest of my life in a black site.

To make a long story shorter, while we were waiting for the results to come in I had one of my friends, F, pull some contacts and trace J’s call, which we tracked back to a payphone in Russia, and S fessed up to V getting sick of cleaning up J’s messes and agreeing to sell him out to some private research company based there. Everyone on J’s team was in on it because of how he is, the only one who wouldn’t agree was blackmailed. S insisted that she didn’t know anything about J possibly being mistreated, and that she’d been told that he was going to be held in a maximum security prison for supes with experimental technology to keep him contained. That still might be true, we don’t know for sure yet. All I know is that J sounded terrified of the prospect of being caught by his captors and he described some heinous things being done to him. If J was lying and pretending that he was being treated horribly, I don’t think he’d pretend to be afraid, his head’s too inflated for that; he’d pretend to be righteous and angry about it.

It only took three days for R to get back to me with results from the DNA testing, and I put her on speakerphone with everyone except S (she had to go back to V’s tower) in the room. She confirmed my suspicions; the DNA did not match. In fact, while the DNA did match with someone in the database, it wasn’t J. It was another supe, one with shapeshifting powers. Apparently V made them take the form of J, then they killed them so that they’d have a convincing corpse to put in the casket and show the world in order to convince everyone that J had truly died.

Despite me being right though, my friends are still looking at me weird and calling me crazy, saying that I’m bonkers. I turned out to be right, I don’t think I did anything wrong, but they won’t let up. So, am I the arsehole?

TL;DR: scumbag’s corporate overlords claimed he died and held a funeral, I didn’t believe that bullocks so I broke into their tower, got thrown in prison for it, then once I was out I cut my ankle monitor — because fuck parole — and dug up his grave. Turns out I was right, but everyone else thinks I’m crazy.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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thousandbuns · 2 years ago

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Oh yeah baby, it’s time for the unhinged, unscheduled and unstructured Ylthin rambles, today’s topic: loose thoughts on the overall structure of “Horus Rising” (based on my increasingly more faded memories so forgive me for any inaccuracies) and how it contrasts the first few chapters of “Flight of the Eisenstein”.

*cough*

So, in no particular order, and jumping around subjects a bit...

Remembrancers. I know you probably don’t care about them because they’re either annoying, forgettable, blatant writer self-inserts so that Graham McNeill can ogle some fictional women, or have the misfortune of competing for attention with Astartes and Primarchs, but... they are so goddamn important to the story structure, characterization and theming in “Horus Rising”. They are sheltered civilians and bohema-roleplayers fed mountains of propaganda before getting shipped off to create more propaganda about “our brave boys”... and they get reality-checked on multiple levels.

They expect glorious, refined, “peak of humanity” warriors - they get barracks filled with what’s at best scaled-up teenagers, and at worst actively hostile war machines. The Astartes typically dismiss them, avoid them, treat them as a nuisance - which is why someone like Mersadie or Ignace having direct access to Garviel Loken is such a big deal for both sides. They get to talk to a company Captain and Mournival member - and he doesn’t shun them. He’s actually a little sympathetic to them even if he doesn’t quite understand them. That sets him up to be a “good guy” type - an image that is then viciously (and forgive me for using a word so abused it’s lost all meaning) subverted, because...

Whisperheads. The Remembrancers perhaps expect the scattered strands of humanity to kneel before the majesty of the Great Crusade, then rise into a glorious new future - and then they see the reality of ruined cities filled with hostile locals and keeps lined up with mangled bodies. And remember - Luna Wolves don’t particularly revel in violence, they specialize in fast, precise assaults to decapitate the enemy. The action at Whisperheads isn’t a malicious slaughter. It’s an execution, a burst of gruesome yet detached violence, and its aftermath shocks the Remembrancers even before the supernatural gets involved. It has what may be one of my favourite moments in 40K novels - Loken calmly, yet callously dismissing a grievously injured soldier’s pleas for spiritual solace by calling them “superstition”, then mercy-killing him through a decapitation. This is our “hero”. This is a man we’ve seen cheering and fraternizing with his battle-brothers like a middle-school kid. This is a man considered to be a good leader, respected and liked by his men. This is one of the kinder, more mortal-friendly Astartes.

And then there are the others. Abaddon, who can be choleric and brash, but not a blood-addled fool or a sadist, whom we see frolicking with the rest of the Mournival and trying to ease Loken after the Whisperheads - who then gets into a vicious argument with his own Primarch, to the point of driving usually calm and fatherly Horus to throw his wine glass, command him out of the room, threaten demotion and only consider showing mercy if his First Captain comes back groveling and begging for it. All of it over Horus’ refusal to conduct a direct military action against the Interex clashing with Abaddon’s warmongering attitude and disdain for the “deviant” civilization. Torgaddon, the king of witty retorts and master of dad jokes, an “older friend” type to Loken - and yet you don’t see him fraternizing with the Remembrancers. Wish I could say something more about Aximand - but his silence and general withdrawal is also somewhat telling. You see their human side, yet they stay away from mortal humans and keep to their insular little coven of warrior-brothers instead.

“Horus Rising” succeeds at making its Astartes human-yet-dehumanized by having them interact with - or avoid - mortals, and all of it plays into the further themes - the intended nuance and tragedy across the loyalist-traitor divide. The doubt over the veracity of Imperium’s stated goal. The insidious nature of propaganda, the inherently repressive nature of this authoritarian state. The fallen idol of gold we see in 42nd millennium was standing on feet of clay from the very beginning, and the book isn’t subtle about it. Doesn’t have to be - nuance and subtlety aren’t inseparable - and shouldn’t be because the 40K fanbase is full of people like me, who need to be whacked over the head to understand something, and also people who wouldn’t get the memo even if it gave them a wedgie and stole their lunch money, like some of BL’s own writers.

I’ll spare you the extended screaming match over “False Gods” killing all nuance, assassinating half the cast (for now figuratively) and taking a massive step towards an oversimplified “good Imperium vs. evil Chaos” storyline that misses the entire goddamn point and actively makes the whole series less entertaining. I’ll also fast-forward over “Galaxy in Flames” struggling to pick up the pieces as it has to rush forward and cover a major event without having the same amount of time and word count to flesh out some of the key players in it, and deepening or firmly rooting in the problems of the previous two books as a result. We’re now at “Flight of the Eisenstein” scrambling to flesh out Death Guard the way “Horus Rising” fleshed out Luna Wolves.

And I’m just 4 chapters in, about 70 pages out of 280-ish (discounting all the superfluous marketing/publisher crap inflating the pagecount of BL novels). Things could change. I could be wrong and full of shit, and I’ll be the first to admit it if the novel somehow corrects itself on the problems I have with it right now: namely that everything is once again so goddamn flat and simplified.

Remember the nuance with which both halves of the Mournival were written? Fuck that. Grulgor is a brash dick with no redeeming qualities, Garro is a saint of a man and Typhon is Erebus Mini. Remember how the Remembrancers served to highlight that even the kindest Astartes is still a cold, uncaring war machine at the core? Fuck that, so far the only mortal character - Garro’s housecarl - is here to show you that Grulgor is a dick and Garro is a saint. The divide between diminishing ranks of “watered and fed” Terran-borns and Barbaros Legionaries whose ancestors struggled in extreme conditions - and how it feeds into some really toxic mindsets (I’m not apologising for this awful pun) across the Legion - may as well end up being another botched “good-evil” binary, and I saw enough derision towards the “lows” of society (working class deriding the margins, working-ascended-to-middle class looking down at both, big city middle class sneering at them all) to feel afraid.

I’ll give it benefit of a doubt in one area for now - remember how “Horus Rising” focused mostly on conflict against “normal” humans - not insane technobarbarians, not deranged Chaos worshipers, but conventionally acceptable “civilized” worlds, some of which proclaimed themselves to be the Sole Human Empire In The Galaxy (what could Dan Abnett mean by this, I wonder) - and only introduced a planet of “hostile xenos” as a (forgive me for using this cursed word again) subversion to once again remind you with the subtlety of a brick through the window that the Imperium’s policies are horseshit across the board? “Flight...” opens with an assault on the world-ship of distinctly inhuman xenos who go as far as to implant combat augments into their “children”, which has potential to be another stab against the Imperium and Astartes... but unless it gets elaborated upon later, it may as well end up being a footnote in the story, a cool little setpiece to introduce the characters and little more - or worse, be repurposed into yet another pro-Imperial argument without a hint of self-awareness. After all, we’re already setting up an abridged rehash of “Galaxy in Flames” so we’ll have the basis for Garro turning against his Primarch, siding with the Emperor and flying the titular ship to deliver the news of the Heresy.

A story that could easily have the same nuance and message as “Horus Rising”, but that will most likely end up being boring “good guys outsmart the bad guys” drivel.

Wake me up when Heresy remembers what does “no good guys” actually mean again.

#warhammer 40k #40k rambles #horus heresy was a mistake #100% only reading TSons/White Scars/Space Wolves novels and maybe a handful of guaranteed quality recommendations after I'm done with FotE #because I'm not wasting time on aborted plotlines and Imperial bootlicking #SWs are only there because I need context for how they are in Heresy vs. 40K's present times #so I'll probably drop off after the first few novels #Russ apologists rejoice #I'll be reading about your favourite war criminal because I care too much about my own Fenrisian baby boy #and his dynamics with the 10.000-year-old evil wizard thembo #I'm not a Magnus apologist BTW #I'm his judge-jury-executioner because I love him and TSons but boy do they also fucking suck #imagine being a pick-me girl for the Imperium of Man

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broitsf-ckingfreezing · 2 years ago

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So I watched Avatar for the first time (I know, catch up already, amirite) and...

Hoo boy...

Where do I even start.

Don't get me wrong, it's a beautiful movie. It's a set right out of the deepest pits of my imagination; it hits all the positives of fantastical sci-fi with a subtle backdrop of dystopia. The Na'vi serve a beautiful fantasy down-to-earth element while humanity portrays a message of technological takeover. And we must remember that 2009, hell, basically anything pre-2016 or so, didn't often have open political messages, especially a message about white colonization of the indigenous.

But.

And it's a big but(t)

(couldn't help myself sorry)

It's only great up until, like, the last 50 minutes or so? I think you know what I'm talking about. It's a nice story about a people coming together to face the imminent threat. But it's a fucking native vs colonizers story with a goddamn white savior. What did Jake even do to actually earn their respect? Sure, the Eywa chose him and all that, but what the fuck does that even mean? It literally gives "eh, the natives weren't good enough so I blessed this white man instead."

(dropping in a point here to remind you that it isn't just because Jake is a white man, it's that he's a man at all and not a Na'vi native).

It's not a good look for James Cameron.

Wanna become native? Uhhhh.... just dress like them for a couple months, learn about 5 sentences of their language, and have sex basically in front of a shrine to their goddess.

It's...

It's just dang icky.

The story would have been easily a thousand times better had they had Neytiri (AKA the beautiful Zoe Saldana, a black woman and Na'vi native in the film) the true hero and Jake as... basically a kind of collateral damage. Maybe his former marine and informant status could've ended up inspiring her with ideas for war tactics or something. And shit, it would've been such a sick fucking plot twist for the hero of the first half to suddenly become lowkey redundant because he isn't a goddamn native; they have zero reason to trust him. I mean, this asshole literally fucked the fiancé of the future clan leader! And he faces no consequences! It's giving Anakin Skywalker massacring children and being rewarded with marriage.

And it wouldn't make him any less of a main character.

He would still be a hero, just not the hero.

And then, ONLY THEN, once they've won, do they truly accept Jake as clan. As brother.

Imagine it: Jake tries to rally the forces of Pandora and... it doesn't work. Failure is upon them. It all looks hopeless. And then Neytiri, renewed with hope and a heart aching for revenge, steps up. And it's her that delivers the powerful speeches that inspire the clans because she is their sister, not some guy who's only been around for three fucking months.

But hey, what do I know?

#avatar #james cameron avatar #na'vi #film discussion #avatar critical #film essay #watching Avatar 2 next and my hopes are NOT high #colonialism #messages in film #movie review #movie essay #ffs james cameron stick to the cgi #let someone else handle the plot #science fiction #pandora be pretty tho #gonna drop in a sneaky #fuck anakin skywalker #anti anakin skywalker

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artist-kreating-stuff · 2 years ago

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I’m jumping on the Spider-Verse train while it’s still hot!

I haven’t seen the whole movie, I’ve only seen clips and scene packs, but I feel that one thing is perfectly clear:

To say Miles Morales is going through a tough time is the UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY!

The poor boy just wants to be accepted for who he is, secret identity and all, and then when he actually finds a group that even remotely understands what he’s going through, they hate his guts!

Their leader even considers him an anomaly, a mistake - just what EVERY child wants to hear, thank you Miguel O’Hara!

He really needs someone to hold him and tell him that he’s not a mistake, that he’s doing the right thing.

Perhaps someone who understands what he’s going through:

(First official Procreate drawing - we’ll see where this goes.)

Lloyd, I feel, would absolutely understand what Miles is going through. He didn’t want to be destined for greatness either, yet fate had other plans for him; Miles was just a fan of Spider Man before he actually BECAME him. And even when he was revealed to be a great hero of the people, the others that shared his destiny couldn’t care less about him; Miles was literally CHASED OFF by the Spider Society because they deemed him a threat. To top it all off, his father is very “popular” in society, and he often feels trapped by his father’s values; Miles’s father is a police officer who loves his son, but might not approve of his secret identity because of his predecessor.

It took a while for Lloyd to gain the trust and respect of his teammates and the people, but he eventually got there. That’s why I have hope that Miles will eventually get there as well.

After all, they did leave us on a GODDAMN CLIFFHANGER!!

Also, I used a reference image because freehanding the hug pose was a nightmare:

#fanart #ninjago #my art #crossover #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #spider verse #miles morales #comfort #warm hugs #first official procreate drawing #reference image #small rant

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ask-paradox-and-friends · 1 year ago

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Garou's turn

Monsters:often referred to as 'Beings of Unknown Origin' or BUO I prefer this as it makes more sense. And easier to remember. They are split into categories based on power.

Wolf Level:these aren't dangerous at all. These don't do much but are only a danger to people that accidentally see it. The only monsters I've seen on this level are the living piggy bank that steals lunch money the Mutated chihuahua that lost its owner and the man loved reptiles so much he became one...huh.

Tiger level:these are a step up and are basically threats to groups of people.. I've only met one. And even then it was like some weird ass domanatrix with the powers to brainwash people to fight for her. Thought there was a...Awakened cockroach...(I can hear Tsugu and her friends scream.)

Demon level:these guys are actual threats to cities and everything in them. They're the most common type where I'm from and aren't much of a threat to me. There was the car monster doctor geniuses monsters like that mosquito girl and the gorilla monsters I met a month ago. The weirdest ones are the internet troll who hated humanity so much they became monsters. What is my life?

Dragon level:the most common level of danger in my world. They are a massive danger as they are capable of ending entire states and countries There's Bug God,Phoenix Man,Black S,Bakuzen and come to think of it a lot of the monster association are dragon level. Odd. Ah well.

Dark matter theives:a group of space priates wandering the galaxy trying to find good battles. Too bad most of them are dead. Shame they seemed cool. But they have interesting ranks. There's the multi headed one the galaxies best physic the acid multi mouthed one. There's also the one that flies the ship but most of their ranks are mooks. Their captain is interesting however.

Monster association:a group of monsters trying to rule the world and make the human race extinct. *sigh* most of the monsters aren't major threats but the higher ups are something. The cat and Phoenix are pains and ugly and gums are jokes but unfortunately rover and water almost put me down the first time and then there's Sperm which is a whole other issue. Wait. Where's Phychos and Ororchi? Uh-oh.

God-infused:this is what happens when you take the monster God's offer to become stronger. You look human but you have lazers and energy attacks on a massive degree. Do these assholes ever feel tired?

Tsukuyomi:a group of scientists and megalomaniacs trying to make artificial espers with physic powers. They almost always have scars on their heads so it seems they do brain surgery to get these powers. They like experimenting on children or anyone the hero association sells to them for top billing...wait...I just passed by a group of heros with face and head stitches...Göll better find a way to get the others here I stepped in it now.

Machine gods:a group of super powered robots trying to rule the world and declare robot and cyborg Supremacy. (What is with people? Like goddamn get a hobby.) I managed to find a way to get the ACHS to aquire the dead robots and their allies to get the espers. Wait. These things look like Drive Kight and Machine Knight....is it too late to call a CODE RED?

Sub-boss Phykorochi: so this is what happens when those two merge. Well she's a lot stronger and far more dangerous. Orochi's ability to adapt and grow in power with Phyko's smarts and esper powers. Man am I glad I learned ninjitsu and got that quirk (note to self get the others thank you gifts.)

Boss Lord Boros:the leader and captain of the dark matter theives someone imprisoned him and he broke out. As a god level threat he's a danger to all of humanity. He seems to have lasers healing and a second form. Shit the scanner just told me he has Cellular regeneration...great I have to deal with Paradox level regen...I'll need help!

Now that I finished the little in realm conversions with Goll kow I have a new idea!

Journal entries of monsters and enemies in their realms! In order of time periods!

@hazawatsugu

@splatoonfan88

Question is...how do they see the world around them?

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years ago

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Why isn't Nightwing a bigger deal? He has all of Batman's skills and Superman's faith in humanity and is arguably the most beloved hero in the DCU, but most people seem to know him either as the leader of the N̶o̶t̶ ̶J̶L̶ Teen Ttians or just Robin.

Thank you for asking me about Nightwing, I've been wanting to write a piece about him for a while now. The short version is that everyone who claims Dick becoming Nightwing was him "moving out of Batman's shadow and becoming his own man" is completely wrong.

Dick Grayson is a fantastic character, someone who saved Bruce Wayne in-universe both by forcing Batman to grow up a bit, and the countless times he saved Batman's life as his partner whether as Robin or Nightwing. Dick saved Batman in the real world as well, hard to believe but Batman was actually in danger of being cancelled due to poor sales early on. Enter Robin, a young daredevil audience stand in the creators hoped would get kids interested in reading Batman. And it worked! Sales on Batman doubled once Robin showed up which is crazy to think about, but Dick Grayson has always been a popular character. Cartoons like Teen Titans, Batman: The Animated Series, and The Batman only helped grow his audience.

Character-wise, Dick Grayson really does fill a number of crucial roles in the DCU. For Batman, Dick is proof that Batman is a positive force. Meeting Batman helped change Dick for the better, helped him heal after his parents died. With Dick, Batman can take comfort in knowing that yes, he has made a difference in the world for at least one orphan boy, which is all he wanted when he lost his parents himself. To the wider DCU, Dick is a friendly face who convinces others that Batman is competent and not a complete asshole. He took this kid in, trained him to be one of the best heroes the DCU has seen, and did it all out of the kindness of his heart. That someone like Dick can confront the evils of Gotham and not break means there's still hope for that city. As Robin, Dick has led the Titans and is an icon in his own right as The Sidekick, the original, the one every other Robin is built around copying or contrasting. The one all other superhero sidekicks are drawing on as a basis. As Robin Dick Grayson is very much on Batman's level.

Just not as Nightwing. As Nightwing, Dick has been a second rate Daredevil which means he's a third rate Batman (fully prepared to get hate for this but I've read and enjoyed the Miller and Bendis DD runs so I feel entitled to my opinion). A typical Nightwing run tends to go like this: Moving to Bludhaven (which is Gotham... but WORSE!), Dick Grayson usually enrolls in a pointless job we don't care about in order to provide some meaningless soap opera drama that doesn't go anywhere. Patrolling the city as Nightwing, he fights a variety of bad guys who are usually rather lame and unthreatening, with his big bad being a Kingpin knockoff called Blockbuster. Villains are fought, long running plotlines are set up, then everything is abandoned because it's Batfamily event time, and Dick has to run back to Gotham in order to play sidekick again. Usually his involvement is completely superfluous and it would've been better if the writer had gotten to opt out. By the time we finally get back to Nightwing's solo plotlines, the audience has usually ceased to care and the run gets cut short.

That's how Nightwing has been since the New 52 at least. Anyone who thinks that's "becoming their own man" is out of their mind. Dick is so thoroughly in Batman's shadow that he got shot in the head and spent a longer time as "Ric" which everyone fucking hated and sold like shit, than he did as Agent Grayson which was extremely well-received. Reiterating: Ric went on longer than Grayson because of a fucking Batman plotpoint Tom King wanted where Bruce was sad and cut off from the Batfamily because of Dick getting shot. Not just calling out King either, how many times was Kyle Higgins Nightwing run derailed because of Scott Snyder's crossovers? Or how about that entire run getting dumped to the side because Johns wanted to out Dick during Forever Evil, a Justice League/Lex Luthor story? DC has repeatedly made their contempt for Nightwing clear, he's Batman's sidekick still in their eyes, and he serves whatever story role the Batman writer wants.

Hell his best stories tend to have been the ones where he's not Nightwing. He was Robin in a good chunk of the Wolfman/Perez New Teen Titans run. Morrison really showcased his depth as a character when they wrote him as Batman, their time with Dick under the cowl was actually one of the first Batman runs I ever read, and no Nightwing run has ever matched it in terms of quality in my humble opinion. Scott Snyder's work with DickBats also was a high point for the character, showing Dick as competent and examining his relationship with Gotham and the Gordons. King and Seeley gave him one of the best comic runs with Grayson, a series where he wasn't even a "superhero" technically! When it comes to actual pre-New 52 Nightwing runs that are highly recommended where he *is* Nightwing, there's Chuck Dixon and uhhhhhhh... Tomasi's brief run before Dick became Batman? It's not exactly an overwhelming list.

Look there has been good work done with Nightwing, I'm not claiming there hasn't been. Tim Seeley wrote a great run with Nightwing Rebirth. Seeley fleshed out Dick's Rogues Gallery with cool new ones like Raptor, he brought back old foes like Dr. Hurt (why oh why couldn't you have brought back Flamingo too?), he gave Dick's world some character it solely needed. Bludhaven under Seeley is pretty much the only time I've really felt like it lived up to being Dick's city.

The problem with fictional cities is you have to put in the work to give them the character of real cities. You have to make the cities feel like characters in their own right. Gotham is the best example of this, it's a character all it's own, one that tells you a lot about Batman and his cast. In contrast Bludhaven is usually one of the worst. Any place that wants to claim to be worse than the city that is built over the gate to hell and gets wrecked every other month by the Arkham freaks has to really put in the work to compete. Simply put, Bludhaven typically fails utterly. There's nothing about it that makes you really buy it's worse than Gotham, I mean does anyone really think Nightwing's Rogues wouldn't get their lunches eaten by Batman's? No, no one genuinely buys that. When Bludhaven claims to be worse, it just comes across as tryhard, an attribute that does end up telling you about Nightwing in unintentional ways.

So Seeley didn't do that. Instead he created a city built for a hero like Dick Grayson. Someone who is bright and flashy, but does have an element of darkness to him. Someone who loves the spotlight, but often uses it to obscure. Seeley turned Bludhaven into Las Vegas, and that was the fucking best concept for Bludhaven I have ever seen, it makes so much sense. Las Vegas is the "Entertainment Capital of the World" and isn't that the perfect city for a hero who got their start working in the circus? Isn't the aesthetics of the gleaming casinos, the glamorous sex appeal of the performers, and the spectacle of the shows, all being used to cover up the seediness of mob bosses meeting backstage perfect for Nightwing? It's so utterly unlike New York City, yet Las Vegas is still dangerous, it's got a crime culture all it's own. Seeley used it to great effect, as did Humphries during his brief run, and I will always be pissed that DC didn't continue to use it. That should have stuck around and been the definitive look for Bludhaven.

How Seeley's take on Bludhaven was treated feels like a small scale version of how Nightwing in general gets treated. Whenever creators pitched ideas for him, if editorial thought there was potential to break big, they asked for those ideas to be repurposed for Batman instead. Anything big or good gets repurposed for Batman or tossed to the side so Nightwing can go back to his default: having irrelevant adventures in a city that is supposedly worse than Gotham but can't live up to it. Just like how Nightwing is supposedly better than Batman but never gets to show it. Goddamn it's so frustrating seeing his potential get wasted like that.

The Nightwing book should be one of DC's most ambitious books in terms of storytelling. You can go from traditional superhero stories, to romantic soap opera, to spy stories, to crime noir, to horror, to cosmic adventures, and ALL of them would fit because Nightwing is someone who has a foot in both Gotham and Metropolis. He's got friends everywhere on every team, and has been a hero longer than most Leaguers have at this point. No reason DC should still be afraid to let him loose and insisting on hewing close to what Dixon established almost over 30 years ago is only holding him back. At the very least get him some better Rogues, why the hell didn't he get to keep Professor Pyg? That's Dick's villain not Bruce's! Bullshit that they didn't let Dick keep him. Hopefully Flamingo comes back, with a slight revamp I think he'd make a great reoccurring Nightwing Rogue.

Luckily it does look somewhat like Nightwing fans have reason to be optimistic. While Taylor isn't to my taste, DC clearly views him as a "big" writer, and that they put him on Nightwing says a lot. Taylor has been selling well so far, so hopefully he gets to tell his story, hilarious that even he lampshaded having to write Dick running over to Gotham for another tie-in after Taylor's big opening arc was all about Dick committing himself and his money to Bludhaven. Scott Snyder is apparently working on a Black Label Nightwing book which will explore how he's a different detective than Bruce. The Gotham Knights video game has him as one of the main stars, and while Titans is... controversial, it's one of the most popular streaming shows and Dick is the main character. There's a lot of content coming that features him in the starring role, and that will only help his star rise further.

For the first time in, well, ever it feels like DC may be serious about elevating him. Time will tell if it pays off, but I for one choose to be optimistic that the 2020s will be a turning point for Dick Grayson where Nightwing becomes hugely popular in his own right. Not just as Batman's sidekick.

#nightwing #dick grayson #batman #gotham knights #titans #dc comics

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minty-mumbles · 4 years ago

Text

True Colors

Summary: Monsters are stupid, but they do have excellent color vision, and can recognize patterns almost as well as Hylians. This leads to some misunderstandings.

Or:

Monsters assume that Hylians operate under the same color system as they do.

Content Warning: Not much to note. A few Bokoblins die.

Author's Note: I wrote this to fill this prompt from @linkeduniverse-prompts. It got way out of hand and ended up being about 3k words longer than I expected. I have a cheat sheet about color meanings at the end.

(Read on AO3 Here)

~~~

Greg wasn’t stupid. Well, he had been told plenty of times by his sisters that he was. He was a Red Bokoblin, and Reds weren't known for being very smart. (Not that any kind of Bokoblins were, but that was irrelevant to Greg.)

But personally, he felt he was a lot smarter than many of the others in his clan. Like Jeff.

Jeff was an idiot, even by Bokoblin standards.

It was because he was so intelligent, Greg thought, that he was able to devise a plan to sneak up on this group of travelers. (Truthfully, he wasn't being very sneaky. The group he was tracking was just being particularly unobservant at the moment.)

Greg had seen the perils of attacking first and asking questions later first hand. His brother, Derek, had done so, and picked a fight with the wrong group of travelers. Derek had paid the price for that mistake with his life. And then Derek II did the same... And then Derek III. And then there was Derek IV, who truthfully hadn’t made that poor of a choice in target. It was just plain unfortunate that that Hylian hero had shown up and lit him on fire. (Honestly, maybe his parents should stop naming their kids Derek.)

Not that picking a fight with the wrong Hylians was particularly hard to do for them. Their clan was mostly Reds, the lowliest and weakest of their kind. Only his eldest sisters were lucky enough to be born as Blues. If they went up against any Hylian but the weakest, they were in trouble.

So, yeah. Greg had seen many of his fellow clanmates fall to stupidity. He wasn’t going to be one of them.

At least he hoped so. Jeff might get him killed anyway. Greg didn't know why his sisters always put the two of them together for patrol duty.

Greg crept relatively silently through the bush towards the loudly chattering group of Hylians, letting out only an occasional squeal. Jeff, however, was moving as if he were a Hinox, and he was going to get them caught. Never mind Greg’s brilliant plan of sneaking up on the group of Hylians and seeing what they were up against first.

He turned to Jeff and tried to mime that he should stay here, while Greg got closer to check things out. Unfortunately, it just looked like flailing, with the occasional slap thrown in, and Jeff didn’t seem to understand. Thankfully, he seemed content to stay put. He had gotten distracted by a strange glowing blue ball halfway through Greg’s attempt at communication. Greg really didn't care, as long as Jeff shut up and didn’t move.

Greg crept further forward on his own. When he finally reached the treeline, he hid behind a fallen log, and set about observing the group.

Immediately, his malice-filled veins ran cold.

This was not an ordinary group of travelers.

The intricacies of the Hylians’ marking system were somewhat lost on Monsters as a whole, and although he prided himself on his above-average intelligence, Greg was no exception. The Bokoblin marking system was very straightforward. Those who were Red, like Greg, were the weakest. Then came the Blues, then the Blacks, the Whites, the Silvers, and then the mightiest of all Bokoblins, the Golds. It was quite simple. It telegraphed their ranks and battle prowess nicely, both to other Bokoblins, and to their enemies. Greg thought it was rather thoughtful to give their enemies a heads up on what they were going to be fighting.

Hylians were not in the habit of returning that favor. No Bokoblin had managed to really make heads or tails of their marking system. There were only a few accepted truths that all young Bokoblins are taught.

Brown was the most common coloration, and was pretty much assumed to be similar to Red Bokoblins. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the Browns, except that they were good at running away. A couple Reds could take down a Brown with no trouble.

Then there were the Whites. They were only really found near central Hyrule, near one of the Great Hylian Camps. They were much faster than the Browns and actually seemed to know what they were doing with weapons. They were also very good at sneaking. Greg knew that many camps had been wiped out by White Hylians.

Then there were the Reds. These were possibly the strangest of all the colors. Greg’s sire had told him that they were to be treated, cautiously, as allies. They never attacked Bokoblins without provocation, and they even occasionally teamed up with Bokoblins to take down the Hylians, especially the Whites.

Next up on the Hylian totem pole were the Blues. Personally, Greg thought it was weird that Hylians placed Blue above White, but Hylians as a whole were very strange. Except for a few sightings recently, Blues hadn’t been seen for many, many generations. Their legend persisted though, as they were perhaps the most consistent of all the Hylian colorations. If a Hylian had a bright blue coloring, you could assume that they would have high quality weapons, and would know what to do with them. Browns would even run towards them for protection, or so Greg was told.

They had been known for working together in large groups to bring down entire camps of Bokoblins. Greg had once been told that Bokoblins learned how to band together, and how to find safety in numbers from observing these Hylians.

And then.

And then there were the Greens.

If Blues were legendary, Greens were mythical. Sightings of them were few and very far between, which might have to do with the fact that the Bokoblins who saw them didn’t live to tell the tale. The destruction they wrought was so absolute that even if they hadn’t been seen for hundreds of years, their legend lived on.

(Greg himself had seen one, once. He had only lived because he had run away before the Green had spotted him. He usually tried not to think about it.)

So, yeah. Greg had been expecting a small group of Browns, perhaps some Whites or a Blue thrown in.

That was not what he had gotten.

This was an entire goddamn clan of Greens.

A loud yell from the pair closest to Greg covered up his shocked squeal, as his brain tried to process exactly how much danger he was in.

He could count seven Hylians in front of him, huddled around a campfire. The pair closest to him were wrestling on the ground. Distantly, Greg was reminded of how his sisters wrestled to assert dominance, but these Greens seemed to be much friendlier about it than his sisters were. They weren’t even drawing any blood. The one who currently seemed to be winning wore armor around his shoulder, and a stripe of bright blue around his neck.

That made Greg pause for a moment. Was this a Blue instead of a Green?

But no, the Hylian’s torso was covered in undeniable green.

Similarly, the one pinned under the Blue-Green wore a Red tunic, but under that, a dark Green gave him away. Perhaps the two were some sort of hybrid? The concept of hybrid Bokoblins was foreign. Bokoblins were always one color, but who knew with Hylians.

Most Hylians did not accept Reds into their groups, as they were hostile towards others of their own kind. Maybe that was why Blue-Green was wrestling with Red-Green?

A few yards away, another pair sat on a log watching the pair fight, with a third tending to a fire nearby. The two sitting on the log were the biggest Hylians Greg had seen in this group. If he had to pinpoint any of them as the leaders of this clan, it would be these two. One was covered in armor, which Greg had only seen on the most skilled Hylians, and only in small amounts. The fact that this Hylian was covered in the stuff was intimidating. Greg couldn’t really tell what color this Hylian was, as the armor covered him, but this must be the leader. He was big enough for it, and the one next to him seemed to be showing him a good amount of respect.

The Hylian sitting next to the Leader seemed more like the run-of-the-mill Green. (Not that any Green was run-of-the-mill, but whatever.) The most notable thing about him was the wolf pelt he wore around his shoulders, which did give Greg pause.

His sisters wore the skins of large animals they hunted, as a symbol of their higher status. Neither of them had a wolf pelt, though. Wolves were strong creatures, and best left alone. It could take an entire clan to take down a fully grown wolf, let alone a whole pack. The fact that this Hylian, who wasn’t even the leader of this clan, was wearing the wolf pelt so openly was clearly a warning.

The third was crouched over the fire, moving the logs around with a stick for some reason. This one was a White-Green, a long white covering over his shoulders. He was listening to the conversation between the Leader and Wolf-Pelt, occasionally adding his own thoughts.

Once Greg was able to get over his shock of seeing so many Greens in one place, he was able to see that they weren’t actually all Greens. Two of them, huddled closely together, were just wearing pale Blue. Not quite as concerning as the others, but still strong.

One of them was smaller than any of the others in the clearing. He wore a pale blue covering. Greg paused in confusion. In a group of powerful Greens, why would they tolerate a small, weak Blue? Clans could become stronger, as Greg’s was, as stronger Bokoblins were born. But if his clan was made up of Blues, and a Red was born, they would be killed or driven out. There was no room for weakness.

But then again, Hylians were very strange. Perhaps, since this Blue was obviously a youngling, they had simply not matured into their adult Green coloration? It was possible.

The youngling was crouched over a strange flat rock, held by the other Blue. Now, this one was the same size as the others in the group, and obviously an adult. The excuse of being a youngling did not apply to him.

So why….?

The Blue shifted, lifting the strange rock, and handing it off to the Youngling, joined the White-Green near the fire. As he did, Greg caught sight of a familiar symbol on the rock.

An eye.

The symbol was not strange to him. It was scattered all over the land on large black rocks. However, to see it on a smaller rock like this… seemed familiar, and not in a good way.

Greg strained his memory to try to remember when he had seen this before, and then it hit him.

He had seen this strange rock before, when Derek IV was killed. He had gone after a pair of Brown Hylians who had unwisely traveled off the road. Greg, still being quite young at that point, had hung back to see how it was done. It had gone well for a while. Derek IV chased the pair, swinging a club at them, while the Hylians screeched in fear and scrambled away.

Then, swooping down from the sky like a bird of prey, a Blue Hyalin descended. True to legend, Greg had watched the Browns scramble toward the newcomer for protection. Derek IV, likely having fallen asleep during their sire’s lessons, did not register the danger of this Hylian’s color, and ran straight towards the group.

Greg had watched in horror as his brother was cut down with graceful ease. He hadn’t even had time to squeal a battle cry before he was falling to the earth with a flaming sword buried in his side.

He continued to stare in mounting terror as the Blue bent down and harvested his brother's teeth. The Blue had even taken Derek IV’s weapon for his own before his brother finally took enough fire damage, and broke down into smoke, disappearing.

The Blue had approached the Browns, who hadn’t even looked disgusted at the looting of a body, and had instead gifted the Blue food as a token of appreciation for his protection.

Greg came to a sudden realization. This was no Blue. He was colored like one, but he was alone. According to legends, Blues came in packs, ruthlessly efficient in working together. Besides that, Greg could imagine only one color that was that efficient at killing.

Greens.

Greg didn’t know why this Green was disguised as a Blue, But he didn’t stick around to find out. The last thing he caught sight of was a strange rock on the Green’s hip, with an ominous eye on the front of it. He had booked back to the safety of his clan’s camp. Not that he harbored any delusions that anyone in his clan would survive if the Green-in-Disguise found them.

Thankfully, he hadn’t, and Greg had grown up trying desperately not to fall into the same trap of attacking first and finding out the consequences later as Derek IV had.

Now, the same strange eye symbol was back, on the same strange rock, in the possession of the same Green-in-Disguise. Well, the same clan, at least. The Youngling was still fiddling with the rock, occasionally calling out to the Green-in-Disguise. Greg could only assume it must be some type of weapon, if a Green was in possession of it.

Greg stumbled back, turning to flee. He had saved himself once by fleeing in the face of one Green, and he wouldn’t make the mistake of trying to take on seven Greens at once.

Wait- hold that thought. A rustle in the bushes on the opposite side of the clearing caught his eye. Against his better judgment, he crept back to look. If that was Jeff coming to look for him, and he stumbled into the encampment of a clan of Greens in the process, Greg was not going to be helping him.

Fortunately, (or unfortunately, Greg thought privately,) it wasn’t Jeff. It was two more Greens.

Greg felt faint, and nearly swooned on the spot as Wolf-Pelt called out in greeting to the two new arrivals.

These two new arrivals were underwhelming. They were both small. In fact, one of them was even smaller than the youngling already in the camp. His coloring was a strange mash-up of Blue, Red, and, oddly, Purple, which was a color that Greg had never heard of Hylians being. But he also had Green, plain as day. Greg had to wonder if this Four-Color was even younger than the Youngling. Maybe it wasn’t certain yet what his strength level was going to be?

The other was of a more reasonable height for a Hylian, although not as big as many of the others. He had brown coloration peeking out from underneath his green. Perhaps this was the weakest of them all? But again, if he was tolerated in this, frankly overpowered, clan of Greens, then there must be more to him than meets the eye.

But these two new arrivals, no matter how unthreatening they looked, meant the clan now numbered nine. Greg had never seen a Bokoblin clan this large, let alone a Hylian one, at least outside of the Great Hylian Camps. Normally, Hylians only traveled in small groups.

This was bad. If an entire clan of Greens had appeared in Hyrule, then the Hylians were getting stronger. He had to report this to his sisters.

With a determined grunt, Greg turned back to where he had left Jeff. He needed to collect him, and then head back. Under the circumstances, he didn’t think his sisters would care about them not finishing their patrol route.

When he arrived back to the place he left Jeff, his brother was still absorbed with kicking around that strange glowing blue ball from before. Greg didn't know what it was, but at this point he didn’t particularly care. He just wanted to get back to the slight safety of their camp.

Just as he was about to squeal at his brother that it was time to go, he heard a shout from behind him. It was one of the Greens, calling out. For a moment, Greg was worried that they had been discovered.

Then, he didn’t have to wonder anymore.

The weird glowy ball that Jeff had been playing with exploded in blue light. Before Greg could even shield his eyes against the light, it was over. The explosion had taken Jeff out in one hit. His brother's body was already disappearing into smoke, leaving nothing behind.

Greg knew they had been discovered. Somehow, this whole situation must have been a trap, and it had been set up by the Greens. They must have known that Greg was there the entire time.

These Greens were terrifying. Greg could hear Hylian footsteps moving in his direction, and booked it out of the clearing. He wasn't sticking around for them to find him. He was leaving.

At least his sisters couldn't put him with Jeff on patrol anymore.

~~~

It was a rather chilly night. The seasons were just changing in his Hyrule, splashes of reds and golds dotted here and there as some trees started to shed their leaves, and the autumn air wasn’t exactly warm or balmy.

The group usually waited until Wild was ready to make dinner to start a fire, but not tonight. Sky volunteered to collect firewood, and only stopped to set down his pack before leaving to search for kindling. Four and Hyrule also left to scout the area, and make sure there weren't any threats lingering nearby.

Wild helped Time and Twilight move some fallen logs into the clearing for makeshift benches, and then collapsed onto the nearest one. He sighed, and pulled his boots off, shaking a pebble out of the left one that had been bothering him for hours. He didn’t immediately put the boots back on, letting his feet relax after a long day of walking.

Wind settled next to him, Time and Twilight not far off. Legend and Warriors were already bickering about something or another, snarking at each other for where they were perched across the empty fire ring.

Wind sniffed next to him. “Goddess, Wild, your feet stink! Why did you take your shoes off?”

Wild very maturely stuck out his tongue at the younger hero, pointedly ignoring Time’s muttered: “Don’t encourage him, we already have one squabbling pair, we don’t need another.” Wild stuck his dirty boots back in his slate, pulling out one of his cleaner pairs. Wind, forgetting the apparent stench, shifted closer in interest.

“So, how many different sets of clothing do you keep in there?” Wild shifted to show Wind his slate, swiping through the armor and clothing he accumulated on his journey.

“So, this is the Sheikah stealth set. It’s the first set of clothes I bought after waking up from my shrine. I got it in Kakariko. Before that, I was basically wearing a set of rags I found in my Shrine.”

A rustle from across the clearing drew Wild’s attention as Wind continued to poke at the slate. It was just Sky, carrying an armful of wood. Before the Skyloftian could start to set up the fire, Warriors took things one jeer too far, causing Legend to leap across the pit, tackling him off his log. Sky didn’t even do a double-take, ignoring the two wrestling near the side of the clearing, and started to get the fire going.

Next to Wild, Time and Twilight were watching the fight with interest. Twilight turned to Time. “Should we stop them?”

Time shrugged. “They’re not actually hurting each other, are they? Think of it as hand-to-hand combat training.” Twilight stared at Time as Legend got pinned underneath Warriors, and screeched, biting his hand in retaliation.

Time stared back. There was a moment of silence, before Time spoke again. “Fifty rupees that Legend wins.”

Twilight sighed, returning his gaze to the fighting pair. “You’re just as bad as the others sometimes, you know that?” Time just raised an eyebrow in question. Twilight groaned, defeated. “I’ll take that bet.”

Wild snorted. Twilight liked to pretend that he was less of a gremlin than the rest of them, but really, he just hid it better.

“Hey, isn’t that what the Warriors was teasing you about the other day?” Wind’s question brought Wild’s attention back to his slate. Showing on the screen was the Gerudo set, displayed on the digital form of Wild himself. “Wait, it’s yours?”

Wild’s hand darted out, covering the younger boy's mouth. “You will tell no one about this.” He hissed, eyes darting around the clearing, checking to see if anyone had heard. It looked like he was in the clear. It wasn’t that he was particularly ashamed of wearing those clothes, but he would rather spare himself the teasing he knew would be imminent if the group found out.

Wind batted his hand away from his mouth, grinning at him mischievously. “Okay, I won’t.” Wild waited, not believing that it would be that easy. “You have to make seafood curry for dinner though.” Wild hummed, considering. It wasn’t as bad as he thought Wind was going to demand.

“Alright,” He acquiesced. He was planning on making Creamy Vegetable Soup tonight, but he thought seafood curry was just as good. It was no trouble for him to switch up the menu. He had a couple of nice Progys in his slate they needed to eat anyways. He would have done this even if Wind just asked him, though, so he wasn’t sure why-

“But you have to make it spicy.” Wind insisted. Ah, there it was.

“Sure.” He shrugged. Most of the others wouldn’t be pleased. Seafood Curry had a lot of goron spice in it, at least it did the way Wild liked to make it. Wind, Legend, Four, and himself were the only ones in the group who could handle spice. He and Wind had grown up eating spicy food, and Legend traveled to very distant lands, building up a tolerance to all sorts of spices. Four could only tolerate spice occasionally. (It varied. Sometimes he couldn’t even handle a spiced meat skewer, and sometimes he inhaled the spiciest food Wild could make. It was very strange.) Most of the others in the group had low spice tolerance.

Usually, Wild acknowledged that fact in his cooking, and cut back on the spice, but since Wind was asking…

Well, he certainly wouldn’t complain.

He handed the slate off to Wind, rising to join Sky next to the fire, to make sure it was at the right temperature for seafood curry.

Another rustle from the bushes around the clearing drew his attention to the returning Hyrule and Four.

“Anything to report, boys?” It was Twilight who called out, as Time was still snickering at the sulking Warriors and his own purse, now fifty rupees heavier.

“Nothing of importance,” It was Four who answered, coming to sit next to Time. “There’s a stream a few minutes away, and we found a set of Bokoblins footprints, but they were days old.”

“Good, now we should-“ Wild’s attention was drawn away from both the fire and Twilight’s response by a call from Wind.

“Hey, Wild! What does this button do?” That sentence made dread well up in Wild’s stomach. There were only so many buttons to push on the slate, and Wild’s mind flashed back to a very crucial detail that he had forgotten.

He spun around, nearly hitting Sky with the stick he had been using to poke the fire. He could barely get out a shrieked “Wait!” Before there was an ominous click, a moment of tense silence, then-

BOOM.

Right. The bomb he had dropped earlier, and had forgotten to dissipate.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling all the world like he was every one of his one hundred and seventeen years. He let out a slow breath, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Was this what Twilight felt like all the time? He needed to go easier on his mentor.

“That button explodes things, Wind.”

A silent, judgmental stare from Time told him to fix the mess he’d created. With a huff, he heaved himself to his feet, and motioned for Wind to follow him. “Come on, kid. Let’s go do damage control.”

~~~

A/N: You know, writing this made me headcanon that Bokoblins have truly excellent color vision.

Anyways, here's what all the colors mean;

Brown: Average Traveler // White: Sheikah // Red: Yiga // Blue: Hyrule’s Military // Green: Heroes

Blue-Green: Warriors // Red-Green: Legend // White-Green: Sky // The Leader: Time // Wolf-Pelt: Twilight // Youngling: Wind // Green-in-Disguise: Wild // Brown-Green: Hyrule // Four-Color: Four

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nights-legacy · 3 years ago

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Don't Hate It. - Shiggy

Main Masterlist MHA Masterlist

First time trying to hold their hand. Does it go right or wrong?

+Neither you nor Shigaraki were the type to hold hands. For some of the same reasons and some different. For one of Shiggy's, well obviously his quirk and for you, you were not the type to be all touchy feely in cutesy stuff. Neither of you were really the affectionate types. That is until a day comes that You need a little physical touch.

The day couldn't go by and end fast enough. Nothing was going right, I was nearly caught by some heroes, and to top it off, it started to storm. As soon as I walked in the door, I threw my soaked coat in some random direction. I shook my hair out, ignoring the displeased yell towards me.

"Ugh!" I threw myself into a booth completely annoyed with the world. My fingers aggressively rapped against the table top. I had been on edge all day, from the moment I woke up.

"Well some one's in a bad mood." A deep voice said from across the bar. I glanced toward the bar and saw the black hair male next to our leader. It surprised me to see him out of his room and away from his video games.

"Not now Dabi." I growled under my breath. A drink was placed in front of me and I saw the black purple Wisps out of the corner of my eye. I took a long drink before leaning back into my seat.

"Awe, is someone also a bit touchy? Oh, everyone! Look out!" He laughed. I rubbed my eyes before burying my face in my hands. I just felt like I really needed a hug, a loving touch, or something.

"Dadi just leave them alone." Kurogiri said.

"What? I'm not doing anything." He grumbled. I rolled my eyes and just took another drink. I heard an argument between multiple people ensue. I was left alone for a little while but I could feel eyes on me. Frustration was quickly growing in me. I looked up and around the room. Across the bar, there was a recruit that had been around for a few weeks with his eyes glued on me.

"Great. Him." I groaned and looked away. It was not even a minute and he was standing next to the table. "Can I help you with something?"

"Nooo... but I think I could help. Get those frustrations out I mean." He gave me a big smile which I'm sure he meant to be sexy but failed miserably.

"Really?" I asked sarcastically, unimpressed. He nodded, ignoring my sarcasm. He leant down so his face was close with mine.

"Really, really." He smirked. He reached to touch me. "I have so many ideas."

"Haha. Careful there, recruit." I warned, pushing his hand away. His touch was revolting. The frustration was about to snap.

"Oh come on, sweetie. Just come with me and..." He reached out again. I snapped. I shoved him back and shot out of my seat. He stumbled and I grabbed his neck tight. Black webbed out on his skin.

"Walk for a mile and then walk into traffic you pathetic nitwit." I growled. I shoved him away and he walked out the door. I sighed. That was the first time my quirk worked right allday. I finally noticed the room was silent. "Anyone else?" Gazes immediately moved away from me. Tears fought their way to the surface. I felt like I was going to fall apart, that there is nothing to hold me together.

"Y/N." A presence came up behind me.

"What!" I turned to see Shiggy next to me. His eyes went from me to the door. "I don't want to hear it! Can't you all just leave me alone for one goddamn minute!" I yelled, throwing my hands up and stomping off. I walked to an unused back hall and leant against a wall. There was a big window in front of me, showing me the storm outside.

"Y/N.." I jumped and yelled out. The tears finally broke though.

"What Tomura!?" I yelled. "I know I messed up so what could it be you are here for?" I slammed back into and slid down the wall. "Because it only seems that people come to me when they want something, want to tease on me, or make me their punching bag! So what possibly could you be here for! Huh?"

"Y/N."

"What?" I looked up and saw he was sitting next to me on my left. He reached up and pried my hand from my hair. I gasped because I didn't ever know I was doing it, the ache setting in. His next action shocked me more. He took my right hand in his left and began to rub circles. "Shigaraki?"

"Just take it." He slowly wrapped his right arm around my shoulders. I set my head on his shoulder cautiously. When he didn't react beyond pulling me in more, I let my full weight on him. I noticed he had on his two finger gloves and a small smile came to my face.

I gripped his hand and placed my other hand over his and traced random shapes. Underneath, I was soaking in all the soft attention and touches. Shiggy normally hated to wear the gloves so he never really did this soft stuff. Sure we've done some more spicy touching but never this.

"Thank you." I whispered. "I know you hate wearing the gloves."

"I don't hate wearing them. I just had no reason too." His raspy voice said softly into my ear. He moved his arm off my shoulder and brought it forward to set his other hand with the others. "Now I do."

"Huh?" I lifted my head to look at him.

"I am not a very... touchy person but with you I want to be. I just didn't know how to ask you." He said. "With anyone else, I'm not interested. But with you, I want to have everything.So I don't hate it."

"I feel the same." I admitted after a minute of silence. "I had to admit it to myself as well. I haven't been close enough to anyone in such a long time that I didn't know what to do."

"So we are meant for each other." He laughed and so did I.

"You know, if you hadn't sent that shit head on his way, I would have dusted him." I laughed hard, leaning into him more.

"I am just happy my quirk worked. It's been acting up all day." I held up my free hand. Black swirled on my fingertips. Tomura let go of my one hand and placed his finger tips against mine, all five. He tapped them before gently lacing his fingers with mine.

"Things happen and I will be... Will be here for you the best I can." He said. "I know I am far from a great man but..."

"If I wanted a great man, I would not be here." I said a matter of factly. He laughed. "The dark, brooding, crazy type that has a side obsession of video games myself. They're more fun."

"Damn. That specific, huh?" He asked.

"Actually, now that you mention it, I like them to have light blueish hair with a hand problem."

"Watch it." He warned with no threat behind it. "You know, now that I've gotter a taste of this I won't go back."

"Same." I tightened my grip on his hand."I hate to admit it but I need a little physical touch every now and then."

"I couldn't agree more." He whispered. I nearly fell asleep when a loud clash of thunder and lightning spooked us both. "Ugh! Can we, maybe move somewhere more comfortable than the floor?"

"Oh, fine you big baby." I got up and looked down at him expectedly. He got up and took my hand. I yawned as I've walked through the halls, hand in hand.

Tag list: @spicy-therapist-mom @dxnaii-rxse @princ3rae @iris-shihabi

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theggning · 4 years ago

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I Hate the Alternate Ending of Blind Betrayal, and Here's Why!

DISCLAIMER THE FIRST: Massive spoilers for Fallout 4 abound. This post discusses Blind Betrayal, a quest with suicide as a heavy theme. Content warning applies.

DISCLAIMER THE SECOND: This post discusses cut OFFICIAL content from Fallout 4 that has since been repurposed into multiple mods. I am not criticizing any modders or their implementations of this content. Mods are fun and people can enjoy whatever the hell kind of game experience they want with whatever mods they want.

I am ONLY interested in discussing the original cut content as Bethesda had written it, and how it would have impacted the story and lore of Fallout 4.

So, yeah, it seems there was originally going to be another way to conclude Blind Betrayal (BB).

As described in this Kotaku article (citing this post by Tumblr user tentacle-explosion,) there are unused audio files of Danse’s dialogue that show an alternate ending to his pivotal quest. These lines are the only evidence we have of this ending (suggesting that it was cut fairly early on, as no other actors/characters seem to have recorded for it.)

From what we can tell, in this alternate ending of BB, Danse comes up with a possible way out of the sticky situation re: his identity as a synth. According to the Brotherhood Litany, he is able to challenge Maxson’s authority as Elder via combat. If you agree to this idea, you go with Danse to challenge Maxson. The Paladin and the Elder duel one another, Danse wins, and Maxson dies. Then Danse names the Sole Survivor the new Elder-- or with a hard charisma check, you’re able to convince Danse to take the job himself. It is unknown how the main plot would have progressed beyond this point, as there is no other evidence of what being (or influencing) the Elder would have been like or what choices it would have given you.

There is understandable disappointment in learning that this ending was cut. Choices in games are great, and it could have been fun to have multiple different options for how to resolve the quest. In many gaming circles, people complain that this theoretical ending is superior to the one we got and shouldn’t have been axed. The Kotaku article calls it a “way better” ending, and you’ll see many players lamenting that it wasn’t implemented, saying Bethesda was bad at writing for cutting it, etc.

So why did Bethesda get rid of the Elder ending of BB?

In December 2020, after the Fallout 4 Cast Reunion, Danse’s voice actor Peter Jessop answered questions in a private signing session on his Instagram. Peter Jessop is an extremely kind and gracious man, an avid gamer, and a huge fan of Fallout. During the stream, he reflected on the alternate ending and remembered recording the lines, but stated the content was ultimately cut because Bethesda decided it was lore-breaking.

Peter Jessop is right. Bethesda was right. The Elder ending of BB is a bunch of dumb nonsense. It sucks, I hate it, and I’m glad they got rid of it. And now I’m going to tell you why!

SIDENOTE: King Shit of Fuck Mountain

There is no wrong way to play a single-player video game. If you are having fun, then you are accomplishing the task for which the game was made. Good for you! Play it on easy. Play it on hard. Mod it. Speedrun it. Make up an intricate roleplaying scenario. Perform “challenge” runs. Kill everybody you see. Ignore the story and run around collecting wheels of cheese. Games are meant to be fun and there is nothing wrong with enjoying a game however you damn well please. This is especially true for RPGs like Fallout, which are designed with player freedom in mind.

There is an RPG playstyle I like to call King Shit of Fuck Mountain: a naked power fantasy in which your protagonist is the most powerful person ever, even beyond normal RPG plot significance. Through brute strength, incredible charisma, or having completed tons of quests for world-breaking artifacts and weapons, your character wields godlike influence, able to control people, factions, and the fabric of the world itself. A game enables KSoFM gameplay when it allows the player limitless freedom to gain as much power as they like with zero consequences to plot or storytelling.

A great example of this is the Dragonborn in The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. If the player chooses to pursue every questline in the game, one single person can become Harbinger of the Companions, Archmage of the College of Winterhold, Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, Nightingale and Guildmaster of the Thieves’ Guild, hero of the Imperial/Stormcloak army, the chosen one of like, 11 different Daedric princes, a bard, a Blade, and otherwise just, absurdly goddamn powerful in completely unrealistic ways. And that’s not counting DLCs. A fully-kitted-out Dragonborn is King Shit of Fuck Mountain.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with playing KSoFM if you like to. But I’m not a big fan of this style, personally. Sure, my first Skyrim character became KSoFM while I was figuring out the game, but after my first playthrough I preferred my characters become coherent figures in the story of the world. I pick one or two character traits and things that my Dragonborn is good at, focus on them, and make them part of some overall story. My honorable Imperial paladin werewolf is in the Companions, and hunts vampires on principle. My Argonian sneaky archer is a gleeful thief, but would never jive with the College or the Dark Brotherhood. I like creating protagonists who fit into these settings immersively. I don’t care about power fantasies or being in charge. I don’t WANT my character to be all-powerful, because that ruins my immersion and my little story.

Additionally, in a plot-driven story-focused game like Fallout, KSoFM tears the narrative apart. Skyrim is fairly light on story, so the Dragonborn can be the leader of the Companions and the Dark Brotherhood and whatever other factions without any of them noticing or caring. But FO4’s themes, faction drama, and the main thrust of the plot don’t work at all if the Sole Survivor is able to become too powerful or too influential. The Sole Survivor cannot become the leader of every faction, solve every problem, or eliminate every inconvenient bend of the conflict because it makes the lore of the entire setting implode. Thus, the game forces you to choose between factions. You cannot be with the Minutemen and the Nuka-World Raiders. You cannot be with the Railroad and the Institute. And you cannot become Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel.

So if you’re the kind of person who loves playing KSoFM, if you like plots that your character can “solve” with relative ease, or if you just think it would be super cool for your Sole to become Elder regardless of surrounding storytelling, then you might think the Elder ending sounds super cool. You are absolutely allowed to disagree with me here. Install all the mods and write all the fic and have all the headcanons you like. I respect that. There is no wrong way to enjoy a single-player video game. Have fun!

But if you’re a big nitpicky pedantic lore nerd like me, a fan of cohesive storytelling, or if you just want to hear how the Elder ending of BB absolutely fucking ruins Maxson, Danse, the Brotherhood of Steel, and the entire plot of FO4 from a narrative perspective, read on!

1. The Synth Thing

The Elder ending requires the stupid plot contrivance of the BoS forgetting about Danse’s synthhood.

One of the biggest problems with the BoS as an institution is their strict and dogmatic beliefs, which include a widespread dislike of non-human species. Perhaps more than any other non-humans, the BoS hates synths. Synths are, in their eyes, machines given free will, a violation of the sanctity of human life and the ultimate example of technology run amok. To them, synths are not sympathetic, they are not slaves, and they are not victims of circumstance. They are weapons that left unchecked will destroy all of humanity for a second time. Synths are anathema to everything the BoS stands for, and finding out that one of their most beloved and trusted Paladins is one is an earth-shattering blow to their integrity and sense of security.

It is completely absurd that the BoS would allow a synth within their ranks, particularly as they are waging war against the Institute, who created synths in the first place. It is even MORE absurd that they’d allow one to influence their Elder, or even worse, to become Elder. It completely undermines their mission in the Commonwealth, and the core tenets of their extremely rigid beliefs. No matter the Elder, no matter the Litany or obscure BoS law, no matter how valuable the Sole Survivor is as a soldier or how much influence they wield. Danse is a synth. He’s the enemy. He is physically the embodiment of everything they hate.

Not only wouldn’t they trust a synth in general, but the BoS specifically believes that Danse is an infiltrator for the Institute. Even Danse believes that he is a danger, that the Institute may be able to take control of him and use him as a weapon. Sure, we know none of this is actually true, or possible, but the BoS don’t know that. And given how quick they are to order Danse dead without even the possibility of surrender, I don’t think there’s any charisma in the world that’s going to convince them otherwise.

According to Peter Jessop, this, ultimately, is the reason why the Elder ending was cut. He talks about it around the 11:30 timestamp in his Instagram stream, linked above:

“We recorded an ending where you keep Danse alive and you take over the Brotherhood. But there was a question of content… there’s no way the Brotherhood, once they knew he was a synth, would let him be even the right hand of the person in charge.”

Bethesda correctly recognized the incredible narrative contrivance for the BoS to shrug off the reason they’re trying to execute Danse in the first place. Whatever other beefs I have with this ending conceptually, they all come in second to just what a big dumb leap it is to get beyond this first and most important problem.

2. The Complete Death of Conflict

The Elder ending of BB destroys the conflict of the quest, and potentially the conflict of the entire game.

Greed is a poison. There is no such thing as a perfect ideal or a perfect organization. Power corrupts. Humanity has the choice to build back better. War never changes. The Fallout games are full of themes, depicted by the characters and quests and factions we play out.

Blind Betrayal is rightfully praised as one of the most powerful quests in FO4. Not only is it well-acted, but it puts the player in a very difficult position. The BoS has given you clout and glory and free power armor and lots of firepower, but now you see the price: unquestioning obedience. You are ordered to execute your friend and mentor Danse for the mere fact he is a synth. Are you going to follow that unjust order? Are you willing to give up your principles on command? Or is this where you can no longer stay quiet and stay in line?

To be honest, I’ve always thought the fact you can talk Maxson out of killing Danse but still remain with the BoS in good standing was a cop-out. BB goes 90% of the way to forcing you to choose between a companion and a faction, and then chickens out at the last second to let you have both, if your charisma is high enough.

(I believe this has the fingerprints of Skyrim’s development on it-- Bethesda’s writers got nervous about doing another Paarthurnax choice involving the fan favorite Brotherhood of Steel. That’s right. Danse is the Paarthurnax of Fallout. Frankly, I understand why they chose not to go there, but damn, wouldn’t it have been wild? You want to run with the BoS? Then kill your friend and feel the burn. THIS is what it means to follow orders without question.

As for me, I’d pick Danse every time and sleep soundly without the company of shitty bootlicking dieselpunk LARPers- but I digress.)

Anyway, you know what would have REALLY been a copout? If the game asked you to make a difficult thematic storyline choice, and you solved the problem by just not choosing at all.

You are supposed to feel uncomfortable when Maxson orders you to kill Danse, because the game is telling a story about how it is maybe a bad thing to thoughtlessly follow orders without question. It is asking you to think about what the BoS is, what they are doing, and how they are going to run things, if you choose to let them “win” the Commonwealth. It is pointing out that there is no room for gray in the BoS’ black and white. That a good, loyal man may die because of the way he was made, through no action of his own. That soon, you’ll be killing other people on command. The Railroad. Fleeing Institute synths and scientists. Others, down the line. It all depends on who’s giving the orders. Are you going to follow those orders?

Eesh, that sounds thought-provoking and unpleasant and difficult! Let’s just skip it by killing Maxson and making ourselves the boss. Now we get to tell everybody else what to do!

It’s unknown what powers the Elder ending would have granted the player, or how it would have interacted with the other factions. There is speculation that you’d have been able to ease back on the BoS’ dogmatism, or change some of the later events of the game. For instance, perhaps you could talk the BoS down from attacking the Railroad, sparing popular characters like Glory and Deacon who must die in the normal BoS storyline. Perhaps you could have made the BoS a kinder, gentler faction and directed them to run the way you want them to.

If this was indeed the case, then the Elder ending would not only suck the gravitas out of BB, but torpedo the entire main plot.

If you can get rid of any and all downsides to siding with the BoS, why in the hell would players side with anybody else? With the player given total power, the BoS becomes a perfect faction with no drawbacks, no weaknesses, no tough decisions to be made. Screw slumming it with the Railroad or the Minutemen, let’s take over the BoS. Free power armor and a giant robot! Forget the whole intolerance thing, I hereby proclaim the BoS No Longer Problematic! Now to force all the factions to get along, completely removing all conflict and nuance from the plot!

That’s some real anticlimactic “tell Legate Lanius to go home and then he does it” bullshit right there. King Shit of Fuck Mountain!

Look, it might be nice if there was a perfect path like that to take through the game. It would be cool if our characters could be that powerful and the game was that tailored to our individual choices. On the other hand, “I change all the factions to suit my exact liking” might be a fun idea for a fanfic, but it’s an incredibly boring plot for a video game. “I get to make everything in the world exactly how I want it” is Minecraft, not a story-driven RPG with a complex and intricate plot.

It would be great if complex conflicts could really be solved that easily and effortlessly, but hey, you know what? War never changes.

3. The Assassination of Arthur Maxson (Literal)

Arthur Maxson’s death is too significant and fundamentally disastrous for the Elder ending to make any sense at all.

Hero, villain, leader, monster, tortured soul, brutal dictator, immature twerp, bearded sex hunk. However you personally interpret Arthur Maxson, there is no denying that he is a venerated, popular, beloved figure in the BoS. He is the blood heir of the organization’s founder, a powerful warrior, a brilliant tactician, and a charismatic negotiator. He is responsible for reuniting the East Coast BoS with the Outcasts, leading the new, stronger BoS with a sense of shared purpose. There is a damn good reason his name is Arthur and he named his ship The Prydwen, echoes of King Arthur and the legends of his glorious kingdom of Camelot. Arthur Maxson is so beloved that many view him as a demigod, a messiah sent to lead the BoS into a mighty and prosperous future.

So I’m sure nobody’s going to be upset when some wasteland jackass recruited a month ago stumbles in with a synth, kills him, and takes over his job. Right?

It doesn’t matter that it’s “honorable.” It doesn’t matter that it’s done “by the book” via obscure BoS rules. There is no codex or litany or rule so binding that it’s going to overcome the cult of personality around Maxson. There is no way that the BoS is going to accept the death of Arthur Maxson, a man whose reverence borders on worship, especially not when he is immediately replaced by a wastelander, or a synth.

The death of Arthur Maxson removes the unifying glue that’s been holding the BoS together since mending the rift with the Outcasts. Maxson’s death eliminates the one person that both sides of that conflict agreed could steer the organization in the right direction. Some level heads may try to keep the focus on the mission and the Brotherhood tenets, but Maxson loyalists will never forgive the new Elder for his death, and that amount of passionate righteous anger will not be quelled by appeals to the rules. The new Elder’s war on the Institute is basically over before it begins, when the forces splinter and start infighting over the change in leadership.

And this is if the new Elder lives long enough to actually give any orders. I give them around 24 hours after the duel before some angry Maxson loyalist “accidentally” pulls the trigger and “tragically” empties a clip into their back.

24 seconds, if it’s Elder Danse, the dirty synth abomination.

4. The Assassination of Arthur Maxson (Figurative)

The Elder ending of BB falsely pretends that Arthur Maxson is the biggest and only problem with the BoS.

In the Elder ending, as written, the conflict of BB is considered completely and totally solved by the death of Arthur Maxson. The core problem, that Danse is a synth and considered an enemy by the BoS, has not gone away. But by getting rid of Maxson, this apparently no longer matters. Nobody else is going to take offense to Danse’s nature or protest his presence. Nobody else is going to attack him or try to follow through with Maxson’s prior orders. Nope, that meanybutt guy who gave the order is gone, and everybody else is going to welcome Danse back into the fold like nothing ever happened.

I touched on this a little bit on an ask about Maxson a few weeks back, but a lot of people seem to believe that the FO4 Brotherhood of Steel is the way they are purely because of him. That he is the one making them treat non-humans as second class citizens at best, and enemies to be slaughtered at worst. That it’s his fault the BoS is so vehemently against synths and the Institute. That he is the one influencing their imperialistic tendencies, and treating the Commonwealth like territory to be conquered and people to be ruled over by their betters.

He’s not. That’s the Brotherhood of Steel, guys.

The charitable, altruistic, virtuous BoS that many of us met for the first time in FO3 were outliers. Lyons’ group was literally disowned by the rest of the faction because their kindness to wastelanders had gone so far astray from the “core” tenets. The BoS as a whole has always been exclusive, isolated, and seen themselves as “superior” to the average wastelander. They have long disliked or outright hated non-humans (and even Lyons’ BoS in FO3 use ghouls, feral or not, for “target practice” if they get too close!) The rigid dogmatism of the BoS is not something that Arthur Maxson started, but has always been part of their fabric.

Now, it’s true that Maxson is absolutely going hard on the BoS tenets, and extremely dedicated to upholding them. His BoS are the way they are and act the way they act because he believes that this is the way it should be. Is it possible that a different leader may be a little more flexible? Absolutely. Could a skilled Elder eventually show them the benefits of a softer approach and a more generous worldview? Totally. Is getting rid of Maxson and replacing him going to make that happen overnight, or going to make the rest of the BoS who supported him shrug and follow suit?

Nope.

Blaming Arthur Maxson for everything unsavory about the Brotherhood is unfair to him and also foolishly ignoring the deep, massive problems that are far older than he is-- problems that plenty of its members wholeheartedly believe are not problems at all. Getting rid of Maxson does not make the BoS kinder or gentler. Even pretending Maxson isn’t as personally beloved as he is, any new Elder who steps in and starts trying to fundamentally alter the way the BoS operates and what they believe in is going to face some major, immediate pushback.

Like, a full clip of bullets in the back type of pushback.

In the face if it’s Elder Danse, the godless freak of nature.

5. The Un-Redemption of Paladin Danse

Last, and my personal least favorite!

At first glance, Paladin Danse is a steely jackboot, a die-hard Brotherhood loyalist who fully and firmly believes in their cause. Many immediately dismiss him as a humorless brute, or completely ignore him because they think that’s all there is. But if you spend any time with Danse at all, you’ll notice a sort of weariness in him. He is tired, overworked, and his years of service are starting to weigh on him. He has watched friends, comrades, and mentors die in horrible and gruesome ways, and he suffers from PTSD. Though he has always been told that his own sacrifices, the sacrifices of his brothers and sisters have been” worth it,” he’s starting to question if that’s true.

After telling of the incident where he personally executed his best friend Cutler, who’d been turned into a super mutant, the Sole Survivor is able to console him:

Player Default: You did the right thing. Danse: {Somber} It's what I was taught. I don't know if it was right.

This line is an excellent summary of Danse’s entire character arc. He learns to question whether to believe what the Brotherhood has taught him, or to believe in himself. His gut feelings. His sense of justice and his own ideas of what’s right and wrong.

(In the interest of not turning this into an essay about Danse’s character, I won’t even get into how this also applies to his beliefs about his worth as a person. But keep in mind, that dimension is there, Danse just covers it up by making everything about the Brotherhood.)

During Blind Betrayal, after getting the orders to execute him and hearing Haylen’s plea for mercy, we may expect Danse to be ready to fight back or flee. But when you confront him in the bunker at Listening Post Bravo, he’s compliant and suicidal. Danse is so deeply poisoned by the BoS’ rhetoric that his own feelings or will to live don’t factor into the conversation. He demands that you follow your orders and execute him, because he believes, as the BoS does, that all synths are dangerous and must be destroyed.

Danse: {Stern} Synths can't be trusted. Machines were never meant to make their own decisions, they need to be controlled. Technology that's run amok is what brought the entire world to its knees and humanity to the brink of extinction.

{Confident} I need to be the example, not the exception.

Through various dialogue options, if your charisma is high enough, you are able to talk Danse off the ledge. He is able to consider, at least, that the BoS’ merciless judgment of him is wrong and that what he was taught isn’t right. He is a thinking, feeling, self-aware synth, and that makes him as much a person as any human. Danse is no danger to humanity-- and maybe, most synths aren’t either.

Danse is an example, not an exception.

Later on, if you manage to get him out of BB alive, Danse shows further acceptance of his nature. His approvals about synths begin to soften slightly (or many of them do, at least… it’s not perfect.) He is still struggling with his identity and reconciling it with his former hatred, but his dialogue suggests that he’s on the road to being more open-minded and understanding. Along with this, Danse learns that he has value as a person beyond the Brotherhood. He no longer needs to define himself with BoS beliefs or judge himself by how useful he is to them. He learns that he is worth caring about, worth being friends with or being loved because of who he is-- not what he is, in any regard.

[SIDENOTE: Many players, myself included, are frustrated that Danse’s arc leaves off sort of midstream there. Due to the open-ended nature of the game, we don’t get a real conclusion to his arc-- even though much of his idle dialogue doesn’t change and he still espouses pro-BoS sentiments ( an unfortunate by-product of writing for a video game) there is every indication that he’s started down the right path, but understandably has a ways to go.

Also, Peter Jessop agrees with us.]

Meanwhile, in the Elder ending, Danse doesn’t get a redemption. His entire character arc, actually, hits the skids and does a total 180.

He never leaves the BoS. So scratch the need for Danse to ever think about himself as separate from them. He never needs to question what they’ve taught him or whether they’re right or wrong. He never needs to find any worth in himself beyond his use to the BoS. Why would he? He might be the Elder. The BoS is all he needs to care about anymore. The BoS is all he ever needs to be, ever again.

And I think, most horrifying of all, this Danse never needs to change his mind about synths. On the contrary, one of the surviving dialogue files includes Danse’s speech to reassure the rest of the BoS of his stance:

Danse: I want to make one thing clear to everyone. This body might be synth, but my heart and mind belong to the Brotherhood. The Institute is still a tremendous threat to the Commonwealth. They possess technologies that need to be confiscated or destroyed. And even if that means I have to pull the trigger on my own kind, I’m willing to make that sacrifice.

Elder ending Danse doesn’t grow more understanding on the nature of synths. He doesn’t accept that synths are people, or anything more than technology run amok. He won’t even accept that for himself. Elder Maxson wasn’t wrong about synths-- they’re the enemy and they need to be destroyed.

But, see, he was wrong about Danse. It’s okay for Danse to exist in spite of his nature. It’s okay for him to never fully accept his own personhood, and to outright deny it to his kind. Because his body is a machine, but he’s different from the rest because his heart and mind belong to the Brotherhood.

He’s the exception, not the example.

CONCLUSION:

The Elder ending of Blind Betrayal is dumb, contrived, stakeless, character-derailing powergaming crap at its finest and I’ll happily dance on its grave.

People give Bethesda a lot a shit for their writing-- whether it be stuff they left out, stuff they left in, or stuff that they never, ever could have made work due to the limitations of writing for a video game. Plenty of it is well-deserved, or at least worth a discussion. But from the minute I found out about its existence, I have always wanted to extend a congratulations to Bethesda for cutting the alternate Elder ending of Blind Betrayal. It was a good choice. A very good choice to cut a very dumb plot that would have fundamentally altered the story they were telling, and characters that I’ve grown to love. I think the writers deserve some credit and a hearty handshake for the wisdom of this decision.

Now as for why Nick Valentine isn’t romanceable--

#fallout 4 #fallout meta #paladin danse #arthur maxson #blind betrayal #this one was a long time coming #any thematic resemblance to any fics of mine is a coincidence #the blind betrayal manifesto #king shit of fuck mountain #the initial intrigue of the idea wears off if you think about it more than not at all

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