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fanfiction-funtime · 3 years ago

Note

IM SORRY IVE BEEN SLACKING ON HYPING YOU UP

Anyway I’m reading through the Things ™ and wow

Can I request something? There’s an idea I’ve been pondering for a bit. You know already who I’ll ask for, I’m guessing.

What if the reader fell for Xiao in Genshin, in a state where they constantly daydream about him. Rather than working on scenarios and scenes, it happens in real time.

Meanwhile, in another universe, Xiao in a modern setting has fallen for a Genshin character- the reader. He daydreams about them in the same manner.

To the reader, their Xiao is a guardian yaksha, Golden adeptus, and doombane itself.

To Xiao, his (y/n) is something just as exalted. I tend to use a seelie, since they’re an immortal race of ancient and now weak gods.

What they both don’t know is that they’re actually meeting in those daydreams. It’s not just imagination and the longing for company, but an actual relationship with another person.

Bonus points if it’s some sort of soulmate au and they physically can’t find each other and eventually realize it.

I’ve never told anyone about this before, and I’m excited to see what you do with it! I might work with it one day, just not yet.

(Hoo boy, this will be tough, but I'm sure I can do it! Xiao might be a bit ooc as I'm getting his personality from wiki and fanon, as well as modern au [hopefully] gives him less trauma and a slightly different personality.)

(Also, I can't do sad endings. So a bit of deus ex OC at the 3rd part)

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Your game

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Your pov: the dream eater of your dreams

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You are (y/n)(l/n), and you are in the saddest love story this side of the lake.

Ever since you saw him in that first quest you were in love!

You were just a teen though, so it wasn't real right? After all, your red string wasn't connected to the screen.

Well, your string isn't connected to anything...

Y-your just a late bloomer though right?

(Ten years later)

Your now in your twenties and you still love Xiao!

He permeates your thoughts like how lovers do, you feel an inexplicable hurt in your chest similar to what many describe feeling when they see their soulmate prior to their string appearing, not to mention whenever you aren't busy you feel like you're...slipping...in...in and...

[Daydream]

It was happening again.

It was like a daydream but more...real.

Like a lucid dream.

You saw your string, just like so many other times, and you followed it.

You ran and ran, turquoise clouds parting and making paths for you to find him.

Him..

You ran and ran, glad that atleast in some way your delusions can give you some semblance of true love.

You saw the..wait..that's not the inn.

Well it is the inn, but more modern. And there was a school next to it, and a small village not far away.

Another of thing was that you were in some kind of yellow armor, it reminded you of those baby geovisnaps from genshin impact(that are absolutely BULL-)

You went into the elevator, which seemed more ancient than usual.

And when you reached the balcony, you saw him. But he was different.

Instead of the Yaksha you usually saw, you were greeted by an equally shocked man in a martial arts gi. But it was him.

But different.

You reached out, and he did the same.

And you touched

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Xiao's pov: the midsummer knight of his dreams

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(Clarifying: in this version Liyue is based on European mythology and aesthetic while Mondstadt is based on Chinese. So you are a fae hunting knight rather than a demon hunting yaksha)

Xiao had always been reserved, but what happened to him as a kid drew him further into his shell.

Abusive parents, accidentally giving his sister trauma induced amnesia, he felt the weight of his actions like atlas feels the world on his shoulders.

Luckily, two people took him and his sister QiQi in: QiQi's doctor Baizhu, and Xiao's therapist(and Baizhu's husband) Morax.

It was difficult to come out, even after Xiao stopped feeling so at fault. So he mostly stayed in his room and played video games.

That is until he met you.

Well met is the wrong word here.

He saw your character in his world's version of genshin impact: tribunal eruption

The way you used your weapon, the way your armor shined in the night as you rode to his wanderer. The smile you gave as he handed you (favourite food).

But most of all, the way you used fighting styles from so many martial arts and hand to hand combat techniques.

From irish kickboxing to karate, from assassination arts in ancient history of japan to systema.

It awoken two things in him: first was his want to learn martial arts and make his own.

The second was his love for you.

But don't worry, your physical attributes only drew him in. Your personality made him stay.

Years went on, he became a martial arts instructor for his own style, and moved into an apartment near a small village.

He started teaching at a school nearby, he even gets a discount on rent for giving free lessons to the owner's sons, Ivan and Viktor.

He's also convinced those two have a crush on him but it's pointless.

After all, he was a dream eater, a common group of people who have a strange ability to find their soulmate.

Specifically, the ability to have "lucid daydreams" where they meet their soulmate.

But he must be defective. After all his soulmate kept appearing as...well you. As a knight that would meet him on the balcony every night.

He assumed maybe it was your voice actor or designer, but neither of them have had the lucid daydreams.

He began thinking he'd never find his soulmate

Until one daydream...

He was on the balcony again, like a prince awaiting his knight to rescue him.

But it was different.

The apartment complex he lived in now looked much smaller, as did the tree it was built around, and the building looked far more ancient in design yet so much younger in age.

And the village and school nearby aren't there anymore.

Oddest change of all is that his gi he was wearing just a second ago is now similar to the outfit warn by the mondstadt demon slayer Corps

And when you arrived at the balcony, he noticed a red string, one that connected your heart to his. But you weren't wearing your armor, you were wearing casual, modern clothes.

He knew it was stupid, after all you can't touch your soulmate in the daydreams. But he felt compelled to....to reach out and..

You touched him.

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nothing never comes between you, and nobody helps you get together

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(3rd person pov)

He really did find it annoying, how often mortals would find themselves in the wrong dimension, especially when it's because the writer wants drama. And now he's written in to solve the problem.

Ah well, it's his job.

(2nd person pov)

You didn't know how to feel. You were touching Xiao...and you weren't waking up. Was this...real?

"You... you're real...different but....still the person I love...." Xiao seemed to be equally in a trance at the prospect

"yeah...so are you..."

The armor you wore melted away, and you cant see it but Xiao's fictional clothes melted from him as well. You were both equally real, in your own reality.

But you knew it couldn't last.

"When the daydream ends, I wont be able to see you anymore," Xiao said with a sea of tears in his eyes, "We've actually met now...and now...now the dreams will end."

You lean into him, "then let's make this dream the best one we've ever had."

Your about to kiss when-

"Terribly sorry about this!" A childlike voice called, "you know, interrupting your moment and all that. See for the sake of narrative, you both were put in separate universes. And it's my job to give you a happy ending."

When you both looked, you saw a child made of bone climbing into reality from some kind of hole.

"Now just wait a moment aaannnd-"

The turquoise clouds cleared, and the world rippled into a conjoined reality between genshin impact and tribunal eruption.

"Welcome to your dream world, enjoy eternal love!" The child said as he crawled back into the hole and it closed.

When he was gone, you both observed the world around you: a beautiful mix of aesthetics surrounded you, and both your armor and his adeptus clothing were on you both.

You gazed into eachother's eyes.

He placed one hand on your cheek while another held your hand, "I'm not good with speaking..speaking my emotions..but I....maybe my actions can do that for me..."

You felt your red string radiate with the warmth of love, likewise Xiao felt his daydreams dissipate like a haze leaving his mind.

You grab his hand and place your free hand on his cheek, mirroring his love, as you always have.

"Xiao...your very existence tells me all I need to hear.."

You both leaned in, and kissed.

Two lovers, in a dream made reality,

A paradise for all eternity.

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I feel it kinda fell apart with the deus ex, but I think I scraped it back together in the end!

I hope it's good enough for what you envisioned buddy, I tried my best!

(Also I think you deserve something just as good as what happens to the reader insert in this fic, story)

(Tagging: @golden-wingseos (this is the writing blog for someone you told to tag you), and @storytravelled (just to keep the idea of tagging in mind))

#i will explain some choices in a reblog #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin #genshin impact #xiao #genshin xiao #xiao x reader

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tolkien-feels · 3 years ago

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So @theleakypen said this a while ago

And I, being both a simple person who will take any excuse to talk about Rosie Cotton, and a busy person who really shouldn't be writing essays about anything, decided to compromise by giving the tldr version of a hypothetical essay

I’ll be the first to admit there's very little Rosie canon, so anything said about her is up for discussion. But then again, the same goes for a lot of Tolkien characters and that’s never stopped anyone from conjecturing, so I won’t let it stop me either.

I actually want to begin this with something that’s not clear-cut canon: the unpublished epilogue. More precisely, a part of it that is referenced in RotK:

Master Samwise stood at the door and looked away eastward. He drew Mistress Rose to him, and set his arm about her.

‘March the twenty-fifth!’ he said. ‘This day seventeen years ago, Rose wife, I didn’t think I should ever see thee again. But I kept on hoping.’

‘I never hoped at all, Sam,’ she said, ‘not until that very day and then suddenly I did. About noon it was, and I felt so glad that I began singing. And mother said: ‘Quiet, lass! There’s ruffians about.’ And I said: ‘Let them come! Their time will soon be over. Sam’s coming back.’ And you came.’

‘I did,’ said Sam. ‘To the most belovedest place in all the world. To my Rose and my garden.’

I’ll skip over Rosie’s inexplicable intuition (though of course that’s an important Tolkien trope, and usually reserved for particularly special characters), and just focus on the actual events of the day. According to Rosie, she thought Sam was dead, but suddenly (though it made no logical sense), she began to sing in defiance of evil, with bold, sudden hope. Now, is it me or have we heard this story before? Anyone remember Sam refusing to bid the stars farewell and singing in the tower of Cirith Ungol? What about Fingon harping a song of Valinor in Morgoth’s own realm? And of course, Luthien singing in Tol-in-Gaurhoth is legendary. Songs of hope in defiance of evil after the loss of a loved one are. A pattern. But Rosie bends this pattern in two very significant ways.

The first is that the lost one is supposed to answer the song. That’s the whole point of it! That’s how they’re found! But Rosie’s song goes unanswered. For me, that really changes my reading of her half-serious impatience when Sam finally returns to the Shire (”You haven’t hurried, have you?”) - at first I had just assumed this showed just how little hobbits of the Shire understand the Quest, and while I still think that plays a large part, there’s more to it. Tolkien’s very worldbuilding rules dictate that Sam should come back to her when she sings, but he takes forever to do that, and all the while Rosie isn’t sure if her hope will pay off. I can see where she’s coming from with her impatience!

The other way Rosie breaks the pattern is that she doesn’t play the role of rescuer. Or at least it’s not immediately obvious that she does. But I think Rosie does rescue Sam in a way, from the darkness of the Quest and the horror of finding the Shire so changed by the Scouring. Thinking along these lines, I can’t help but think of Luthien healing the winter of Thingol with the touch of her hand. Perhaps Rosie does something similar. Unlike Luthien, Rosie belongs to the aftermath of a great quest. She belongs to the part of the story where the land is turned green by the happy couple -- which, in a way, Sam does, and I see no reason why Rosie doesn’t help in her own way, though the book never openly mentions it.

I’d even risk saying that besides the Silmarillion, LotR itself presents a parallel: Rosie and Sam are a smaller scale of Arwen and Aragorn (who are a small scale of Luthien and Beren, who are a small scale of Melian and Thingol...) Not only do both of these LotR relationships go way back to events that happen before the story, but they also seem to both represent the same hard work of building up what was torn down by the war.

In a letter, Tolkien once mentioned that "I think the simple ‘rustic’ love of Sam and his Rosie (nowhere elaborated) is absolutely essential to the study of his (the chief hero’s) character, and to the theme of the relation of ordinary life (breathing, eating, working, begetting) and quests, sacrifice, causes, and the ‘longing for Elves’, and sheer beauty."

Rosie, in her very ordinary, humble way, is no less important than Melian and Luthien and Arwen - she's both a symbol of hope and a bringer of life. Far from just being an afterthought to give Sam a happy ending, she is herself part of the Quest. Frodo set out to save the Shire - she stays behind and eventually saves it too by making it the green, sweet place it is meant to be.

In all of this, I don’t mean to make Rosie some kind of... extraordinary, queenly, fated person. Much like Sam, I think the entire point of her character is the heroism of ordinary people. She doesn’t have to be outstanding in every way to be important.

I could probably keep going and talk about how whatever little we know of her personality points to her being rather similar to Sam (listens to stories with shining eyes, thinks highly of Frodo, treats courage and loyalty as a matter of common-sense, very practical, close to her family), but this is already longer than I meant it to be so I’ll leave it at that.

#i'm eyeballing it but i think this must be like a thousand words #i can't believe i accidentally wrote an essay anyway

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ja-khajay · 3 years ago

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Stuff I read (and liked) this year

As promised, here’s a list of the novels, comics, manga, etc... I read this year, focusing on the ones I enjoyed and would recommend to people. Under a cut, this is going to be a little long.

-------- Books --------

Favorite book of the year: Stranger in the Woods, by Michael Finkel

Non-fiction. Based on the interviews of the man himself by the author, it is about a man who felt so unfit for society he decided one day to leave it, and spent the next 28 years as a hidden hermit in forest in Maine. The book details how he survived there, how he was eventually found, and some of his reasons for doing so. It’s a great reflection on the nature of loneliness.

Indian creek, by Pete Fromm

...Yet another detailed tale of living alone in the woods. This time, the diary of a student who spent a winter in the mountains to help tend for salmon hatchlings, and how he spent the rest of his days hiking, hunting, meeting the locals. It’s a fun little book who, being set almost the whole world away from where I live, was a nice way to travel.

Howl’s Moving Castle, by Diana Wynne Jones

I don’t feel the need to explain this one since everyone and their mom has seen the movie adapted from it. The book, that I first read a decade ago before I actually watched the film, is a less romantized, more spirited telling of the same story. The writing is absolutely delightful and so is the world it paints, and it’s the first time in ages a book had me laughing out loud during my entire read.

-------- Comics (BD) --------

Favorite comic of the year: Monsieur Désire?, by Hubert and Virginie Augustin

A discreet young woman becomes a maid for a decadent, unbearable, byronesque young lord. Caked in the rigid and oppressive social hierarchy of the victorian era, you follow a mental and verbal joust between the two, as the lord tries his best to offend and corrupt his new unrelenting servant, to little success. The writing and especially the dialogues were stellar, drawing me into the tense atmosphere, watching this trainwreck of a character flamboyantly destroy himself. While there’s no precise content warnings that I can give, this is a mature and heavy story.

World of Edena, by Moebius

Anyone who’s followed this blog for over a month knows how much of a Moebius fan I am. Edena combines the vague, dreamlike, wordless storytelling from stuff like Arzach or The cat’s eyes with an actual plot. While I haven’t completly finished the story, the evolution of the main characters and how the story is told have been great to read through, and as always the art is beyond gorgeous. Unfortunately suffers from some good old sexism in the writing that even if minimal, tasted sour

Le roman de Renart, by Joan Sfar (book 1)

Sfar’s work always has a signature vibe of being dreamy and light without being light hearted, of being down to earth but drifting in the fantastical, and this one is no exception. It’s an adaption of a series of medieval folk tales I grew up with, who uses the same characters to tell an original story. If you’re familiar with icons like Renart as well as other mythological big boys like Merlin you’ll fit right in. There is something special in how the dialogues are written, who feel natural in a way that you’d overhear in a street corner and is very special to me.

The mercenary, by VIncente Segrelles

Another one I post about a lot on this blog. The mercenary is a king on the throne of fantasy cheese. The worldbuilding is interesting at times but the writing is a pretty pathetic display of glorious old time sword and sorcery sci-fantasy 10 years too late for it’s prime (warning for ye old sexism and orientalism that plagues the genre, cranked very high...) but you come and stay for the art. The entire thing is drawn in a series of hyper detailed oil paintings with an insane eye for technical detail, from the engineering of the weaponry, to the architecture and weather, to the anatomy of the fantasy creatures... Each panel stands out as it’s own painting which makes even flipping through it without reading the scenario a treat. Click here to see more of the art, in my Segrelles tag.

The ice maurauder, by Jacques Tardi

A short story about mad scientists entirely drawn like a 19th century engraving. In great Tardi tradition everyone is ugly and mean, it ends terribly, it’s both a hommage to the genre of late 19th cent. to early 1900s dramatic adventure novels and a critical eye on it, and it’s morbidly funny. Most people I saw online hated the way this was written but I’m not them and I really recommend this book. Die mad

-------- Manga --------

Favorite manga of the year: it’s a tie between the following two.

Cats of the Louvre, by Taiyo Matsumoto

Most wonderful comic I have read in ages. The story follows a bunch of semi-feral cats secretly living in the Louvre museum’s attic, and the small group of humans who share their life, walking through the museum as the night watch. When the cats are together, they are represented in a humanoid way, but still act like animals, and “become” cats again when a human is nearby. The plot is a sort of supernatural mystery centered around a kitten who walks around paintings. It’s a love letter to art, sincere and beautiful, with a unique art style and great characters.

Memoirs of amorous Gentlemen, by Moyoco Anno

A sex worker in early 20th century paris starts writing down a diary of the clients she meets, in a quest to cope with the troubles of her life. You follow her, her colleagues, and her bittersweet relationship with an abusive lover. I don’t have much words about this comic, but the art and writing both are amazing, it’s the perfect length and drew me in like little series had before. Obvious content warnings as this is an adult story that talks about sexuality, but also depicts both mental and physical abuse.

Hana, also by Taiyo Matsumoto

A very short story, this was not made to be read as a comic originally, but served as storyboarding and visual development for a play, and the way it is written follows that. Hana is a slice of life story set in a fantasy world, of a young boy, his family, his village. Despite the setting being an original one, the character interactions are refreshingly... normal, and there is no huge plot to speak of, just a bit of the life of these characters. The art is beautiful, entirely black and white, with a scratchy style and an emphasis on contrast. Matsumoto is on a speedy road to becoming my favorite manga artist haha

Delicious in Dungeon, by Ryoko Kui

While not marked as my year’s favorite, I still consider this series among my favorite manga ever. The art and writing are amazing, and it’s both heartfelt, well concieved and plain hilarious. The story follows several parties of dungeon diving adventurers each on their little quests with a premise of our protagonists, on a panic rescue mission, surviving in the dungeon by cooking and eating the monsters they come across. From a DnD party turned cooking manual dinner of the week beginning, the plot creeps up on you and slowly thickens. I don’t want to spoil anything about the overarching story of this because it was a delight to discover for myself. While everything about DinD rules, I am especially fond of the design philosophy of the author, who puts great detail in the practicality and biology of what she draws, as well as the character writing. Everyone even side characters has so much charm and depth to them, the cast is so diverse and entertaining...! Each character is just a bit lame enough but endearing, and has their own little backstory that shows in the way they exist. It’s a delight

Chainsaw man, by Tatsuki Fujimoto

I went into CSM expecting a borderline campy hyperviolent dumb fun thing to read and was very surprised to find an uncomfortably well written story about a teenager being groomed. The hyperviolent dumb fun fights are here nonetheless and the series still qualifies as shonen for some reason, but the more mature character writing as well as some truly outlandish visuals make it something very special. If you can’t stand shonen, not sure you will like it, but if you don’t mind it, worth trying.

Witch hat atelier, by Kamome Shirahama

The oh so elegant fantasy seinen every cool kid started posting about this year, who I also succumbed to and fast. Witch hat is hard to explain, as most of it’s plot revolves around the rules of the world it’s set in, specifically the regulations around it’s magic and the social and historical reasons for them. It’s about growing up, learning, disability, making art. You follow a little girl taken in by a witch as an apprentice, her magical education, and learn little by little why her lovely teacher is so willing to break a lot of rules... While a bit too gentle and pretty for my taste at times, Witch hat has great worldbuilding and explores sensitive themes I rarely see in manga, much less in fantasy. And Berserk wishes it had art this good

#j #long post

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xingyanp · 4 years ago

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A Fiddler's Dream

Inspired by and owe the idea to this post by @avatoh. (I must say that I totally agree with the GIF.)

Warning for horror element. 👻

It was a sunny afternoon in the sleepy town. Little Hobbs followed the old man and the clattering of his cane and a folding chair, hugging the violins, one noticeably smaller than the other. They arrived at an alleyway glowing under orange beams of the setting sun.

Bigger hands, roughened by the marks of age, gently held his smaller, smoother ones, guiding the bow strokes and delicate fingers on the strings. As the mini-fiddle vibrated under his chin, Hobbs breathed in the mild aroma of wood and rosin. Later, the elderly man played and little Hobbs mimicked; or, they played together, or by turns, filling the quiet alley with sweet melodies, lively, melancholic, grandiose, pastoral, all familiar to his ears. Little Hobbs had listened to the old fiddler playing in the streets for so many weekends. And, afterwards, it would be his violin lesson, then he would run home with his mini-fiddle, made just for him.

Until one day, he waited and waited, but the fiddler never came.

Across the busy streets of Whitechapel, PC Hobbs and several others were in hot pursuit. They drew closer, and Hobbs sprang forward, smashing squarely into someone but tackling the criminal just in time. He helped the unfortunate pedestrian up after a swift arrest, only to look into the haggard face of an old fidder. The old man grabbed him by the arms and started calling him Richard, my darling angel, frantically asking where he had been, if he was okay...

“Uh, um, I'm fine, sir, as you see…”

A childhood friend he might be, but the ecstasy in the old man's eyes was a tinge too wild, and the frail-looking hands were hooked onto Hobbs’s sleeves. So Hobbs half-led half-dragged him back to the police station and to the front desk, where Sergeant Artherton gave the scruffy clothes and shabby violin case a long, judging look under his glasses, while Hobbs explained their awkward encounter.

“Hobbs!! To the telegraph room, now!” The inspector, as usual, came in running and yelling. Artherton gave Hobbs an understanding nod: leave this to me, go to Reid.

In the evening, Hobbs visited the front desk after his shift, curious of what had become of the old fiddler--who sat quietly on the bench and came obediently to the interview room with Artherton and Hobbs. There, he asked Hobbs how his day had been and if he had time to spare; upon the slightly confused “yes sir,” he beckoned his “dear boy” to sit and enjoy, took out the precious instrument wrapped in layers of cloth, and began to play.

The tune started as a low hum, a longing whisper circling the room and reaching out to Hobbs's being. Then, a harmony rang with sudden passion, only to merge into a frenzied run of arpeggios and groups of dainty trills and heavy tenutos that arrived at a fermata, soaring across the night sky and diving under the clouds to a quiet village of sunshine and serene arias that travelled through the woods where brooks joined with river. There, the wind lifted him high in the sky and sailed over majestic mountains ranges and deep valleys, over the misty moors, grassy countrysides, mystical castles, the towns, the cities, of bustling traffic and crowded markets, and hovering over the streets he knew, a gentle breeze slipping through the windowpanes. The melody and final cadence faded into the soft glow of the gas lamp.

Hobbs was hypnotized. Before he knew it, the fiddler placed the instrument in his hands, and he stared at it, unable to process the situation.

There was a strange silence. He looked up. A decomposing corpse stood before him. The stench.

“Hey, hey, Hobbs, wakey wakey!”

His eyes snapped open.

“The inspector wants you.”

At those words, Hobbs jumped up and got dressed at lightning speed, though splashing cold water on his face did little to calm his turbulent mind, disturbed by the overlapping of reality and illusion. He knew it was just a silly dream--the fiddler had left the station in a jovial mood, waving his cane, which had a grip in the shape of a violin scroll, and chanting about dinner at home. But the effort to cast out the imagined horror entangled with phantom remnants of a revolting, horrendous stench--it was a case Hobbs did not participate, for Captain Jackson promptly banished him from the dead room where the smell, that lingered for weeks, exceeded his endurance.

The memories mingled together, fading in and out within Hobbs’s clouded mind, and he probably did not look cheerful when he appeared at the front desk for a briefing.

Sergeant Artherton gave him a wink and passed him a cup of coffee. Following their sweeping victory at the Talent Quest, he fished Hobbs out of the partying coppers after the lad had one bottle too much booze. He smiled behind his mighty beard as Hobbs took a sip, inhaling the steam that would hopefully soothe the aftereffect. They went through necessary information, and when Artherton put the cup and documents away, his feet brushed against something. It was Hobbs’s fiddle in its case, which Artherton always kept safe under the counter for H-Division’s best fiddler. He watched Hobbs straighten his uniform and leave the station with Reid.

Perhaps it was better for the young constable when certain things stayed unknown. Artherton had a short chat with the old fiddler before looking up the latter’s name in the records. Of course, Hobbs was not told about this, nor the fact that the body that reeked horrendous stench, nonetheless a result of natural causes, came with a cane that had a violin-scroll-shaped grip. He did not know that, many years ago, a young constable just like him never made it home; that an old fiddler’s heart shattered at the fatal news and the sight of the mutilated body; that a grandfather, driven insane by grief, wandered off faraway from home, in search for his boy and to play for him once more; that the piece was composed by the fiddler himself and a favorite of the fallen PC; that, when he almost ran over the old man during that chase, the latter, after countless summers and winters, endless hardships and yearnings, saw his boy flying into his arms.

PC Hobbs was a diligent policeman, but there were stories he might never learn, and that was okay. Regardless, he had made a dream come true.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Here's a long one :) Hope you enjoyed. 🎻

Thanks for reading!

#Ripper Street #PC Hobbs #Dick Hobbs #Sergeant Artherton #Donald Artherton #Inspector Reid #Edmund Reid #Ripper Street fanfiction #fanfiction #violin #fiddle #author's notes: Artherton's good old strong Turkish coffee did a good job in making Hobbs feel better #and encouragement #its familiar taste combined with Artherton’s calm amiable voice reminded him of home and brought him peace #(but i didn't write it in because it might be redundant)#btw Artherton didn't speak in the dream #also: never run with your instrument! any instrument!#(and always put it in its case when not playing)#;)

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imma-potatoo · 4 years ago

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Quest For A Smile

A Christmas Oneshot for my Blond Janus AU!

Summery: Janus has never gotton a chance to celebrate Christmas before. The others fully intend to change this fact as well as making the side smile.

Huge special thanks to @superwholockandpfl and @mother-snake for making my year amazing and pushing me to improve my writing! You two are absolutely amazing and I can't express enough gratitude 💛💙💚

Words: 5,196

Janus sighed heavily as he walked in the front door. Blond curls a complete and total mess, coated with sweat and a slight tinge of blood. As the door shut behind him he leaned against it with a groan and an unpleasant look on his face. Wrath was angry again, he managed to escape before any real harm could be inflicted but Janus still breathed in deep and held it for multiple seconds to calm his nerves. Soon his lungs cleared and he could breathe easy once more. Something smelled off this time though, the lightsides home typically smelled of fresh chocolate and golden brown cookies, of the forest and the thick mist of lakes, of crofters and handbound books. But this time it was different…

The air was filled with the smell of gingerbread, a hint of fresh pine and peppermint. Glitter seemed to be permanently soaked into the carpet. The air was warm and filled with the scent of sugar with sweetened honey and nutmeg. Soft sounds of cheerful music filled the house as laughs filed in from the living room.

Janus pushed himself away from the door, locking it securely, before walking into the living room. He was swaying back and forth a bit, but that was nothing compared to the pure dose of pure confusion when he saw the other sides.

Absolutely hideous sweaters, fur-trimmed red hats with a cotton ball on the end, an ear-to-ear smile, and slightly thicker pants, it was on every side. Janus wasn’t used to this. He was used to the normal wear of the others, even the twins dressed down. But Janus had definitely seen weirder things that day and just collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Attempting to avoid staining the couch with blood, but it was a fruitless effort as the wound hit the cushion directly.

The others stopped their laughter and exchanged a look of confusion with one another. Janus was very rarely happy when he came in the door, often sporting multitudes of injuries and grumbling swears under his breath as he raided the medical cabinet for the fifth time that week. The sides felt horrible after seeing every bandage and cut. Virgil walked up to the smaller side.

“Jannie?” muffled grumbles and obscurities came from the side on the couch, “come on baby snake. I gotta see your injuries” more mild swears escaped the younger's lips as he sat up with a scowl.

His scales were patchy, a few torn-out leaving empty, gaping, bloody holes in their stead. The blood was dried on his cheek; smelling so much like iron the others had to hold in their retching. A huge black eye was already forming on his right and his cheeks were soaked in painful tears. His outfit was a mess, his black dress shirt was torn in multiple places, revealing more oozing blood from underneath. Yellow suspenders hanging limply from his shoulders. On his left temple was a large gash, heavily and steadily leaking more of the bright crimson liquid. Janus looked sad and broken, his eyes were dull as he stared into Virgil's warm gray ones.

Virgil stared at his child in horror, every time that Janus had returned to the light side, he had this spark. This look in his eyes that compelled him to fight. That forced him to stand back up after every hit and strike. It was almost like a pull that required him to keep fighting. But even the strongest fighters can’t get back up occasionally. And Virgil could tell that Janus was falling, because of that spark that powered Janus’ every move.

It was gone.

The one thing that Virgil refused to do was let his baby fall. He had broken too many promises to break his entire purpose of being a father.

Virgil smiled, it was fake and too hard to pull off, but he gazed into Janus’ blue and yellow eyes anyway. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up,” Virgil held out his hand for Janus to take, watching as the smaller side extended his hand slowly and rested it in his palm. Virgil helped the yellow side stand shakily as he led him to the kitchen, extending the sides a look as he walked away.

When the duo got to the kitchen, Virgil picked up Janus like he weighed nothing -it wasn’t far off- and plopped him on the counter. “Stay right here, I’m going to go grab the medkit from the bathroom. Ok?” Virgil watched as Janus held himself tightly; watching as the side nodded slightly as his eyes were trained to the floor. Virgil felt his stomach churn as he walked away from the side and back to the group, the plastic smile melting away faster with every step only to be replaced with a heart of lead and eyes doused in concern.

Logan stopped Virgil on his mission for the medkit, “Is Janus adequate?” his lips twisting into a frown while Virgil shook his head as Patton interrupted, “what's wrong with our kiddo?” you could hear the heaviness in his voice. It was shaking as if it was afraid to know the answer.

Virgil drew a deep breath as he looked at the sides, their eyes crawling with concern and nervousness. “The last time that he acted like this… it- it wasn’t good.” Virgil looked down at the ground, “When he was fifteen, Wrath and Depression did a number on him. And…. and he was bleeding out. Completely collapsed in the main hallway, and when-” Virgil’s voice had gone rough, closing up to prevent any noise from escaping. But he pushed through and continued speaking anyway, “When I found him I took him back to my room and started to patch him up. But- but he just stopped me and told me to let him go.” Virgil could feel the tears leaking down his cheeks as he continued the story, “I patched him up regardless but the week after-” he drew another breath slow and steady, calming down his nerves. “The week after, I found him lying in a pool of his own blood next to a note.” his own voice sounded choked, “I don’t know what's happening with Jan… but I’m not going to lose him because of a mistake I made years ago.” Virgil wiped away his tears as he started to walk away to get the medical kit.

“Virgil?”

Virgil turned to face Logan, “Do the darks celebrate Christmas?”

Virgil shook his head, “no, holidays were seen as weakness. Especially Christmas…. I always tried to get him a gift though”

Logan nodded with a sour look on his face, expression bitter as he played with the trim of his Christmas sweater. Brows furrowed in thought as Virgil walked away. Logan's mind was whirring. Twisting and turning like the gears on a machine. Granted, Logan was always thinking. That was his sole function. To think and to problem solve. Logan has never been one to admit that he had emotions, he actively denied having any such thing, but he wouldn’t lie and say that he was unhappy. He had a loving family, a table with food that wasn’t green with mold, a safe warm bed where he could fall asleep without having to risk making it to morning. His life was far from perfect, but it was nowhere near Janus’. And ever since Virgil had told them where Janus was meant to be, a huge pit of guilt was starting to gnaw at his stomach. And that wouldn’t stand, it didn’t matter if Logan had to personally dispose of the dark sides himself. He was going to make Janus smile.

By the time that Virgil returned with the medkit and started to patch up Janus, Logan had discussed his plan with the rest of the family. The twins got to work crafting an early gift for the yellow side. Janus was way smaller than the rest of them, maybe 5’3” while Patton -who was the second shortest of the bunch- was 5’8”. The sides tried to make it fit the best as possible; without showing Janus of course. And eventually, the gift was all wrapped up in a neat bow and ribbon, waiting for the recipient.

When Virgil finished fixing up the smaller side, he took Janus’ hand and led him back to the living room where all the sides were waiting, all excitedly bouncing up and down. Virgil could feel Janus tense up as they sat on the couch, the younger side attempting to keep his thoughts in line and his breathing calm, repeating over and over that he was safe and that they wouldn’t hurt him.

They would never hurt him, this is the light sides, they’re good people, hitting someone makes you a bad person; right? But, there are always exceptions to the rules, if someone is hurting a bad person to protect a good person does that mean that the abuser is good? Janus’ leg was bouncing repeatedly, his eyes growing hazy. Breathing grew faster and faster as the thoughts turned even more toxic, repeating a horrible mantra of hate and disgust for the side’s own skin. After all, if everything’s supposed to happen for a reason, why did he hurt every day? Good people get rewarded, bad people are punished. So if he’s getting punished every day, wouldn’t that make him bad? What did he ever, ever do to get this kind of treatment? This isn’t fair, why couldn’t it be fair? What did he do? How many bruises could make up for whatever heinous crime he’d committed? He’s tired, he’s just so tired, is it so much for him to ask for him to just sleep fore-

“-Seven, eight. Come on buddy! You here?” Janus was broken from the toxic mantra with the lights grabbing his hand. Bringing him back to reality. He nodded, sucking in a large breath. He didn’t even notice that he was spacing out, blocking out all of his surroundings. Drawing one more breath he looked back up at the light sides. Finding faces full of concern and worry. Doubtful glances at one another when Janus said that he was fine.

Janus looked up at the others, “what did you guys need?” his voice was slightly shaky as he touched his bandaged temple, flinching back his hand after it stung horribly.

“Um, hi kiddo!” Patton could barely meet his eyes, “how ya feeling?” Janus shrugged, his eyes training back to the ground, “We um, got you a present!”

Janus’ eyes snapped back up, “What?”

The others exchanged a look, “Yeah, Jannie, it's a Christmas Gift.” Janus looked confused as he blinked repeatedly in complete wonderment “you….. have gotten a gift before right?”

Janus nodded, “well, I have. But the others always got rid of them.” and that was the exact second that the mood died.

Roman was confused, “What do you mean they ‘got rid of them’ snakes n ladders?”

Janus looked a little puzzled, “Well, Vee would get me a gift, I would get to play with it for a while and then they would find out and burn it.” Janus hesitantly turned his gaze to the others, finding looks of horror, anger, and tears leaking down their faces, “I take it that it's not supposed to be like that?”

Patton has his hand clasped over his mouth as thick globs of tears leaked down his cheeks. Shaking his head repeatedly, “No- no, kiddo! The presents you get are supposed to stay with you! And you’re supposed to keep them! And love them! And they’re supposed to be precious memories, not ashes in the fireplace!”

Janus looked back to the floor, his eyebrows furrowed in thought and confusion, “oh”

Roman patted the father figment on the back as he wiped his tears. He grabbed a large yellow package from the coffee table and placed it lightly in the younger sides lap.

Janus reached out his hand tentatively, lightly stroking the black glittery ribbon that wrapped the yellow paper. The paper was covered in small snakes winding up various Christmassy items like trees and ornaments. Janus felt a stinging sensation come to his eyes as his voice felt stuck in his throat. “F-for me?” questioning eyes met the others. He looked back down to the gift once he got confirmation through various modes of agreement.

With the security of the smiles and encouragement of the lightsides, Janus grabbed the ribbon and pulled. It fell away as Janus ripped the yellow paper carefully. His fingers shook slightly as he opened the box, his eyes widened as he completely lost his ability to speak.

Inside of the box was a sweater. It was plush and a vibrant yellow. The wool was as soft as a cloud with ornaments, candy canes, and swirls and dots filled in the gaps as the pattern. It was a standard Christmas sweater, but it was clear by the hiccuping tears streaming down the side’s face, that it meant a lot to him.

Bringing his hand to his mouth to muffle the sobs, he pulled the sweater out of the box and pulled it close to his chest. A small note falling to his lap.

The others watched as Janus shakily picked up the note and as the tears leaked down faster as he read on.

‘Janus, we know that this gift cannot make up for all the missed Christmases. But, you deserve to have a happy day. Will you spend the day with us? ~Logan, Roman, Patton, Virgil, and Remus’

Janus looked up at the others with a shocked face, his mouth gaped open in shock, eyes wide as hope filled his irises once more. The sweater was pulled close to his chest, doubtful -but hopeful- eyes flicked back and forth between the five of them, “y-you mean it?”

Virgil rushed to his child, sitting quickly but not too roughly as to startle him. “Janus, look at me.” The yellow side raised his eyes to meet his, the grip tightening on the sweater, “I’m not going to take your gift, my hatchling.” Virgil breathed deep as the side lightened his grip ever so slightly, “you shouldn’t have to worry about anything that you currently do. And, my adorable hatchling, we would never do anything that could make your life even harder.” Virgil slowly reached for Janus’ hands, “now, do you want to have a real Christmas?”

The others held their breath as seemingly millions of different emotions flashed on the smaller side’s face, their eyes flickering nervously before Janus pulled his hands away from Virgil and they felt their hearts sink like a ball of lead.

The others watched with tear-filled eyes while Janus pulled the sweater over his head. The side looked up at them with wide hopeful eyes, “please?”

--------

Sooner than Janus could blink, he was bundled like he was going to Antarctica, and they were trudging outside towards an evergreen forest.

Janus walked beside Virgil, a beanie covering his blond locks while Virgil let his jet black hair blow freely in the crisp winter wind. The snow crunched beneath their feet as they followed the twins. Virgil humming a small tune that Janus thought was a Christmas carol. Oversized mittens covered the half-snakes hands, keeping them very warm and content; as well as a matching yellow scarf. but truth be told, Janus had absolutely no clue about Christmas.

The sides stopped at the forest; Janus, Logan, and Virgil watched the other three run wild in the evergreens. Janus stood there puzzled as Remus climbed one of the trees to get a better view of the land, Janus turned to Virgil, “Hey dad?” Virgil looked down at the side, Janus’ eyes were wide like a doe’s, his face was questioning.

“Yeah, Jan?”

Janus played with the ends of his mittens, “Why are we here?” his eyes stayed calm for a second before dissolving into pure panic, “not that I’m not happy to be here! I just don’t get why we went to an evergreen forest to celebrate Christmas……”

Virgil blanked out for a second, then it clicked. Janus didn’t understand Christmas… and Virgil was determined to change that fact.

Virgil let out a small smile, “Come sit down, I’ll tell you,” Virgil led the smaller side to a fallen log, sitting down and waiting for Janus to do the same. Virgil went to open his mouth when Janus sat next to him with curious eyes, only to pause and take a deep breath, “LOGAN!!!”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil, before sighing and walking to the pair -shoving a bookmark in his book while he was at it. He stopped before the purple side, “Yes Virgil?”

Virgil rubbed his eyes with his hand, “L, can you tell Jan why we put a pine tree inside for Christmas? I don’t know how to explain this…”

Logan perked up slightly, “Of course! I’ll be happy to explain!” he sat down on the other side of Janus. “Christmas trees were originally from Germany. Specifically, it was developed in medieval Livonia -present-day Estonia and Latvia- and early modern Germany where German protestant christens brought decorated evergreens into their homes. However, in ancient Egypt, during the winter solace, the Egyptians would fill their homes with palm leaves. And, the early Romans celebrated Saturnalia, in honor of Saturn; god of agriculture and they decorated their homes and temples with evergreen boughs. But that's not even mentioning the celts!” Logan beamed as Janus listening intently, the yellow side seemed to be absorbing every once of information that Logan provided. Logan relaxed comfortably on the fallen tree, telling Janus the reason they put ornaments on the tree as the side stared at him with sparkling eyes.

The two left-brain sides talked all the way back to the house, the tree in hand, Janus occasionally prompting more questions from the blue side and the said side happily answering them. Virgil let loose a small grin as he saw Janus happily talking and asking questions about evergreens

The sides got back to the house and the twins started to trim and set up the tree.

Janus and Logan sat on the couch to continue their discussion on why all of Santa’s Reindeer were actually female when Patton called for Janus from the kitchen. Janus looked at Logan with a fond expression, but no smile…

Janus stood up and walked past Virgil and Remus arguing over a gingerbread cookie, apparently, it was different from the other cookies…. Janus didn’t get it, he walked carefully into the kitchen where Patton was leaning over the counter with a small hum under his breath.

“You called Patton?” Janus played with the end of his Christmas sweater, he kept the black beanie too. Patton turned around with a bright grin

“Hiya kiddo!” Patton was wearing a blue apron reading ‘give the cook a puppy!’ with a spatula and a smear of frosting on his cheek. “Wanna help me decorate a gingerbread house?!” Patton watched as different emotions flickered over the younger's face, he looked at the father figment with a look of pure confusion.

“But, can’t you just eat the candies how they are? I thought that no one ate the gingerbread anyway, so isn’t that kinda a waste?” Janus’ looked at the candy by the undecorated house, the house was already assembled to prevent any anger and frustration, Janus turned back to Patton when he heard the side giggle.

Patton rocked back and forth on his heels, hands covered in flour and sugar which were tied up in the strings of his apron, a small grin on his lips as he made eye contact with Janus. “I mean… I guess you could just eat the candy…. But decorating it is half the fun! Besides! Remus and Logan love gingerbread! Plus I made it from scratch, so it’ll taste good!” Patton turned back to the counter and started rustling in the baking ingredients before grabbing something with a squeal and turning back to Janus. He held out his hand to the smaller side, offering the cookie.

Janus looked at the cyan side and hesitantly raised his own hand shakily to take the sweet. Patton was patient as his brain screamed danger and he has to fight to keep himself calm, keeping the cookie exactly where it was with a calm smile and relaxed eyes. Though Janus could tell that there was some underlying nervousness, maybe it was because his grip on the cookie was a little too tight, or because he could sense how afraid the others were of upsetting him, or maybe it was because the tension in the air was never gone when he was around. They didn’t want to make him upset. Janus didn’t know how to feel about that information.

Janus grabbed the cookie and brought it to his lips, trying to ignore the urge to not eat anything that another person gave him, and he took a bite. Nutmeg and ginger filled his senses, the cookie was sweet but slightly dry as it crumbled in his mouth as he continued to chew. The next bite, he bit into some chocolate which brought his senses over the moon. It was soft as his teeth repeatedly sank into the brown shape. He looked up at the father figment with wide sparkling eyes, “what kind of cookie was that?!”

Patton chuckled as Janus continuously went back for more bites of the cookie, “That was a gingerbread man kiddio! Homemade too!” Janus seemed to be zoned out as Patton laughed slightly under his breath. “I’ll take it that you’re helping me decorate?” the same happy grin only grew as Janus nodded his head vigorously.

Janus and Patton decorated the gingerbread house with every single candy they could fit on to the tiny baked good. Frosting smothered every inch and candy was thrown around like snow in a storm. Patton giggled as he saw Janus occasionally sneak a few candies, “come on kiddo! Don’t eat all the candy! We gotta use some on the house!” Patton could pinpoint the exact second that Janus’ expression fell, he was so close to getting him to smile only for him to ruin it with a silly comment. “Oh! No! No no no no! Kiddo, it's ok! Here, I can get you your own bowl of candy!” Patton walked away from the counter with a heavy heart.

He had been so close to getting Janus to smile! It was right there! He could see Janus’ lips start to turn into a weavering smile and he just had to make that comment, Patton walked over to Virgil under the guise of grabbing some candy from the bowl in the living room.

He started filling the small bowl with candy, “hey, Kiddo?” Virgil hummed in response, scrolling through his phone, “has Janus ever had any sweets before?” that stopped Virgil in his tracks, he turned off his phone and looked Patton directly in the eyes.

“Patton, you do know what you’re asking me right?” Virgil kept his eyes trained on the cyan side as he nodded. Virgil rubbed his temple and sighed, “the others… are big on control. Wrath will force you to do something you regret and hold it over your head for years…. Anyway, one of the ways that Wrath,” Virgil felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine, “controls you, is by having complete power over the food supply. And sweets were not something that was handed out. Oftentimes we got stuck with some rotten excuse for food while the other three ate like kings” Virgil leaned to the back of the couch, his phone by his side, “Janus only got sweets when I managed to sneak them in.” Patton saw Virgil take large slow calming breaths, even and slow. “Now, popstar, what did you say to my kid?”

Patton took a deep breath, his chest was shaking, Virgil was known to be quite protective of the smaller side, “I didn’t mean to kiddo! He kept sneaking little pieces of candy and I told him to save some for the gingerbread house. I didn’t mean to make him upset!” Virgil sighed audibly, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Take some of the charamals, I think he’ll like them.” Virgil’s voice was low, clearly quite tired. He analyzed the light blue side carefully. “Patton, I’m not angry. Just try to be a little more careful with how you phrase things.” Patton nodded, pulling the candy bowl close to his chest. His glum expression disappears in the matter of seconds. The brilliant grin back on his lips with full force.

“Thanks kiddo! Your dear old dad-” “Patton, I’m older than you.” “your dear old dad needed some pointers!” Patton walked away with a pit of lead in his stomach, his dark kiddos had suffered for so long and they could barely do anything for Janus due to the rules of the mind.

In order for a side to switch their part of the mind, they need “permission” from a side from their current place of residence and everyone in their future residence. Janus had everyone’s acceptance from the lightside, but the darks refusing to let him go. Janus was the side to give Remus and Virgil permission and now the poor side is stuck because there is no way the darks are going to give up their leverage. Everyone on the lightside feels absolutely horrible.

It feels like a vicious cycle. Janus goes to the darkside, he gets hurt, he goes to the lightside to heal up and get some food, he stays for maybe a day (if he’s luckily) before he has to return to his room in the dark, only for the cycle to repeat over and over and over. Everyone knew Janus was falling, they just didn’t have the guts to say it.

Patton walked back into the kitchen with the bowl of candy. He hid the bowl behind his back, walking slowly to not startle the smaller side. Janus was barely up to his ear, wild blond curls stuck out every way they could manage, Janus turned and Patton got a better look at the shiny eyes that belonged to the younger side. His right eye was a light baby blue with speckles of green and gold. It reminded Patton of the glimmering galaxies that Logan often showed him, or of the rising and falling tides that were deadly but so serene. The other eye was a bright contrasting gold, it was rich in colour and metallic like a coin in a sunken chest. The pupil of the golden eye was slim like a snake, it was constantly flickering around the room -although Patton didn’t know if that was his snake instincts or a habit formed from years of planning desperate escapes.

“Hey kiddo! I got you something!” Janus looked a little confused, he normally didn’t get a single gift, more than one was almost unheard of, but he raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner nonetheless. “Hold your hands!” Janus followed his instructions slowly. Validity Deceit isn’t one to trust people blindly. Janus watched Patton closely as he pulled something from behind his back and set it in his hands. Janus felt his eyes widen

In his hands sat a bowl overflowing with sweets. Janus couldn’t form words as he kept staring at the bowl, chocolates to charamals to hard candy. Janus couldn’t get any words to form as he just kept staring at the bowl. He felt small pinpricks of tears spring to his eyes but managed to hold them in. Janus looked back up at Patton with joyful eyes.

“Thank you” his voice breathless

----

The freshly decorated gingerbread house sat on the coffee table, hot chocolate was pressed into the hands of the sides as they prepared to watch a christmas movie. The air was warm with the fireplace glowing burning flames. Janus stared into the dancing embers, entranced by the red blaze. It was so warm and comforting, it felt almost like a warm hug. But the flames also reminded him of Apathy and his lighter. That thought alone sent a shiver down his spine as the others argued over the movie

“The Muppets Christmas Carol!”

“The Grinch!”

“Noelle is an empowering movie for women.”

“Home Alone!”

“The Nightmare before Christmas!”

Janus hummed along to the radio that was playing in the meantime, the warm chocolatey drink was sweet. He didn’t know the words for the songs but he still enjoyed the songs regardless.

“Remus, we are not making Janus’ first christmas movie a horror film!” Roman was starting to get a little irritated with his twin. His quips were starting to get a little more bite than bark, the tension was starting to raise like it always did on their movie nights

“Well why not?! Come on Abel! Tell dear old Cain why we can’t watch a perfectly fine movie! Or is that stick up your butt shoved too far!?” Remus was just as mocking as the others stood on the sidelines. This was typical of the twins, they would settle down eventually and they could pick a movie.

Janus sitting in between Virgil and Logan, his head lolled to the side; resting on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil in turn, had his arm resting over his shoulder in a comforting manner.

Logan leaned against the back cushions, coffee in one hand, “actually, Cain was the older sibling so Remus comparing himself to Cain would be incorrect because he’s youn-”

“SHUT UP NERD!!!!” the twins both screamed at the same time, the house shaking at the pure volume for the yell. The very second the yell sounded, Janus flinched and Virgil pulled the yellow side onto his lap, wrapping both arms around him in a protective grip.

The purple side growled lowly, “you two are going to calm down NOW. I’m not going to tolerate this today.” The red and green sides squeaked slightly at Virgil’s tempest tone, it wasn’t brought out often but when it was, it definitely got the others to listen. Virgil took a breath, calming his voice. “We’re watching Logan’s pick.” Janus had accepted his fate as a snuggle buddy, besides, he felt safe anyway.

The group was quiet, each side having their own questions in their mind. “Why Logans? Noelle isn’t normally on the watch list?” Roman huffed as he threw himself on the newly constructed pillow throne, he was just as dramatic as Juliet when she stabbed her own heart.

Virgil shrugged as he slightly loosened his grip on Janus, “Happy ending, good message, it's funny, and it has a great message of female empowerment.” The sides all snuggled into their chairs as Remus brought up the movie.

The fire was warm. Snow was falling gracefully out the window. The hot chocolate was steaming as marshmallows floated like little islands. The sides were calm, no injuries to tend or having to hide, only the calm steady breathing of the six as Santa walked on screen.

And Janus let out a small smile.

-------

Taglist:

@writerstrashbin , @psychedelicships , @cryptidwriterdotcom (ask to be removed or added)

@girl-with-many-fandoms @fortunatelyimperfect @idkanameatall

Merry Christmas my friends. I hope you enjoy this late Christmas present. ❤️💛💚💙💜💖

Blond Janus AU masterpost

42 notes · View notes

gerbiloftriumph · 4 years ago

Photo

The Silence Between Snowflakes

(also on ao3)

His name was Gwydion--but that wasn't his name. He lived in Llewdor--but that wasn't his home.

Alexander escapes Manannan's grasp and flees to Daventry, hoping he might find a place that he might call home after years of loss and loneliness. While Daventry embraces him, loves him, shows him all the stories it has within it, the country is also suffering under the worst winter in memory. But it might not just be a hard season: there might be something out there, something chasing the lost prince. Something malevolent, intent on destroying the kingdom snowflake by snowflake, spreading a curse across the lands and infecting its king.

(Or: I don't like how King's Quest 2015's Chapter 4 played out, so I've rewritten the whole thing to fit my headcanons and character desires.)

~*~*~

1/8

(1: Found Family)

~*~*~

Gwendolyn was smiling when she walked into his room, but Graham, after decades of being king, could tell when someone’s expression was false. It wasn’t especially hard in this case. He could see tears glittering in the corners of her eyes. She kept up the brave face right until the point when he spoke his first words to her that day: “Do you want to talk about it?”

She froze, one foot in the air. “Talk about...?” she said, with forced nonchalance.

“Whatever you like. But I think you have something specific on your mind.”

And that was all it took for her carefully drawn face to crumple.

“I just don’t get it. Everything seems to make Gart mad these days,” she said, sinking into the chair by the bed. “I can’t seem to do anything right. He keeps yelling at me.”

“Oh, is that what I heard this morning?” Graham tried to get her to smile with him, but she was looking away, twisting the strings of her hood through her fingers like a little net. “Sweetling, can you tell me what he’s yelling about?”

“I don’t wanna say,” she said, her face buried in her knees now as she drew herself up into a ball on the chair. Her voice was muffled. She looked like she was shrinking into herself, like she didn’t want to take up any space at all, like she wanted to hide. She looked so much like Alexander in that moment that Graham felt his breath catch: he could so easily see his son curled up in a corner of the ice cell, shivering and wanting to disappear, certain that he had led the kingdom to destruction just by existing.

"Here, now. Have I ever told you a story about your father?”

~*~*~*~

It was snowing both outside and inside Daventry castle.

Outside: that was perfectly normal. It was the end of the year, the lazy autumn finally reaching its end and the snows starting to build up. This was the first proper, heavy storm. Flakes pelted the windows, which were shuttered against the cold. Colorful tapestries had been drawn over the frames, darkening the corridors but keeping the place relatively cozy and comfortable despite the bone deep cold ache seeping out of the exterior stone walls. Wind whistled through the high crenellations, furiously whipping the flakes high against the towers before letting them fall gracefully into heaps that the royal guards would have to shovel out of the way later.

Inside: well, after eighteen years, that was kind of normal, too. Paperwork snowed up in its own sorts of drifts, covering the floor and audience chairs in the throne room. Paperwork that Graham had been ignoring.

He’d been doing okay. Eighteen years was a long time. Or, at least, so he told himself. The hole that Manannan had left when he’d ripped Alexander from his cradle eighteen years ago, stolen the prince of Daventry, leaving the taste of a broken lullaby on Graham’s lips—that hole never filled, but sometimes it was easier to ignore. If he didn’t think about it. And Graham had Rosella to take care of, his beautiful clever daughter, and Valanice to take care of him, his wise, confident wife, and he in turn cared for her, and for his country, to help the land and the people on it grow, tending to it just as the farmers tended the fields. Daventry needed him to be strong.

And he was strong. Mostly.

But, at the end of the year, when the seasons ticked over and the date changed with a finality and a clang...it all came rushing back. The sharp loss. The searches. The failures. Again and again, the failures. Eighteen years come and gone and nothing to show for them. The wizard had just vanished from the earth with his captive as far as the royal family could tell.

Somehow, at the end of every year, Graham’s arms felt weak, and his head ached, and his heart hurt. Even though Valanice understood, even though she held him close and they wept together for what they had lost, around them the demands of the kingdom kept endlessly pressing. After eighteen years, they had to finally accept that Alexander would never come home.

Rosella, his dear sweet princess daughter, carried them through the winter seasons. She learned closely from her tutors, always asking why the kingdom was doing something one way and not doing something another way. She had suitors to meet, plans to make. She, more than the council, more than the guards, more than anyone, seemed to keep Daventry on track when the year ended and the next year (the next year of failure) began. When Graham felt at a loss, overwhelmed (how could he lead a country when he couldn’t even protect his family), Rosella picked up some of the loss.

She had started attending council meetings too young. At first, it had been cute, even a little funny, to see her golden hair bobbing at the table. She had carried a stack of heavy addenda books to her chair herself so that she could sit on top of them and stare imperiously over the councilors. Graham hadn’t the heart to tell her to leave, and she made her attendance a habit. She started figuring processes out, and over the years she started to offer tolerable ideas, and then impressive ones. Sitting at council so young, so fanciful and creative, she was able to twist policy with fantasy with abandon. Without the careful thought that adults had to put into every sentence. It gave her wild confidence. Planted ideas in her head that Graham was mildly sure weren’t exactly princess-like.

But after all, the Cracker family was new to royalty. Who was to say what a Cracker Princess should be?

It wasn’t fair, perhaps, like it was taking away part of her childhood. But Rosella was determined to do what she wanted, and what she wanted was to be a part of Daventry in every single way like her father. Ruling and adventuring in almost the same breath. She went to council, and then she went tree climbing. And then she came to council the next day with her arm in a sling after daring to climb too high. Royal Guard Number One despaired, unable to keep her in check.

But this year was different. She would be turning eighteen soon. Eighteen was an important age. Eighteen was the age Graham had joined the royal knighthood of Daventry, found his path, changed his future.

Eighteen.

She was distracted, and understandably. She was going for walks more and more often out in the tangled forest paths. Sometimes the family came with her, especially in the springtime when the new year’s fear wore away and fresh life started poking out from the cold dirt. Although, her birthday (her twin Alexander’s birthday) was in the spring, and that brought its own pain.

She was probably on a walk somewhere now, Graham thought. He wandered through the sheaves of paperwork piled high as his nose in some places, flipping a sheet here, reading one there, sticking another in his cloak pocket for closer examination later. He wished he was with her too, with Valanice at his side, breathing that crisp Daventry winter chill.

He daydreamed about the route. The promise of hot chocolate and snowberry pie from Wente’s bakery, maybe a new order of cozy woolen socks and blankets from Acorn to stave off the chill, with a detour to Amaya’s warm smithy to sit by the forge and talk about the latest order of rust-resistant armor on order for the royal guards. And then, maybe, by himself, a longer turn by the old well, past the plaque commemorating a brave knight lost, listening to the crunch and crackle of snow under his boots. Just because. Just in case someone had returned to the underground caverns. A boy (a man, now) with hair as dark as Graham’s had been at that age.

He chased the thought away, settled down in his throne, skimmed another page without reading it, wondered if he could order another cup of cider or if Valanice would swat him for putting more sweets in his rounding tummy. She was here, too, somewhere in the hills of paperwork. It was Valanice who had insisted that they clear some of the work before the year end, who insisted they couldn’t sink into the usual sorrows. She herself had hauled the papers into the throne room rather than his office so that he couldn’t ignore them. She would give him a solid (albeit playful) smack if she caught him with one of Wente’s oversweetened ciders. Maybe later.

“Dad?”

Rosella was back from her walk. She had dragged in some boy with her, some scruffy teen half covered in frozen mud, with snowflakes melting in his hair. The lad was staring at the throne, at the crown on the pedestal nearby, at the magic mirror (fuzzy and dark these last eighteen years as though cursed, although Graham realized with a sudden start that the colors had returned to it sometime recently when he hadn’t been paying attention). The boy was swaying dizzily. He looked exhausted, poor thing. Graham stood, stuffing the addenda back in his cloak pocket. “Welcome, young man, to Daventry Castle.”

“Dad?” Rosella repeated. Her voice cracked.

Valanice’s head poked up from somewhere in the stacks, like a rabbit in a burrow. “Oh! You look dead on your feet, dear boy. Might we offer you some tea, or maybe even a blanket?” She struggled out of the snowdrifts of paper, dress catching on piles and pulling them after her in little avalanches.

“D-Dad?”

That one...that wasn’t Rosella speaking. That was...the boy. The scruffy filthy lost looking...eighteen-year-old boy...with raven black hair....

The smile froze on Graham’s lips, faded. His heart beat in his ears so hard that it hurt, that he couldn’t hear anything else. Couldn’t hear the paper sliding out of its heaps as he knocked it over in his haste to get by, couldn’t hear his footsteps pounding over the carpet, couldn’t hear the sudden burbling laughter pouring out of his own mouth, couldn’t hear Valanice’s shriek and scramble over the rustling, slippery sheets, couldn’t hear Rosella’s frantic explanation, couldn’t hear Alexander’s voice for the first time in eighteen years.

But he felt the boy in his arms as they went for an embrace. Valanice’s arms wrapped around his own as they gently, so gently, afraid of crushing the boy, afraid of frightening him away like a bird, like a ghost, like a dream, held him together.

Alexander squirmed under their grip after a few seconds, apparently not used to contact no matter how soft, and the family backed away, gave him space, let him breathe, and they all stared at each other, unable to think, unable to talk.

“I think...I’m back,” Alexander said, and then his knees buckled beneath him and he went down in a heap, and the whole family reached out and caught him, and everything was different and everything had changed, but the weather didn’t pay any attention, and the snow fell even harder, swirling into drifts and making the royal guards, as unaware as the weather, sigh and clutch their shovels.

~*~*~*~

Days whirled past relentlessly.

Questions, answers, suspicions. Joy, relief, apprehension, fear. No one knew quite what to do. This was unprecedented.

Graham and Valanice hovered anxiously over the boy as he regained his strength. They were impossible to tear away from his bedside, huddled together while the boy slept, fielding more questions from staff and citizens themselves than the boy himself answered. Valanice even took to strapping her old short sword around her hip as though she would have to take up some defense of him (from Manannan, or goblins in the night, or assassins, who could say?). But the more the color returned to the boy’s sallow cheeks the more he looked like his parents. The nervous whispers in the halls about imposters faded away.

“As though I wouldn’t know myself,” Valanice fretted, twirling the ends of her hair on her fingers. “Completely unfounded rumors.”

“Yes, but they don’t know you as well as I do,” Graham said, and he kissed the tip of her nose.

Once he was deemed well enough to talk, Alexander answered everything posed to him, though often without the detail they sought. He said where he had come from (Llewdor) and how he had gotten to Daventry (hidden amongst the crates and baskets of a pirate ship). He said what he had been made to do (keep house for the wizard), but he wouldn’t explain more, and no one wanted to push him.

Except on one detail, a detail that hovered over their heads like a black cloak. The most important detail.

“Will the wizard be coming back?” Royal Guard Number One pressed. He still remembered the attack, still remembered the violence. The fear of that night, and of all nights after.

“If he does, he’ll have a hard time doing much more than scratching,” the prince replied. And he didn’t (or maybe couldn’t) explain more than that. Not yet. No1 seemed frustrated, but a sharp glance from Graham made him subside, for now.

Alexander—sometimes he responded to his name, more often he didn’t, still used to that Gwydion name Manannan had forced on him—was quiet, and tried to take up as little space as possible. But he seemed to want to be helpful. As soon as he was allowed to leave his sickbed, he started searching for chores. He was often found outside trying to feed the chickens, and the servants had once caught him pawing through the broom closet looking for a bucket and mop.

“You don’t have to earn your place here,” Valanice told him gently. She reached out as though she wanted to sweep his unruly forelock, so like her husband’s bouncy curls, out of his eyes, but she held back when he flinched ever so slightly.

“Of course not, Ma’am—er, Mom. Still, though, do you think they need help sweeping the throne room?”

At his first presentation to the public, hastily gathered together as a means to silence rumors still floating around the kingdom, he stood uncomfortably next to his family, shifting awkwardly and blushing at the attention, candlelight glinting off his wary eyes. He ducked out at the first moment possible. No one saw him again for the rest of the night—he was good at finding little nooks and alcoves and burying himself in them, entirely out of sight.

Rosella, though, was determined. The Feys had brought Alexander hot chocolate during his days spent recovering from that terrible sea voyage, and while Alexander wouldn’t admit it, she could tell that he loved it. One chilly evening not long after the presentation, she invited Wente to the castle kitchens. She helped him mix up a fresh batch, getting melty chocolate chunks everywhere in the process (accompanied by No1’s barely muffled groans of annoyance when he walked past and saw chocolate halfway up the walls). She plonked two steaming mugs on a tray, covered them to keep them hot, and went in search of her brother.

Always searching, even after he’s been found.

As it happened, he was in his room.

It was a lovely room, near hers. It was always meant to be his, but it had sat sad and empty and dusty for eighteen years. They’d swept it, cleaned it, and let him have it as a blank canvas to do as he wished with. Which...he hadn’t done much. Guest rooms were richer with cozy decor than the crown prince’s room.

She knocked gently, pushed open the door, and found her brother kneeling on the floor by the bed, looking at something. He twisted to face her, shoving whatever it was behind him, yanked the bedspread down, smiled unevenly. Fear gleamed in his eyes. She leaned sideways, peering around him. A scarf trailed out from beneath the bed.

“Isn’t that the scarf Acorn made you?” she asked.

“Is what?” Alexander said with false cheerfulness. He kicked out behind him, and the scarf vanished under the bed.

“Are you hiding it? You don’t have to, I’ve seen it, it’s a nice one. He makes tons of them, says it helps him relax. You should wear it, it’ll be warm.” She put the tray on the (bare) desk and knelt beside him. She reached forward under the blanket, not actually bothering to look where she was reaching, and he made no move to stop her.

But instead of the scarf, her fingers felt something hard. A box? She gripped it, tugged it, but it was stuck, so she pulled harder. It popped free and caused an avalanche of clattering, rattling, dinging noises under the bed.

She glanced at Alexander, who now looked hopelessly guilty, and studied the box in her hands. It held a silver inkwell and quill, delicately engraved with looping vines. “Normally, people put these on their desk,” she said.

“Do they? I mean. Of course they do. Because they’re normal people. And I’m a normal person, too.”

Rosella pushed the blanket aside, revealing a veritable treasure trove. Gifts glittered in the candlelight, things the kingdom had cheerfully given to its lost prince. Welcome home cards, and cups, and papers, and embroidered pillows, and small tapestries, and hats and gloves, and a cloak, and an ornate dagger, and pressed flowers from warmer times, and other odds and ends that didn’t seem to have a use except in some esoteric way that only Alexander understood. His crown was under there, too, a slim golden circlet he was supposed to wear during official occasions but could otherwise be ignored. She dropped the blanket, hiding the inventory again.

Alexander was twisting his fingers together. “Please, don’t tell...I...”

Rosella took his hand in hers. It was cold. She pulled him so that he sat on the bed next to her, and then she pressed one of the hot chocolate mugs into his shaking fingers. Then, ever so carefully, she leaned against him. Lightly, so he could shrug away if he didn’t want her to touch him. He tensed, and then, just as carefully, leaned back, so that they propped each other up. The twins sipped their hot chocolate together. The torches in the hall snapped and popped, but otherwise the room was quiet.

Once the mugs were empty, Rosella said, “I can help you decorate, if you like. There’re some nice tapestries under there. It’ll be warmer in here with them up. If you don’t like the designs, I can help you swap them.”

Alexander didn’t say anything. He held his empty cup in both hands, swirling the dregs of chocolate.

She stuck her finger in the bottom of her own mug, dragged it through the remnants, and licked it away. Alexander shyly did the same, and then smiled. The first one she’d seen from him, she was sure. His eyes were still a little uneasy, a little guarded and suspicious, but he nodded. “I would like that. It does get a bit cold up here.”

“I think I saw a blanket from Acorn under there, too,” she said. “Maybe we could get that, if you want. It might be more comfortable in here with it.”

Alexander hesitated, then reached under the bed and pulled out the box with the inkwell in it. “And you can show me where to set this up? Like I’m supposed to, like a normal person.”

“Normal in this castle is relative,” she said, putting her hand on top of the box. “It can go anywhere you like. Which can include your desk.”

He thought about it, and then nodded. “That makes the most sense for it. On the desk. And. And, maybe...we can put out the pillows.” He swallowed and backtracked, glancing at the door as though expecting someone to be watching, judging, ready to take away his few treasures again. “Um. Tomorrow, maybe.”

“I think that would be a nice idea. Are you still okay with putting up tapestries tonight?”

“Um. Could...?” he stopped, looked down.

“Could?” she prompted.

“Could we have another hot chocolate, first, and then...you help me pick out the right ones?”

“Absolutely.”

#the goal is for you to read valanice as either vee or neese depending on your personal choices in ch3--she's more wholly here #ohhhh we startin ohhh man we startin i've been talking about doing this for like three years and we finally startin #haven't quite decided a publishing schedule yet even tho it's done #kings quest #King's Quest #fic'ing #ch4 #King Graham #alexander (king's quest)#neese #vee #rosella (king's quest)#you'll see a couple gerbils in written form here and there; i've been nurturing these headcanons for ages #Gwendolyn (king's quest)

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

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INTERVIEW: After 13 Years, Indie RPG Masterpiece Ruina is Finally Available in English

All screenshots of Ruina: Fairy Tale of the Forgotten Ruins taken by author

This article was made possible through the invaluable contributions of translators Dink and bool, and further aided by context generously provided by writer, translator, and RPG Maker scene dweller Kastel (@kastelwrites). Sections from their answers were excerpted for this piece and edited for clarity and content.

Last year, at the start of the pandemic, a lapsed member of the RPG Maker community known as Dink stumbled across a screenshot while trawling Japanese free game websites: a black obelisk standing in the midst of ruins. “This is going to make me sound like I've been huffing paint, but this image spoke to something quite visceral for me — like I'd been waiting to find this game. Something about the sepia tones, the light and shadows, the elegance of its very archetype. I knew I had to play it.” Dink had stumbled across Ruina: Haitou no Monogatari (Fairy Tale of the Forgotten Ruins), one of the most acclaimed free RPGs ever made in Japan. Released in the antiquated RPG Maker 2000 engine in 2008 by developer Shoukichi Karekusa, it retains a strong cult following and has even been translated into Chinese. Yet unlike its RPG Maker siblings Yume Nikki and Ib, Ruina is practically unknown in English-speaking countries. Dink decided to change that. “Once I realized that it had yet to be translated into English,” he said, “it was like I’d become possessed.”

Ruina is unique. A role-playing game that takes direct influence from tabletop games and gamebooks, it boldly defies conventions established by classic console role-playing games like Dragon Quest and Final Fantasy. Rather than controlling the main character across a top-down map, the player slowly uncovers a hand-illustrated map of nodes. Survival in the dungeon requires the use of ropes, pickaxes, and oil for your lantern, resources that are all expendable. Your party members are valuable not only for their combat skills but for their out-of-combat abilities: thieving, sneaking, even swimming. Most of all, Ruina allows for choice and consequence, a phenomenon far more common in western RPGs than Japanese RPGs. Say you stumble across treasure in a dungeon, but are ambushed by thieves who want the treasure for themselves. Do you give the treasure to the thieves? Stand your ground? Or attack the thieves before they can do the same to you? Since your ability to save in the dungeon is heavily rationed, you may find yourself having to choose between restarting a save or living with the messy outcomes of your choices.

There’s something to Ruina that grounds it in the Japanese RPG tradition, rather than a straightforward riff on Wizardry or Might & Magic. Those earlier games gave you several choices as to building your party, but little in the way of story or character. Ruina is a far more curated experience. On starting the game, you’re offered four “backgrounds” that align you with certain other characters, just one year before Dragon Age: Origins would pull a similar trick. Rather than being given the full freedom to explore a sprawling world, your options are limited to navigating a single, contained dungeon. The characters available to be recruited into your party have defined personalities and quirks — some are already good friends of yours, others are insufferable, and still others have significant flaws that speak to the kind of person they are versus their gameplay function. These are NPCs out of the Baldur’s Gate school, given the illusion of life, rather than the team of personalized murderers you’d recruit in an Etrian Odyssey game.

Very little else in the Japanese games scene is like Ruina. You could draw comparisons with games like Unlimited Saga and Scarlet Grace, representing the legacy of controversial SQUARE ENIX auteur Akitoshi Kawazu. You could similarly connect Ruina with Yasumi Matsuda’s experimental Crimson Shroud, which takes influence from tabletop to the point that it has the player rolling dice in-game. But Ruina is more accessible and polished than a Kawazu game, and far more fleshed out than Crimson Shroud. Even Etrian Odyssey, with its comparatively barebones story and characters, doesn’t quite compare. Ruina stands alone in the Japanese free games community, a legendary title that people respect but don’t fully understand how to replicate.

A few days ago I reached out to Kastel, an academic, writer, and translator who is very familiar with Japan’s RPG Maker scene, about where Ruina fit in Japan’s wider field of indie games. “I know many people in the furige (free game) scene who love the game to death,” they said. “But they also found it to be a hard sell due to its unique, almost western take on the scene. The fact that the game is even this popular speaks to something.” Despite its crunchy mechanics and niche inspirations, the game is popular enough to have spawned light novels, an honor not unique to it (other RPG Maker games have accomplished the same) but certainly significant. Kastel drew a comparison between Ruina and Darkest Dungeon, another weird and uncompromising game that draws from both Japanese and western RPGs. “Ruina is sorta different from everything, but you also see dungeon crawlers get inspired by it,” they said. “Not all games take direct inspiration, but you can’t help but see a little bit of Ruina here and there.”

So why did it take so long for anybody to translate Ruina? Dink isn’t the only person to try his hand at translating it into English; just last fall, another forum dweller placed an ad recruiting a translation team to tackle the game. The unfortunate reality is that translating text within the RPG Maker engine into English requires intensive and repetitive labor. “There’ve been tools developed by vgperson [a prominent translator of RPG Maker games] for RPG Maker 2000 and some other machine translation tools for newer games, but they all remain difficult to use for translators,” Kastel says. “The way games are scripted uses events inside the map and developers rarely name them. So not only do you need to edit it via the appropriate RPG Maker engine, but you also need to go through each event contextless unless the creator actually notes things down.” So, the enterprising Ruina translator doesn’t just need to translate all the text in the game into English. It isn’t even a question of whether or not to manually edit the game’s many pictures and custom menus into English by hand. It’s the sheer difficulty of navigating between thousands of (often poorly labeled) events and variables in the RPG Maker engine, ensuring not to introduce any new bugs or errors in the process, while also finding the time to do all of the above.

Dink was assisted by a friend of his named bool, who played through the game alongside the translation process and gave invaluable advice and fixes. “Uncovering the mystery in the game's story sort of ran parallel with the translation of the game itself,” bool says. “As the story progressed, the characters would decipher and learn more about the lore of the eponymous ruins within the game, and as the translation progressed, the same held true for us. It really captivated me to be a part of this process, and I started to look forward to each new area that I could explore and each new morsel of the story I could understand.”

Without bool’s efforts, it might have taken far longer to put together something workable. As it was, it took four exhausting months. “I worked long hours — 12+ hours a day, 6, sometimes 7 days a week on top of my day job — and very rarely used my free time on anything else,” Dink says. “I did manually input the text in RPG Maker 2000, which has raised some eyebrows because there are some very nice tools available for game translation that would have saved me a lot of time. However, a huge advantage of working directly in the editor is being able to see the game more or less as it appears to players. A Notepad file streamlines the basic translation process, but it also heavily obscures context, whereas the editor allows you to see what switches and variables are being used, what music is being played, and sometimes even helpful creator comments, all in the same relative order you'd experience it from within the game.” Dink had one more secret weapon up his sleeve: the experience of working with the RPG Maker engine as an adolescent. RPG Maker has a reputation of being a tool designed to churn out Dragon Quest clones with ease; but nobody knows the intense difficulty of forcing the engine to do something, anything, like a former RPG Maker developer does.

The English version of Ruina, as it currently exists, is a workable but inevitably compromised version of the game. Running the game requires installing the Japanese RTP pack of visual and audio resources for RPG Maker to function, along with the use of the EasyRPG player to provide English-language player name entry. There’s the matter of the custom menus, as well. Several of the menus have been replaced with functional English equivalents, but by Dink's own admission they could use an expert's attention to better compare to the original. Other pictures, such as place name displays, have yet to be replaced by English-language equivalents at all. And the strict character limits of RPG Maker 2000 led to some creative truncating when translating from Japanese to English, especially with item and skill descriptions.

But the existence of an English-language Ruina, one that renders the whole game playable from beginning to end with a readable script, is a miracle. Speaking for myself, I started the long process of learning Japanese two years ago in part so that I could one day play this game, never expecting there might one day be an alternative. Others in the Japanese RPG Maker scene, knowing the brutal difficulty of translating a game made in the earlier engines, were shocked that a game of Ruina’s complexity and length was successfully translated at all. Speaking for themselves, Dink and bool insist that their own story doesn’t matter much. What matters is the quality of the original game and the hard work developer Shoukichi Karekusa put into its creation. Anything else is an addendum, another version of the game that — while it cannot ever be the original — might at least make something resembling that original experience accessible to others.

Frankly speaking, I think there’s something to that. The “true” version of Ruina will always exist in its original form, released for free by Karekusa in 2008. It stands as the defining work of a creator who sought to create a unique experience combining the appeal of console and tabletop roleplaying games, with no concessions to market sensibilities. A creator who not only released their baby on the internet for free, but insisted that a game like Ruina must always and ever be free. An austere monolith, it stands side by side with Yume Nikki, Ib, and even Cave Story as one of the great works to come out of Japan’s independent scene. Now any English speaker can pick up and play this new version of Ruina, and learn what that monolith is and where it leads to.

You can download the English translation of Ruina here. For those who want to learn more about the Japanese RPG Maker scene, I recommend checking out Kastel’s page here.

Are you a Ruina fan? Let us know in the comments!

Adam W is a Features Writer at Crunchyroll. When he is not working through exercises in Wanikani, he sporadically contributes with a loose group of friends to a blog called Isn't it Electrifying? You can find him on Twitter at:@wendeego

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

By: Adam Wescott

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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lukecastellandeservedbetter · 4 years ago

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20. Ghosted

a/n: keep a watch on my page because I’m going to be doing a near-essay about why Hermes kids are somehow the most and least powerful demigods at the same time thanks. Also here’s a reminder that I didn’t forget about this fic, and a double reminder that Luke and Percy are most definitely brothers and this is a little bonding time for them while the rest of the crew are off on their own adventures.

read the others!: Masterlist

When Percy recounted the story, and told them to head to Charleston, Luke couldn’t help but groan.

“What’s wrong with Charleston?” Piper asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a real nasty place, with a lot of ghosts.” He sighed. “I ran into some trouble when I was there last time.”

“For the Titan Army?” It wasn’t a mean question, just an honest one from Percy. “Do we have to worry about army rejects? Or supporters?”

“No,” Luke shook his head. “I was like, 11 last time. But it doesn’t make it any less annoying to go back.”

“I have so many questions.” Leo said, staring at Luke.

“We don’t have time to answer them.” Annabeth interrupted. “Jason, you also seem uncomfortable with Charleston.”

“Yeah did you also get chased by ghosts?” Percy teased.

“I wasn’t chased by ghosts-!” Luke started to protest, but Annabeth held her hand up, effectively cutting him off, looking pointedly at Jason, who awkwardly recounted his quest with Reyna, casting apologetic glances to his girlfriend, who seemed just as uncomfortable.

“Alright, girls trip to this ghost that Reyna spoke to then,” Annabeth looked at Hazel and Piper, who nodded. “And Jason, you’ll lead a group back to the museum.”

“I wanna check out the cool weapons!” Leo grinned.

“Frank, you should also come, since you’re a son of Mars.” Jason added.

Frank seemed uneasy about heading so soon on another quest, but he agreed nonetheless.

“That leaves Percy, Luke and Hedge on board,” Annabeth observed, then frowned. “How do you keep lucking out on missions?”

Luke shrugged. “My talents haven’t really been needed, so I haven’t really gone.”

“What exactly are your talents?” Piper inquired, raising her eyebrow. “Besides Swordsmanship.”

Luke shrugged again. “Hermes' kids talents aren’t big, or flashy because they shouldn’t be. They’re meant to be sly and sneaky and in the shadows. I spent years on the run before I got to camp. I can pick any lock in an instant. I’m also quick, and good with directions. We have our own form of Charmspeak I guess.” He paused. “And recently I found out I can play the lyre surprisingly well, so if we ever need that, we’re set.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Leo laughed.

“I would never lie about something as serious as the lyre, Leo.” Luke said deadpanned.

Leo’s face dropped in surprise and he was left sputtering for a moment before the crew dissolved into a well deserved laughter. The tension that always seemed to lurk around the corner lifted a little, letting the demigods relax just for a moment.

“And the Achilles Curse.” Percy added. “You still have that.”

“Yeah but that isn’t Hermes related.” He pointed out. “It’s just… me related.”

“Can we get back to the plans please?” Annabeth drew everyone’s attention back as they laid out the groundwork for the plans.

The next day everyone left early in the morning, and Coach Hedge was still sleeping.

This left Percy and Luke bored in the mess hall.

“Why don’t we go explore?” Percy offered. “Just take a walk around?”

Luke looked up at him from his book and raised an eyebrow. “Are you crazy?”

“It’s just us, that shouldn’t be enough smell to attract any monsters.” He pointed out. “Come on, please?” He begged.

“Percy I don’t want to go walk around Charleston-”

“That’s right, I forgot you’re afraid of Charleston.” Percy huffed and flopped onto one of the big comfy chairs.

“I am not afraid of Charleston.” Luke protested, glaring at Percy.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, whatever you say.” Percy waved his hand absentmindedly, looking at the walls that displayed Camp Half-Blood.

“I am not!” Luke closed his book and tossed it aside, standing up. “Get up.”

“Why?” He raised his eyebrow.

“We’re going to explore Charleston.” Luke grumbled and headed out to grab his dagger from his room.

They snuck off the ship just fine and headed into town, down to the Charleston City Market.

They had very limited money, so they tried not to spend too long at any one stand, smiling and greeting merchants and other shoppers. It was a warm and calm day, and despite the welcoming atmosphere, Luke seemed a little on edge.

“What is with you?” Percy whispered to him. “Seriously dude, calm down. I don’t see any ghosts.”

“Not yet.” He mumbled, his eyes scanning the crowd.

Percy watched his friend with worry. He was starting to feel guilty about basically forcing Luke to go out on an adventure through the city with him, especially when it had such unpleasant memories for the older demigod. He cleared his throat as they continued through the crowds. “So, anything happen with that girl?”

Luke looked at Percy, surprised. “What?”

“The girl. From the candy shop?” He prompted, looking at a dyed blue leather bracelet curiously on one of the stands. “What was her name? Sophie?”

Luke couldn’t help the blush creeping up his neck. “I uh,” He fiddled with another leather cuff, this one brown and aged. “Sort of?”

“Sort of?” Percy repeated.

“Yeah, sort of. We had a date planned.” Luke shrugged. “At least I think it was a date.”

Percy looked at him, his eyebrows raising so high they nearly disappeared beneath his shaggy black hair. “And how did it go?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t go.” The older demigod fished in his pocket for some cash, handing it to the merchant who gave him the bracelet in his hand, as well at the blue one Percy had been eyeing.

Percy looked exasperated. “What do you mean you didn’t go?” He demanded.

Luke handed Percy his and put his own on carefully as they walked. “Something came up.” Luke shrugged, strangely reluctant to tell Percy that his disappearance caused Luke to miss the date.

Luke knew Percy felt guilty about disappearing, even if it wasn’t his fault. Between Annabeth, who Percy was currently with, and Sally who Percy couldn’t contact in case it tipped off the Romans, Luke knew the son of Poseidon was having a rough time adjusting to the merging of his old Greek life and his new, shorter Roman one. Percy would often wear hoodies around the ship to cover the tattoo that burned like a reminder of the time that he was gone from Camp, from their lives. He didn’t want to add this burden on him, on top of everything else.

But Percy wasn’t having it.

“What do you mean something came up?” He scoffed, struggling to tie the bracelet on.

“Well…” Luke trailed off, turning to Percy when they got out of the flow of traffic to help him tie the bracelet on.

Percy was smarter than anyone gave him credit for.

“Let me guess, your best friend disappeared off the face of the earth and you had to go save his sorry ass?” Percy asked, admiring the new bracelet.

“Who said you were my best friend?” Luke scoffed, but deep down, he knew it was true.

Percy rolled his eyes as they headed over to one of the candy stands. Luke picked out some sour cherries, and Percy grabbed some blue raspberry sours. They were quiet for a moment, Percy opting to pay this time.

The boys took their treats and headed out, making their way back to the ship.

“Thank you.” Percy said after a long silence.

“For what?” Luke looked at him confused.

“For coming to find me.” He said softly. “And the bracelet. And exploring Charleston, even though you’re afraid of ghosts.”

“I’m not afraid-” Luke sighed, before cutting himself off and shaking his head. “Of course I’m coming after you idiot, you said it yourself, you’re my best friend. Besides, I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you. You saved my ass, so it was my turn.” He shrugged, popping a sour cherry into his mouth.

“And I’m sorry you missed your date.” Percy added.

“Well, if I’m lucky I’ll get another chance when we get back.” He shrugged again.

Percy nodded and thought for a moment. “Why are you so antsy about Charleston?”

Luke groaned. “I was like, 11, and this kid comes up and starts messing with me so finally I tell him to fuck off and he gets spooked because he didn’t realize I could see him and then he gets a couple of his ghost friends and they run me out of town.”

Percy raised his eyebrow. “So you were chased by-”

“Yes Percy I was chased by ghosts!” Luke cut him off irritably. “Next time you go missing, I’m going to leave your ass to Rome.” He huffed.

“No you won’t.” Percy reminded him. “Mom would kill you.”

“You’re right. She is one scary lady when she wants to be.” He sighed and glanced at Percy.

His resolve broke and he chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling Percy’s hair. “Seriously, it’s good to have you back man.”

“It’s good to be back.” Percy grinned back, swatting Luke’s hand away. “And just for the record I would save your ass from the Romans any day.” He told him, fixing his hair.

“Good.” Luke nudged him. “I’m gonna change and do some practice, alright? I’ll catch you at dinner.”

Percy nodded and headed off to his own room.

Luke waited until Percy had disappeared before glancing over the edge of the ship. Standing on the greenery below was the same young, translucent boy from when Luke had been there over a decade ago, staring up at Luke with an unreadable expression. Luke raised a hand, waving to the kid. The kid, in turn, waved back after a moment, before disappearing entirely.

#Luke Castellan's Second Chance #luke castellan #percy jackson #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #pjo #hoo #Heroes of Olympus

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autumnblogs · 4 years ago

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Day 53: Homosuck

https://homestuck.com/story/6244

Caliborn’s work is a parody of Homestuck, the very webcomic which he inhabits. On another note, just as happened nearly 200 pages ago, the Comic has again suffered a hostile takeover by another narrator.

I wonder what the point of this is other than to call attention to the existence of a narrator? It certainly helps us to get a better sense for what is specific to the tone of Andrew’s narration. In the case of Caliborn, it should be immediately apparent that he is a hostile narrator; he doesn’t have the best interest of his charges in mind.

More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/6247

The general rule with God Tier powers seems to be that they allow Gods to either interact with their environment umediated by gaming abstractions, or give them some level of heightened awareness of the narrative layer.

https://homestuck.com/story/6252

You, Me, and Him, are all the Same Guy. The Author, the Audience, and the Narrator are One.

https://homestuck.com/story/6257

While Caliborn is generally conceived of as being an asshole fan, I’ve always kind of gotten the impression that he’s a manifestation of Andrew’s internal critic. Like, is this what Andrew thinks of himself? A lame self-indulgent fraud who makes his job look way easier than it is?

A guy who just likes to fuck with people? Perhaps.

https://homestuck.com/story/6265

We see this immediately after John has reached into the Juju and come unmoored from Canon, and while John isn’t literally dead, due to the fact that he has been alienated from one of the few experiences that is pretty much universal - subordination to fate - couldn’t we describe John’s condition as a kind of Death and Rebirth? Hmm.

John is Dead; Long live John.

https://homestuck.com/story/6266

So Caliborn is in charge of the narrative now; and not for no reason. Even though we’re going to get the Supercartridge expansion shortly, here’s what we should expect - what Caliborn narrates here will be parallel to what happens in the actual story.

The reality is that, Caliborn’s narration, and his will to dominate everything has been manifest in canon all along, predetermining the material and immaterial conditions that governs the lives of the characters. Everything from the patriarchy, to the haemospectrum - within the narrative of Homestuck, that’s all Caliborn’s doing, directly or indirectly. He may not be the originator of it - it could be, like a Juju, just this thing comprised of arbitrary rules with no comprehensible origin - but he is the prime mover of hegemony and hierarchy in the universe.

https://homestuck.com/story/6278

Time for some more horrible glitches.

I believe that the glitches in the session, and the hostile takeover by an evil narrator correspond to the emotional condition of the protagonists - their despair is metaphysically intertwined with the collapse of the conditions of the reality that they inhabit.

Just as Terezi’s decision to go kill Vriska, and Rose’s decision to go kill Jack Noir correspond to the deterioration of Homestuck act the end of Act 5, the complete misery of everyone involved with the resumed session here midway through Act 6 causes the narrative itself to have a dissociative episode.

Everyone is too sad and angry, and as such, cannot currently be conveyed in a less shitty fashion.

https://homestuck.com/story/6293

So, here’s something interesting.

When Jade dies, she dies a Just death. Squashed underneath her own house like the Wicked Witch of the West.

What are we to gather from this? I think what we are to gather is that, while she is certainly being manipulated by her Imperious Condescension, we should take from her behavior that Jade is doing what she wants to do. She is considered to be basically responsible for her actions by her author.

We already know that Jade has anger issues, loves to be in control, and has doggy urges. I think in the same way that Crocker-Tier Jane helps to reveal a lot of the issues that Jane has buried deep down, Grimbark Jade helps us to see that all is not well in Waffleville with Jade.

https://homestuck.com/story/6302

Yet another little detail I missed on my previous readthroughs; Dave hasn’t said much explicitly in Act 6 but the fact that he has confronted how he really feels about Bro is manifest - the Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff graffiti he drew in his bedroom in his sleep is now visible while he’s awake too.

https://homestuck.com/story/6313

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Dave doesn’t have an insincere bone in his body. He is, as Nepeta might put it, a guy who likes to play games.

https://homestuck.com/story/6314

Poor guy’s reaction to his own emotions is one of guilt and shame - he literally cringes when John appears from nowhere and catches him in his little outburst.

https://homestuck.com/story/6323

I wonder exactly what is making Dave have such an emotional reaction to encountering Caledfwlch again. Like, is it just Sburb-trauma? Is it really a Karkatian outburst? Is his specific ire directed at his quest related to his rejection of his Bro’s worldview? I think any or all of those things could be true, but I don’t have an opinion formed yet.

https://homestuck.com/story/6327

Two things.

I think it’s fascinating that, in spite of her enjoyment of nasty clowns, the Condesce’s emissaries do actually express a way with words in terms of conveying her desires. Maybe this is the classy sophistication that Dirk talks about.

Also, attacking Karkat’s failure to breed a healthy frog is really the lowest blow possible. She’s the only one he confided that in.

https://homestuck.com/story/6349

Rose is completely awash. She has been since her Mom died, of course, with the exception of some brief moments of absolutely necessary sobriety. But she hasn’t had a clue what she’s supposed to do with herself ever since her Mom died, and it’s absolutely destroying her.

https://homestuck.com/story/6382

Think we’ll pause here for the evening.

As always, it is a pleasure to be your guide through this human emotion called Homestuck.

I beat Manus, Father of the Abyss for the first time in Dark Souls today, at least the “Right” way. You can cheese him by shooting him with huge arrows from outside of his boss arena, but I’m pretty stoked about it. Oh yeah, in case I haven’t mentioned (and I think I probably have), aside from the fact that I am a Homestuck aficionado, my more impressive credential is that I have, in fact, beaten Dark Souls.

Anyway, enough of that horseshit. See you tomorrow, Same Cam Time, Same Cam Channel.

#liveblogging #commentary

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ladykatibeth · 4 years ago

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“Missing”

Fandom: Sander Sides

Rating: Teen for swearing

Summary:The crown prince of the kingdoms goes on a quest to find his brother, meanwhile a famers kid meets up with a friend.

A/N: Will be continued,if you want to feel free to ask questions about the characters! I have my inbox open. Feel free to reblog.

Remus was Missing.

Remus was missing and Roman didn’t know where he was. Remus was missing, and he was gone for good this time, and Roman didn’t know what to do.

Remus was missing--his twin was missing. His twin was missing, Remus was--

Roman should have done something, noticed sooner. Or even noticed at all. Remus had always been loud, obnoxiously loud, Roman had remarked a couple of times. Remus had been a bit quieter than usual, the past week. But Remus had always had his ups and downs, despite what it might have seemed Remus couldn’t keep up his high energy forever. Every once in a while he ended up crashing.

Roman should have known though. Should have picked it out. Should have noticed. But he had been so busy last week. Well, busier than usual. There's always lessons, boring parties where adults talked about stupid things, and other such duties. But that week he had been preparing to do a speech, anxiously prepping and preparing. He had been so stressed, being crown prince was no easy task, honestly sometimes he just wanted to get away.

Maybe that's why Remus left.

Maybe--

Roman could feel his breath hitch in his throat, his eyes were wet, why was he crying? Why couldn’t he breathe?

Roman felt a hand on his shoulder. He tensed as he suddenly remembered where he was. His hands were gripping the bed. The breath slowly returned to his lungs, maybe he had been cursed. Cursed by some breath stealing fairy. That would actually be a good idea for a story, he’d have to return to that later.

“Roman?” Right. Later. He looked up to see Logan looking down at him with a concerned expression on his face. Roman could almost find it in himself to smile. Logan would know what to do. Logan always knew what to do.

“Are you okay?”

“Do I look like I'm okay?” Roman threw his arms around, nearly hitting Logan, who had started to sit down next to Roman.

Logan frowned. “I don't understand, you and I both know disappearing is not out of the realm of your brother's usual behavior. He runs off somewhere, every third week.” His frown deepened. “You both do, actually, no matter how hard I try to stop you.”

Logan had become Roman and Remus’s court companion, by nature of being literally the only other child that lived in the castle. The title wasn't exactly official, but that's what everyone had taken to calling him, almost affectionately. And Logan did the job as best as he could. Making sure neither one of them got themselves killed.

Logan also happened to be the son of Roman and Remus’s tutor. He excelled in almost everything, math, science, geography even English, though he struggled with the metaphors. Out of the three of them, Logan had always gotten the best scores. Roman might have called it favoritism if he didn’t know Logan so well.

Roman passed Logan the note he held crumpled up in his hand. In his despair he had almost forgotten it had been there. Logan carefully read over the material, his face changing only slightly, so slightly Roman wouldn't have caught it if he hadn't known what to look for. He squinted adjusting his glasses.

Of course, knowing what was in the letter himself helped. Roman had reread it over and over again, after finding it on his nightstand that morning.

Ro,

I'm leaving. For good this time. Don’t blame yourself, don't try to come after me, because I don’t want to come back. I don't know what I'll do next, maybe become a pirate? Or live in the woods in a cave,like a bear, and run around naked and eat wild plants! Who knows. I’ll decide later. Anyway, I’ll write to you if I find a way to from wherever I’m going. Say goodbye to Lo for me.

Ps. Don't show this to Mom.You know she’ll come after me.

Pps. If you show this to Mom I'll come back to the castle and bludgeon you. I am not above fratricide.

Roman had quickly hid that note under his pillow. And then he pulled it out to read it again, before sticking it back. He had been doing that all morning. He had at first felt angry, how dare he leave him to do this by himself, that hadn’t been the plan! That's what twins were for! So you didn't have to do things like stealing cookies from cooks, or running kingdoms, alone!

So that was that then. His brother was gone, he left, purposefully disappeared. Roman was going to tackle him if he found him. When he found him. Determination flooded into him.

Logan looked up at him. Probably seeing something in his eyes, he said “You’re going to go try to find him.” He looked at him disapprovingly.

Shit.

“I have to--!” Roman said. Roman drew short, and quickly looked around. He lowered his voice, “I'm going, and you can’t stop me!” Logan glared at him.

Roman glared back, harder. Logan maintained his gaze for a second then looked away, sighing. “Fine, then, I will accompany you.”

“You don't have to-” Roman said. Logan raised an eyebrow.

“I know I don't have to.” He walked over to Roman’s closet and grabbed a bag. “Pack some clothes, I’ll make a list of things we need, and draft a plan.” He placed the bag down next to Roman.

For the first time today Roman smiled. He could almost taste the adventure coming up on the horizon.

-----

Patton couldn’t wait to see his friend! He had said they could meet up today. Patton was so excited he sped through his chores. And boy, there were a lot!

Not that Patton ever really minded that much. He loved the animals on the farm. And he liked getting up early, and getting to watch the sun rise. The only problem was that he had finished too early. By the time he had gotten back it was already twelve O’clock and he still had two more hours to wait.

It was currently 1:30. He still had thirty minutes to wait, but his friend was rarely on time. Sometimes he came early, but mostly he came “fashionably” late as he had called it once. Patton had laughed.

Patton was sitting by the edge of the forest, near his house. The grass underneath Patton's hands was soft, and the sun shone brightly through the trees. The wind felt breezy, tousling through his hair. Patton giggled.

Patton's thoughts wandered to when he met his friend. It was almost a year ago, Patton had been playing around near the woods. His mama had told him to never to go in them. So Patton stayed around them, sure to never get too close to the trees. But Patton had thought he heard crying.

At first he was able to convince himself it was nothing, just the wind rustling through the trees, but the sound grew louder until it could not be classified as anything but sobbing. All thoughts of getting in trouble fled him. Someone was hurting, he needed to help them.

He had wandered slowly into the woods, holding his breath. Barely making a sound. He walked on the path, trying to listen from where he thought he had heard the sound. If somebody was hurt he had to help. Nevermind the fear slowly creeping up his spine.

As he journeyed farther and farther into the woods, the volume of the crying would cycle. Just as he thought he was about to reach the person, it would decrease again. Patton was just starting to think that he’d been tricked when he heard movement in the trees.

He turned around.

Nobody was there.

He slowly turned forward.

A snake was hanging down from the tree, right by him. Patton screamed. He fell backwards and froze. The black and yellow snake drew up close to him. So close he could see the wrinkly outline of its scales. Its eyes were cat-like. The snake's head nodded to the side, an expression that, on a human, would certainly be read as amused curiosity.

Patton got up and ran.

He could feel air rushing past him. He was running on autopilot, passing through trees and ducking under vines. Low hanging branches and thorny bushes nicked at his skin. He nearly avoided tripping over a couple of twigs and branches. He slowed down to a light jog, before stopping and sitting on a log to catch his breath. Patton looked around.

Nothing looked familiar. Patton thought he had come out from his left side. He walked back that way. Trying to go the way he remembered coming from, turning left and right. Just as he thought he would never make it out of these woods, he saw light. Light! Patton ran toward it.

Only to find himself back in the same place he started.

He tried again, and again, changing directions, taking lefts where last time he took rights. But every time he found himself in the same place. It didn't help that the tree markers seemed to flip and change randomly. And Patton couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. “Why cant you just leaf me alone?” He tried to joke, but his punning fell flat.

He sat back down on his log, and started to cry.

He heard something move in the trees. His breath hitched, and he looked up. A boy about his age was sitting on a branch and looking down at him, lazily dangling a leg off the side of the tree.

His clothes were dark. Pretty fancy for the woods, Patton thought. The boy had a button down shirt, and a cloak wrapped around him. He had yellow gloves, and a hat Patton had never seen before. Patton thought he looked like a storybook villain.

“Crying is, absolutely, one of the best, most productive, responses one could have to getting lost in the woods.” Patton whipped his face with his sleeve. That was kind of a mean thing for him to say.

“Hello!” Patton said, trying to make himself seem happier than he felt. “My name is Patton!”

The boy looked sharply down at him and hissed a half-whisper, “Could you be any louder? I’d love for you to make it known to the whole world that I’m up here!”

Patton frowned. This convo wasn’t going well at all. He pushed forward, and half-whispered “Sorry, it's nice to meet you, what's your name?”

The boy tipped his hat. “You can call me Deceit.” They sat in silence for a minute.

“Well…” Patton began.

“Well?” Deceit said.

“Well, It's just, I'm kinda lost….”Patton trailed off.

“Clearly.”

“And you seem to know these woods a bit…..” Deceit’s expression didn’t change.

“So maybe,” Patton paused, “Maybe you could help me out?” The end of his statement went high.

Deceit must have seen the desperation on his face. Because he said, “Look, I'm not in the habit of doing favors for people, but I am willing to make an exchange.”

Patton gasped. A snake had appeared where Deceit once was. It slithered up the branch and down the tree. As soon as the snake hit the ground, Deceit reappeared.

So he was the one that scared him earlier!

“Here's the deal, I will help you home, if you agree to do me a favor.” Deceit held out his hand to shake it. Patton reached for it, automatically. Stopping just short of shaking it.

“Wait.” Patton had said tilting his head curiously “What favor?”

“You’ll know it when the time comes.” Patton hesitated for a moment, and then stood up and shook Deceits hand.

And in the end that had turned out to be a great decision! Patton had gotten a new friend! A friend that was running towards him right now. Now that’s a bit weird. Deceit doesn't runs, he just slithers all over the place. Patton giggled a bit at the joke.

His smile became tented with concern when he noticed Deceit had a look of panic on his face. Patton grabbed him by the arms. “Hey, hey, what's the matter, kiddo?”

“Patton, you have to hide me!” Deceit said.

#sander sides #deceit sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #missing #fanfic

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legolaslovely · 5 years ago

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Stay

A/N: HAPPY FILI FRIDAY FRENS HAVE SOME FLUFF! So this story was inspired by @mewpet ‘s so so beautiful art of Older!Fili which is here and below. GO GIVE HER SOME LOVE RIGHT THIS INSTANT CLICK AND REBLOG FRIENDS. I can’t even tell you how much I love it and probably shouldn’t say out loud how often I look at it LOL Anyway, I’m pretty proud of this one, holy BANTER and FLUFF I hope you guys enjoy

Pairing: Fili x Reader

Word Count: 1,673

Warnings: Fluff, language if damn is a swear word to you haha

Summary: (Y/N) grew close with the line of Durin during the quest to reclaim Erebor, but had to leave them once the battle was over to return to her ailing father in the Iron Hills. After thirty two years, she returns to Erebor for Thorin’s wedding ceremony and is reunited with members of the company.

It felt as if you had finally dozed off when another chill ran through your body and left you groaning out loud. After a long debate with yourself, you threw the heavy furs and blankets off your legs and tip toed over to the window that was stuck open. This was your fourth attempt to close the damn thing. The stone floor was rough like frozen snow beneath your feet and your dry, red fingers felt as if they would tear off as you pulled on the unmoving window.

“After thirty two years, you’d think they’d have better windows in this damn mountain,” you mumbled to yourself.

You’d arrived at Erebor from the Iron Hills just hours ago, being later than you’d intended. You’d planned for a week of travel, but the snow slowed your journey and you were out in the cold for an extra day. After a small but warm welcome in the late evening, all you wanted to do was slide into a cozy bed and sleep, but it seemed even that simple luxury was trying its best to elude you tonight.

You wrapped your borrowed dressing gown around you tight, tying the string in a bow, before you padded over to the door of your chambers to peek around again for some guard or kind passerby who may help. When you stuck your head out into the dark corridor, you smiled to yourself, seeing a familiar head of golden hair glow in the low torch light.

“Fili!” you whispered.

He turned to you, returning your grin, allowing his bright blue eyes to sparkle in amusement. “What is it, (Y/N)? Why are you still awake?”

“I could ask you the same question,” you said, hanging out the door. “Will you come in here and help me close this damn window?”

He chuckled. “(Y/N) asking for help. This may be a first.”

“Just get in here.”

He followed you inside and closed the door behind him. “Mahal, it’s freezing in here,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Still sharp as a tack, you are,” you mumbled.

“Do you want my help or not?”

You nudged him to the far wall, pulling your robes around you in an attempt to keep the warmth in. “Please, Fi. I-it’s stuck open.” You surprised even yourself with the nickname. It slipped out and you watched his lips twitch.

You watched him fiddle with the lock and the hinge, doing exactly what you had done four times before. Then, he smacked it further open with the heel of his hand and pulled it shut with a slam. He wiggled the handle and the window didn’t budge. “Well, that won’t be opening again any time tonight. I’ll have someone replace it tomorrow. I’m sorry it gave you trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it, Fili. Thank you.”

You didn’t know quite what to do now. You had exchanged letters with Fili and his family while you lived in the Iron Hills, but you hadn’t actually seen him since Erebor was reclaimed. That had been thirty two years ago.

“Did you have a safe journey? We didn’t get a chance to speak much when you first arrived,” he said, walking over to the dark, cold hearth next to the bed. He knelt on the hard floor and began to stack a large pile of wood together.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said. “I don’t want to keep you.”

You heard him snicker but he didn’t turn from his work. “I have been waiting to see you again for thirty years, (Y/N). You’re not keeping me. And before you say it, I’m fully aware you know how to light a fire. I haven’t forgotten how you could get a blaze going faster than any of us.”

You kicked your foot out to nudge his hand. “That’s because I never stacked the wood like that.”

His hand dropped and he sent you a playful glare. He yanked a chair by its leg and set it next to him. “Sit. Now. And tell me about your journey.”

You breathed out a laugh and did as you were told, tucking your feet under you. “There’s not much to tell. The weather didn’t lift an inch the whole trip, it snowed every day.”

“You can thank Thorin for setting his wedding in the dead of winter.” Fili struck the flint, sending a hot spark into the pile of wood.

“Waiting for good weather is the last thing you want to do when you’re in love. But he can blame himself when he has an extra guest staying in the mountain until spring because I will not travel in the snow again,” you laughed, watching Fili pull another chair in front of the fire and sit next to you.

“You know you’re always welcome here.”

You hummed. You couldn’t help but smile when you looked at him. Thirty two years of hard work and duty to his people had only made him more handsome. His hair had grown long, but he wore it the same old way and the edges of it glowed red in the light of the fire. He was larger and stronger than when you’d last seen him. When he smile at you, lines around his eyes revealed he had probably spent most of his time laughing. It made you glad.

“The years have barely touched you,” he said. You laughed because he’d been thinking the same thing you were.

“I see you haven’t been so lucky,” you said. He dropped his head and laughed, but you took his hand. “I kid, Fili. You look wonderful. You look happy.”

Your eyes met and he nodded. Then he squeezed your hand. “And you look cold. Come over here.” He stood, not allowing your answer, and lifted you from your chair to place you in his lap instead.

“Fili, this is not necessary,” you laughed.

“It is. You’re just about frozen solid and I won’t have Thorin punishing me for failing to take care of you.” He reached for one of the furs on the bed and wrapped it around your shoulders. “Now,” he sighed. “I believe you were just telling me how much you’ve missed me.”

You breathed out a laugh and set your blanket covered arm around his shoulders. “I’ve missed everyone very much.” You let your free hand lift to run a finger through the thick hair that covered his cheek. “But, yes, I have missed my favorite dwarf. How is Kili, anyway? I haven’t seen him yet.”

Fili leaned his head back and groaned. Then he laughed. “He’s very excited to see you. He hasn’t stopped chattering since you sent your letter telling us you were coming to the ceremony. But he is terribly angry with you.”

“Why?”

“Because you haven’t come to visit us before now.” His hand snuck under the thick fur to hold your waist and you felt his thumb wave over your back. The mischievous twinkle in his eye was still shining.

“And this is how Kili feels?”

“Yes,” he said. “He also employed me to find out if you had any courting braids. Or bridal braids? Things of that nature. But I don’t see any.” His eyes roamed over your long, thick hair with a look of relief.

“No. None of those for me. What about him?” You looked to Fili’s hair as you spoke, not seeing anything out of the ordinary for him. You felt your stomach flip with joy, thinking he was still unattached.

“Oh, Kili, yes. You remember Tauriel?”

“Of course. How could I forget?” You let the fur slide from your shoulders, finally feeling warm. You weren’t sure if the heat you felt was from the roaring fire or if it was radiating from Fili himself. “And the rest of the company?”

He smirked, knowing you were playing his little game. “Well, Thorin, obviously. But other than that, no one else has… even looked at any other since you left.”

You barely nodded, feeling your breath get caught in your chest. “Does Kili have any other questions for me?”

His smile fell and he ran the back of his knuckles gently down your cheek. “Will you stay in Erebor? Not just until spring, but for good.”

“Well, I-”

“I know that you had to return to the Iron Hills after Erebor was reclaimed. You had to be with your father, to take care of him but aren’t you there alone now? Is there any reason for you to be away from- us any longer?”

His grip on you had tightened as he spoke. You remembered how badly you had wanted to stay in Erebor with him thirty years ago, instead of going back to the Iron Hills. And now, you really were alone there, but if you stayed here at the mountain, you’d never be alone. And though you and Fili had never voiced your feelings for each other, you knew in your heart they were there and returned with equal fervor.

“I need you here,” he said. “I can’t bear to watch you leave again. You’ve broken my heart once, please don’t do it again. I love you, (Y/N), and I want you to stay with me.”

His words shook you. Leaving him the first time had ruined you, but you didn’t think it affected him that much. Your trembling fingers held his jaw. “I won’t do anything to hurt you ever again. I’ll stay. But only because Kili wants me to.”

He reached for the back of your neck and pulled you down to meet his kiss. His fingers roamed your face and hair while you wrapped your hands around his shoulders. His kisses were slow and deep, radiating the same warmth you’d felt the first time you’d met him. In this moment, you felt like your life had finally truly begun and you made a vow to yourself. You’d never leave his side again.

You drew away, resting your forehead against his. “I love you too, kurduwê.”

Taglist and those who may enjoy <3 : @emrfangirl @misslongcep @raindancer2004 @ladybugg1235 @xxbyimm @burningcoffeetimetravel @fizzyxcustard @fire-flv @nerdbirdsworld @deepestfirefun @teagarages @luna-xial

#Fili #Fili x reader #Older!Fili #Older!Fili x reader #writing based on art #the hobbit #the hobbit fandom #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fic #the hobbit fanfiction #lotr #lotr fandom #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #Dean O'Gorman #dean o'gorman x reader

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monsterdoodles · 5 years ago

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Thoughts on Steven Universe Future 3-13-2020

Together Forever: This episode was a lot less about Steven and Connie, and more about just Steven than expected.

Connie has some plans for college, but we don’t quite get to know what her career goals are exactly. She’s planning on getting into politics, but I’m not sure at what level or what branch. Not that that matters to the episode too much or anything. The University of Jayhawk is all the across the country from Delmarva. This is a distance that Steven cannot emotionally handle right now. Upon this realization, he sinks down into his bed, part of his “floating” powers.

It is good to see that he and Connie keep in touch at least over video calls. On a slightly more concerning note, Steven has memorized Connie’s schedule down to the minute.

Garnet says at the end of the episode, that there was no future in which Steven wouldn’t propose to Connie. I’m guessing had he talked to Garnet instead, he would have proposed to her out of spite or in an effort to prove Garnet wrong.

Instead of Garnet, we do get Ruby and Sapphire this episode. Steven doesn’t seem too surprised by their appearance in this episode, so I imagine that they have been teaching these classes for a while. Ruby is doing some kind of nature scout class, did she make those badges herself, or are they part of a nationally recognized scout organization? Either way she’s teaching some gems and Onion about the beauty of nature. Steven tells her about how Connie seems to really have her life together and knows what she is doing.

I can see a parallel here with Ruby and Sapphire, and Steven and Connie. In this particular case, Steven is Ruby. He doesn’t have the foresight that Connie does right now. He, in a way, lacks future vision.

Ruby, either lacking the knowledge of what might be socially acceptable or being too excited about prospect of Steven expressing his love, tells Steven that he should propose to her. Ruby’s logic here is that it worked for her. She ignores the fact that she and Sapphire had been together for over 5000 years and that they are adults.

Steven visits Sapphire as well, she is teaching a class on alternate timelines. I wonder what that entails exactly. I suppose that they do all of those equations that she explained to Steven, but with the understanding that the future still isn’t as predictable as one might think. She also encourages Steven to propose to Connie despite the fact that she is aware of the sociological implications of this, but she’s a hopeless romantic about it anyways.

Steven declare to the gems, that this will be his last day as Steven Cutie-Pie Demayo Diamond Quartz Universe. Interesting that that interaction with Garnet from almost 4 years ago left that impression on him. That is the same day that he learned about future vision, so I suppose that just stuck in his mind. Also, was he planning to take Connie’s last name or add Maheswaran to his plethora of middle names (that he thinks belongs on official documents for some reason).

He makes his plan. He gets jam, glow sticks and cake. On top of the world, he dresses his best and asks her out from outside her window. He says they’ll be back in 15 minutes (this reminds of an episode of How I Met Your Mother, but the season and name escape me).

At the beach, in the same place they first met, Steven has a picnic set up. Had this just be a romantic gesture or a proposal to date, not marriage, things probably would have gone a lot better for him. Connie responds well to all this. She has been shown to have romantic feelings for Steven in the past, she attempted to kiss him in An Indirect Kiss and she successfully kissed him on the cheek in the movie. Steven sings his song with the sentiment of “I want to be me with you”. The lyrics of which, like many love songs in my opinion, have a codependent quality to them. Steven doesn’t know his future, so he wants someone else to be his future, to be someone else.

Connie, very sensibly, says no. They are young, have never discussed this, and I’m pretty sure they aren’t even an item. She also tells him, “It’s a not now” because there is plenty of time. Steven is in his unending quest for stability, and he still hasn’t found it. Throughout this conversation Connie and Steven occupy opposite spaces on screen. They are in different places in their lives right now, sure and unsure, stable and unstable.

I think if Steven were around more teens his age, he might not be feeling this way, so much at least. He would realize how many people don’t have their lives figured out at this age. Many people his age just want to graduate high school. He really needs to talk to Greg about this. Greg wanted to be a musician, but he was also a community college drop out. He didn’t have everything figured out. (I’m pretty sure this will be part of next week’s episodes in some way)

Connie is willing to stick around when her alarm goes off. Steven tells her to go, probably because he doesn’t want to burden her and because he won’t be holding it together for long. As soon as she leaves, he lies back and creates a crater. The shockwaves ruining the picnic. He lies there until dark.

When he gets up, Garnet is there. She explains to him the inevitability of this situation. She tells him that the hole he is trying to fill won’t be filled by Connie or Stevonnie. Connie is not his “missing piece”. In this scene, Garnet is towering and Steven feels almost as small as his younger self. I think this accentuates how young and foolish Steven was this episode. He holds a frustrated look during this conversation. He says he blames Garnet for making this all look so easy. Reminds me of Cry for Help/Friendship. Pearl had felt the same way about Ruby and Sapphire/Garnet. Steven and Pearl craved that perceived perfection.

Steven then eats his feelings.

Growing Pains: I was wrong in my prediction that Steven would either be stuck in pink mode or have a human ailment.

The episode opens with a scene from the newest instalment of dogcopter. In the movie, Dogcopter proposes to a dog named Drew. Steven laments the fact that “everyone else is getting married”. He continues to eat his feelings like at the ending of last episode, and then his body starts getting out of control. He keeps growing sporadically. He mostly ignores it because it doesn’t hurt him physically.

He wants to reach out to someone who isn’t Connie right now. He can’t reach the gems, so he calls Greg, who is on tour with Sadie and Shep right now. Greg is having a great time, and Steven won’t rain on that parade, even when Greg offers to call him back. He almost wants to call Connie, but she calls him instead. His shapeshifting forces him to answer her call.

He can no longer hide what’s going on with him, since it is manifesting physically. Connie suggests that he should see a doctor. He doesn’t want to bother anyone even when he is physically unwell. He even describes it as a waste of time. Connie persuades him.

Steven pays Doctor Maheswaran a visit, Connie escorts him in. As soon as Connie leaves the room for them to conduct tests, she calls Greg.

This episode really explores how both human and gem Steven really is. He has a human body and it is effected like a human body is. But he is also a gem, it makes his body react unusually and if he’s fractured skeleton is any indication, it is keeping him alive.

Dr. Maheswaran finds out about Steven’s physical traumas through his x-ray. She asks him if he had any particularly traumatic experiences. Steven basically recalls the entire show. Dr. Maheswaran goes on to describe the physical aspects of trauma and the way the body reacts in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen in any piece of fictional media. Steven’s body is trying to protect him from danger that isn’t there anymore. Minor stress to him is now the equivalent to major stress. To make things worse, he feels as though his support system is gone.

When he thinks back to the proposal, things go haywire. As his body continues to grow in size, he takes up more and more of the room. He is almost too big to fit. There is nowhere left for him to hide. He yells “I can’t be around you right now” much in the way he yelled “I just want to fix it” back in Volleyball. His yell shatters the windows.

Greg finally arrives, revealing that Connie had called him. Connie still very much cares about Steven. He explains to Greg that everything feels like the end of the world to him now.

Receiving understanding and support from Greg is what gets Steven to go back to his normal size. At home he continues to explain his fears and worries. All of which, as Greg explains, are normal. Steven now knows what his problem is, or at least one aspect of it, but I don’t think his problems are solved just yet. From the way he “swells up” in response to stress in this episode, I think something big is about to happen in the show. Something so big, that for his body to protect him from it, he will grow into the giant monster from the opening theme song.

Predictions for next week:

Discussion of leaks ahead

Mr. Universe: Still no episode description for this one, but I imagine this is where Steven crashes the van. Steven is still not in a great place right now, and while he seems more willing to talk about things, his body is still reacting in a way that is unsafe for him and others. I believe that this will lead to the van crashing. As others have pointed out, this episode may involve Pearl because she played a big part in the episode Mr. Greg. I still somehow think this episode will be the story of how Rose decided to have Steven, if not it will be about how Greg made the decision to drop out of college and take on the rockstar persona Mr. Universe.

Fragments: This is where that first leak came from, the “leave me alone I need space one”. I’m still not 100% sure what “fragments” is in reference to. Others I have discussed with have suggested memories. I am not entirely sure the direction of this.

#steven universe #steven universe future #su spoilers #suf spoilers #su leaks #suf leaks #long post #j posts about stuff #c #corrupted steven theory #Did tumblr like just eat this post or something #what's going on???

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miqo-tales · 4 years ago

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5.3some: part 1

Was it worth it? Lets see.

Spoilers lay beneath, of course.

MSQ

SQEX not wasting any time bombarding you with cute with Riqi-Tio, huh?

Apothecary lady certainly has the right idea, giving an aspiring Warrior of Light a fetch quest.

Also, here start the chemist job theories.

OK, 1) why do the Scions need to give a fancy name to every room in their HQ? 2) WHY IS THIS PLACE SO DARK?

I’m glad somebody remembered Y’shtola.

Eldibus presents: Final Fantasy 14 Abridged

“Last time we fought I was the victor.” Oh not you too. I kicked your ass, man. You just happen to be fucking immortal and I got a raging headache due to everyone’s pet catboy.

This bit with the constellation stones is a bit weird. I have to assume Hythlodaeus was leaving them for us?

Nice, the falling stars are still around if you port to other zones. Seems the ominous music only plays in Eulmore and Crystarium though.

Doing the Dwarf crafting quests while the sky is falling is hilarious.

I... assume we’re not actually killing these summoned people. Based on what Elidibus says, I suppose they’re sort of shades of those heroes.

I love how even the in-game characters aren’t buying the writer’s desperate attempts to say “no, no, no, oh no, the Exarch isn’t going to die!”

People keep saying there’s no time and then spend time prattling on.

I feel a bit slighted that this battle with Elidibus is doing the same “cool summoning sequence of 7 other people” that they did at the end of 5.0.

Alrighty, and he’s dead.

OK, show of hands, how many people ever noticed a graveyard next to the Journey's Head Inn?

Wow, Runar, you poor bastard. (Also, hats off to the artist that drew fan art of this exact scene like a fucking year ago? What a prophet.)

GET A ROOM.

Maybe we should have color coded these soul crystals so I knew who's who.

Alrighty, and he’s back.

Wow, guy hanging out with Zenos turned out to not even remotely be who I thought they might. Also he’s... suddenly a completely different personality? Well, whatever.

The Heroes' Gauntlet

Not much to it, honestly. Nice music, feels like the mobs hit rather hard though.

Also I had a hell of a time getting initial aggro on them. I dunno if my timing was off or what.

I wonder if we’ll get any backstory to second boss. I mean, people will obsess about her regardless, but there seems to be something to her.

Final boss has some neat mechanics.

The Seat of Sacrifice

Geez, that action event is harsh. I started taking a sip of my drink when it came up cause I was expecting the usual lazy button tapping, then I’m slamming it down cause suddenly I’m at 25% left on the bar.

Actually needing to use tank LB3 in a battle? There’s a rarity. I was waiting for the usual thing you beat up to stop the big attack. Wasn’t even remotely expecting to need LB3.

I was really expecting more from the ice and fire mechanics. I hope the EX is a bit more interesting.

...

Honestly this patch doesn’t really hit too many high notes with me in regards to the MSQ. It’s partially cause, honestly, I don’t care that much about the Exarch / G’raha. I vaguely recall finding him annoying back in 2.x, so him coming back was mostly just “oh hey neat callback”. Additionally, in my version of this story, S’era is not this familiar with G’raha. She wasn’t the Warrior of Light, so she never went to the Crystal Tower and never met him. So most of the interaction your character has with the Exarch is quite different for S’era in my head.

It’s also sort of an odd thing to me that the Exarch kind of... forces himself onto himself? Like, that’s not really G’raha Tia anymore, right? It’s the Exarch. No amount of adorable hand-wringing and ear moving changes that it’s a 100+ year old man with a shit ton of baggage in his younger body. Feel free to find that cute if you want, I think of it as pretty weird.

The other reason this doesn’t land too well is because of Elidibus, the flat stale bread villain of FFXIV. Could he have been interesting? Sure. Is he? In the last hour of the content he’s part of, sure. The rest? Bland, boring, unimportant. Elidibus spends most of 2.x just being a bad guy that dresses differently than the others and who is slightly more polite. Then in 3.x he’s just sorta there at times in the background. In 4.x he’s just Zenos. And in 5.x he shows up at the last minute and asks for his close up. He’s the mover and shaker in the background of so many plots, but he’s only still in the background. Where was all this emotion that he’s now showing in 5.3? He wasn’t even like this in 5.2!

I like FFXIV’s story, don’t get me wrong. 5.0 was really, really good. But 5.1 - 5.3 has sorta struggled to move me because it’s been too busy teasing the Exarch’s death and dancing around every single sub-plot concerning the Ascians, the Ancients, the Fourteenth, and your character. Not to mention Zenos and how he’s somehow connected as well. And I’m just worried that a lot of that will never really be explored now. All the Ascians that it concerned are dead, and the new one clearly doesn’t care about any of it.

All of that said, I’d also like to say this. It is.. astonishing how good the dev team has gotten at character animations at this point. The scene back in Revenant’s Toll with the dev team joking about Alisaie not getting a new look was amazing in terms of how the characters moved and their expressions. I really look forward to more of that.

#ffxiv #5.3

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phoenotopia · 5 years ago

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2019 December Update

The game is officially playable from beginning to end!

That battle has concluded...

Soon begins the war! But first, a brief reprieve for the holidays.

And I must throw in the usual caveats. We're still playtesting, we're still polishing, we still gotta get age ratings, more red tape, etc etc. And most importantly, we need to figure out the launch strategy. Think Megaman, charging his shot for 5 and a half years... We're not allowed to miss at this point. It has to HIT.

Luckily, we're in a relatively stable position where we don't have to rush the game out immediately. It's not LAUNCH or STARVE - it's... take some time to aim a little. We don't want to launch in the shadow of a bigger behemoth game, and we don't want to launch completely unknown either. We have to build up the game's media presence, which has been neglected so far. I know it's annoying to have to continue to wait... but please bear with us a little longer!

Here's what we've been doing for the past couple months.

---------- THE SCRIPT ----------

The script sits at over 80,000 words. I didn't realize the significance until a teammate told me that that's actually as long as a novel! I looked it up, and sure enough, it's a little longer than the first Harry Potter. But unlike Harry Potter, hardly any of these words are wasted on, pffft, narration. It's all juicy dialogue!

(Some of the game's golden nuggets of dialogue)

There was actually a lot of mundanity getting to the end. Pirate, acting as my editor, caught tons of errors and inconsistencies. One of the most recurring issues had to do with capitalization. I like to capitalize things, often inconsistently. Some common questions that arose:

Why is this text highlighted yellow, and this one highlighted blue?

Why is this monster name capitalized, but this monster not?

Why is this item capitalized, and this one not?

... and so on!

All very mundane issues, but all very necessary to tackle. And there was a TON of 'em. (em vs 'em was another thing we had to make consistent). I actually did some research to see what capitalization rules Zelda had. From what I could tell, when it comes to animals and monsters in the Zelda universe:

All monsters are capitalized

All regular animals are not capitalized

The Cuccos are special, and ARE capitalized

(a collage of Zelda pictures I assembled to study)

In the Zelda universe, all regular items are lowercase, but highlighted blue when mentioned in a quest context (e.g. "butter", "hylian wheat"). Items can be uppercase, if they are special named items (e.g. "Sheikah Slate"). We adopted similar rules as Zelda in some cases, and deviated in others. For instance, in the Phoenotopia universe, there isn't a clear distinction between animals and monsters - that fish monster is really just an animal that happens to be the alpha predator in its natural habitat. So most entities are lowercase, but "big deal" entities can be uppercase.

(we made a formal document to consult whenever a question regarding capitalization arises)

---------- A SAMPLING of QUEST AND CHARACTERS ----------

A lot of new quests have arisen in our great writing effort extending over the past several months. And with it, new characters, big and small. I'll tease a sampling of some of them here (warning: some light spoilers ahead):

My favorite new quest is undoubtedly our game's new "Trading Quest". This one takes inspiration from the Zelda series - the trading quest similarly has you roaming the world and its towns in search of needy people who desire a particular item. Deliver them the item they desire, and get a new item. Do this 10 times, and the ultimate weapon awaits you at the end.

I tried some things to vary up the formula. Some NPCs don't reveal what they need right away - steps have to be taken to get them there. It's also possible to go down the wrong route in the sequence, and have to double-back. We try to keep it interesting.

---------- LOOT PLACEMENTS & GAME BALANCING ----------

A great effort was also spent towards balancing the game this past 2 months. Because even one good healing item, easily obtained, can throw the game's whole difficulty off-kilter. And this same principle applies to other areas, like the money economy and player powerup options. Altogether, they form a very delicate ecosystem for enjoyment.

One of the recent things I did for this game was put down exactly where each heart ruby, energy gem, and moonstone could be found. And this was actually a rather involved process because you have a limited number of rewards to distribute (you wouldn't want the final max HP count to be a weird number like 297). Put too many rewards in the beginning, and the late dungeons would have no rewards to offer. Put too much in the end, and the inverse happens.

I found myself going back into earlier areas and plundering their rewards to fill the later areas. And then to ensure a relatively even spread of rewards within each area themselves, I drew crude maps of the dungeons & their reward spots, so that they could be studied from a bird's eye perspective.

But it was still not enough. With NPC quests and towns also taking up their own allotment of the rewards, I found myself running low on things to distribute. So I went back to the books and upped the number of rewards across the board. Before there were 44 Heart Rubies to collect - there are now 55. Before each Heart Ruby boosted your max HP by 5, but now each one now boosts your max HP by 4, so your final max HP count would still end up the same. It's kinda similar to what happened with Twilight Princess, where they broke with tradition and made 5 heart containers required to gain a new heart instead of the usual 4. Overall, the final tally for treasure to find is:

55 heart pieces

30 energy gems

108 moon stones

Who's crazy enough to collect them all?

---------- BADGES / ACHIEVEMENTS ----------

As one of the game's finishing touches, there's a menu for BADGES - they're this game's version of achievements. This is an ongoing task that we hope to stamp out this December. A few favorites of mine from the original flash game will return ("Pillow Connoisseur" is among them).

(The menu looks like this before any badges are earned)

I allocated slots for just 33 badges, so we're selecting the badges very carefully. We got rid of most of the fluffy ones that appeared in the flash game - we wanted to reduce the number of badges that you would earn automatically for just playing the game (so no more "1st boss", "2nd boss", "3rd boss" achievements). We're aiming for a healthy mix of easily earned badges, hard earned badges, collectathon badges, secret fun badges, and so on.

The badges have another twist - they bear miniaturized portraits of characters from the game! In the initial brainstorm mockup phase, I wasn't really fond of the badge designs. You got a medal of a heart because you collected some hearts, and you got the medal of a moonstone for collecting moonstones, etc. It just seemed so... expected.

(various badge mockups)

How could we engage the players on a more fun and deep level? The idea came - what if we attached pictures of the people you meet on your journey? And these people's stories and character would have a connection with the achievement? That could keep the player guessing which character would come attached with an achievement, or even reveal a hidden detail about the character you didn't know.

---------- MUSIC ----------

Will has just one more task to do. And that's to recut the song for the trailer. One of our other goals for this December is to make a really good trailer... again. There's actually 2 other trailers we cut and never made public for reasons. Maybe I'll talk about them one day in the post-mortem.

Since this may be the last conventional update, we wondered with which song to best leave the audience. And we decided that the most suitable song is "Sanctuary". It's a song that the player will often encounter often when they happen upon a quiet resting place in the world.

There's a little story behind this song. Two and a half years ago, I linked Will the Earthbound song, "Buzz buzz's prophecy", and told him, make a song like that!

In response, Will made "Sanctuary".

Give it a listen HERE. What do you think? Did Will hit close to the greats?

---------- FAN ART ----------

Three fan arts have come in the last couple months. I display them here proudly:

Another submission by Cody G! Gale looking shy as she flashes the V sign for the camera. I like how Cody G's art is continually evolving. Note the additional detail on her eye, and how her hair is drawn extra fluffy. Very nice!

Shafiyahh is another consistent contributor, and made one in the spirit of Halloween. I really like their costumes! Gale as an angel, and Lisa as a demon, fittingly captures their relationship, since Gale is the responsible one and Lisa is the troublemaker. So cute!

A contribution from a new artist, Negativus Core! Wow, Gale looks so bada-- here! We often forget about Gale's tough side due to the cutesy graphics. This is probably how her enemies see her. And the gummy (slime) is a cute touch!

---------- FINAL NOTES ----------

Similar to last year, this will be the last update for a while. If things run too slow, I'll post a status update come end of February 2020.

It's possible, and this is a BIG IF, that something notable happens sooner than expected - like we're going to a con or we have reason to drop the trailer sooner than later. If so, this blog will update earlier than expected. BIG IF. Otherwise, it's end of February till next you hear of us.

The game's development has reached a new uncharted territory. We're going to take the time and figure out exactly what our next steps are. In addition, we'll still be doing some playtesting and script polishing. And we'll be taking a break too. It is the holiday season, things move kind of slow around this time of year. We'll enjoy the company of our family and friends.

Until then, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

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